Wales. Land of song. Birthplace to Jones The Voice, Burton The Voice, Bassey The Voice (they give good voice, them Welsh). Oh, and Max Boyce. Just got back from the Valleys and it's started me reminiscing about bygone journeys over the border...
There was the school cottage trip. Our school holiday cottage was right in the sticks, in a little place called Cerrig Y Drudion, not far from Betwys Y Coed (great names, places in Wales. I'm proud to announce that I can say that really long place name correctly, the one they shorten to Llanfair PG). Every year, each 3rd year class got to go on a 5 day trip to Wales. You could wear your jeans (me love denim long time). My trip heralded my first case of unrequited love. I haven't suffered from much unrequited love over the years. I normally get to 'requite' it, lucky me. But this time, the object of my affection was Jason Holmes. He was sort-of romancing a girl in the class below me, she wasn't on the trip. The teachers took us all for a scary midnight walk in the woods. I said I felt a bit frightened, he said "here, hold my hand". Sigh. Always a sucker for a gentlemanly act. I bet I blushed in the darkness. And probably messed my schoolgirl panties.
Once, in the late 70s, the entire family went to Llandudno. I mean entire. Mum, Dad, eldest sister Liz, her husband Chris, their little girl Kirstie, my sister Mary, her daughter Anne-Marie, brother Joe, his wife Rosa. And me. I was 12. Oh, and my sister Helen and her new husband Yong (he's Malaysian). I use the word 'new' for good reason. It was her honeymoon. The whole family on her honeymoon. In a B&B in Llandudno. I kid you not, reader. They'd probably never even heard of the Maldives back then.
For a couple of years, I went out with a very handsome geography student. He was tall, funny and incredibly fit. He liked to climb rocks. I got to see some beautiful places with him and Wales has some spectacular climbing opportunities, particularly on the Gower peninsula. But my favourite trip was wild camping on the cliffs in Pembrokeshire. I read books and lazed in the baking sun whilst he climbed to his heart's content. It was one of the loveliest holidays I've ever had.
Today's jaunt was a day trip to Swansea to visit Dean in hospital. Once over the shock of how thin he's become since the accident just over two weeks ago, and the surprise that he's now sporting a beard and looks remarkably like Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn (phwoar), it was great to see him. I'd brought a couple of M&S ready meals along for him (personal experience reminds you that hospitals really aren't big on the imagination front when it comes to catering, particularly not when you're a vegetarian). He needs feeding up, our boy. I've absolutely no idea what I waffled on about. My usual line in bollocks. He didn't seem to mind. Good stuff at numbing more than just pain, that morphine.
The physios arrived, and this was the only bit that hurt not just him, but me too. To watch this big handsome chap, so used to being incredibly fit and independent, have to struggle with a walking frame was very hard. But he did twice his normal distance! And with such bloody cheerful good grace. I think he was showing off for me (only written that because I know it'd make him laugh). He told me that on the earlier walks, he only had a hospital gown on, with his arse hanging out. The nurses had to ask him to cover it up. And when he fell asleep without the blanket on, I think the old lady opposite got an eyeful of his black balls too (I still wince when I think of his poor bruised spuds). He's had tons of visitors, he's a popular fella. Just the night before, some of his film-set mates had rocked up. I'm imagining some kind of Carry On Matron bedlam. Rumour has it a huge amount of takeaway curry was involved and some 'adult reading matter' was stashed under his pillow. I left for my train back to London and texted him from the taxi, begging him to not let the old dear opposite catch him pleasuring himself - after her clocking his darkened parts once already, the sight of the 'end' of him might actually signal the end for her.
