Wales for the Day 2

05.09.01

ALVIN AND BEV’S UPDATE

I had a brain wave at 4 am on my last days off and reached out to Bev in the bed and said “What about we go to Wales for the day”. Bev being an enthusiast for new things grunted “OK but I’ll need a cuppa first”. Well by the time I had made a brew and attended to my distended bladder Bev was stacking zeds again. She had a trick of tapping on the side of the cup with teaspoon to wake me so I tried that and to my amazement she woke and sat up to have her requested cuppa.

Time was now 4.30 am. She wanted to know why I was p so early and I reminded her that she had agreed to come to Wales for the day. It took about another 2 hours to get out the door of the flat but it was an early start, still dark. The night buses are less frequent and more expensive. We had timed it right to get the first of the day buses taking us right into the city to Trafalgar Square.

Bev was worried about a young man who was drug affected. He looked like he was miming a nightmare all of his own. As we approached along the sidewalk he reeled away from the stone wall which he perceived had just struck him. He was hugging his body shivering with the cold.

Another short tube trip has us at Paddington Station just on 7 am. I read the departure board for Cardiff which indicated the train left on the hour. So we missed the 7 am and had a further one hour to wait. That time went fast. We yapped away to people who were heading to a cat show with the moggies looking petrified in their cages. The cat breeds were exotic to us but common breeds to the Poms.

I had heard of the Welsh Valleys. Probably through the association to the singers Tom Jones and Harry Seacombe and the wonderful coral singers from there. I located a small town which looked as though it was off the beaten track and away form city life. Our ticket was for a cheap day return to Pontypridd up the valley 30 minutes by train from Cardiff (38 quid)

Bev was asleep for the first hour of the two hour train trip. (I’m not sure why)

I was looking forward to seeing the bridge over the Severn River which divides England and Wales. The crossing at the mouth of the Severn is very broad, about 4 mile stretch.

O followed the map and was expecting to see the bridge coming up very soon when my view out the window disappeared as we entered the tunnel under the river and the Welsh Boarder.

10 am had us on the Cardiff platform looking at all the Gaelic names and hearing lyrical pronunciations over the station intercom. All gobble dee gook to us.

Being market day Saturday there were plenty of people in town, the streets were full to overflowing the cars had been excluded from the town centre. Market stalls are very familiar to us now and hold little interest.

The old part of Pontypridd has a museum as the centre which probably was the Council Chambers or official building in years gone by. The museum is dominated by a huge pipe organ. Welch Mining History Tin, Iron, Lead and Coal is well represented. Audio of peoples lives and upbringing in the thirties and forties held my interest. The Taff River winds its way through the town.

It is the size of the Avon in Christchurch. A spectacular single arched stone bridge spans the river. Built in 1740 something it is in great repair and now only used for foot traffic. Its all held together by its own weight, clever buggers.

Wandering through the long attached streets of housing was also interesting to me. Each house is identical two story three bedroom miners’ houses. We sidled up to two elderly local ladies and engaged them in conversation. They had lived in the same street for the last 40 years and were forth coming about the local history. They were impressed that we had come up from London for only a day and were also taken with our accents.

The school holidays are due to finish and workmen are feverishly undertaking running repairs to the internals of a primary school prior to the kids arriving. I poked my head in the door to have a look. The Principals husband who had been roped into the clean up gave us a guided tour and was very helpful with teaching us some of the pronunciations of the Walsh language. We appreciated the friendly people we met, who were apologetic for the town and saying its not a wealthy area and has high unemployment.

My brain wave at 4 am had proved to be the inspiration for a wonderful relaxing day.

I was off to work late last night. The usual night nurse was off sick which meant an agency nurse had to be called on. She had come form another suburb and had let us know that she was having trouble finding the Nursing home in the dark. Eventually she turned up at 20 past my knock off time. she still needed orientation and a hand over, something that can take up to 20 minutes when all is well. Anyway I wandered home, a walk of five minutes. As I approached our flat I could see that there were no lights on. My anxiety levels went up a gear. Bev had been to lectures at the Kings College University yesterday and today. We have security call buzzers outside the flat and my usual pattern of rings remained unanswered. I rummaged through my carry bag and found my flat keys, wound my way up the stairs to number 18. Bev was definitely not home. Checked the answer phone, nothing, no notes or messages.

What to do if you wife is not home when you expect here, late at night now 8.45 pm in New Cross, London. My irrational thinking was wandering about, thinking of a vast range of calamities that may have beset Bev. Luckily my rational mind said, have a cuppa and a shower.

A further half and hour passed, I could hear police sirens and the overhead Police Helicopter providing them with assistance. My calm presence of mind was being tested. I considered going for a walk to meet her, but which direction would she come from. She is adventurous and tries many different routes home. The security buzzer sounded about 9.30 pm. A laughing voice at the other end said “Hello I’ve been lost”

After two days of lectures Bev had organised a social gathering of her class mates. An Aussie, one South African, two Nigerians and a Jamaican and a Jewish South African living in Malta. They wanted to have a debrief over wine or coffee for the Muslim and met at Waterloo Station. The rendezvous lasted until 7.30 pm when the group broke up. Bev had allowed 40 minutes to get home by train. She hopped on her train and them realized that she was sitting on train with a bus ticket. Bev got off the train at the first stop and sought directions to New Cross by bus. She did find one that went to New Cross but unfortunately it seemed to circumnavigate London before getting there.

BEV HERE

The woman in the class are great fun.

The Iranian woman has a Masters in Midwifery. She is probably more qualified than the tutor. The Jewish midwife’s history is impressive too. She moved from South Africa to settle in Israel. She studied Hebrew. She then resat and passed her midwifery again in Hebrew in Israel.

The tutor admitted that she has never used the Internet and does not know her way around the library at the University because she is the boss. She told the class that she had just upgraded her computer and traded her old PC which was not capable of running windows to her hairdresser for two haircuts.

She told us that she is the gate keeper. She will not let us qualify as Midwives unless she is 110% sure we can operate as Independent Midwives. One Nigerian Midwife lives near me at New Cross. She had been wrongly informed that the course was postponed.

She had to come to the first day after working all night at the hospital. The following day she was late because of her sick child had to see a doctor and she left early to admit him to hospital. He has Malaria.

The other Nigerian woman travels to London a long way from Sussex and will work in Lewisham with me.

It was in this context that I stayed in town a bit later enjoying the company and calculating my short journey of 20 minutes by train was a trifle.

I wonder what will happen next..

Arthur & Albert Steptoe