The Life And Times of a Welshman

[Written in mid-November 2003, last updated: 16 February 2005]

My childhood

There was no electricity, no water; my father had to carry water from a well, which was about 200 yards away. There was a small muddy pond, a yard or two from the back of our house. The pond was called The Ducky, because our ducks used to swim and feed there.

Our cottage was about two miles from the nearest towns, Tredegar and Ebbw Vale; therefore my mother had to walk to these towns to do her shopping.

My father worked down a coal mine. He was born in 1889 in Builth Wells, which is a rural area. My mother was born in 1893 in Tredegar. She met and married a William Edwards in 1910 when she was 17 years old. She had three children while married to William Edwards. The first was a girl who died, only weeks after her birth. Then came William in 1913 (we called him Willie). Next was John in 1915 (we called him Johnny).

My mother became a widow when William was killed late in the First World War. A few years after the war, my mother met and married my father, David Edward Hamer. They produced 8 children; they were David Thomas, Rees Edward, Gordon Llewellyn, and then a girl who died shortly after birth. Then came James Moy, Annie Elizabeth (we always called her Nancy), then came Mary, and to complete the set, I was born. My name by the way is Idris Aneurin, but everyone knows me as Nye.

Although I was too young to remember, we had a lot of animals around the house where I was born. There were chickens, turkeys, geese, ducks, pigs and one cow - oh, and a sheep dog called Peggy. There's an interesting story about Peggy; although she was a sheep dog, it was the geese she rounded up. The geese would wander around the mountain, sometimes half a mile or more away. My father would tell Peggy to bring the geese back. Off she'd go on her own, and bring them back to our house. A national newspaper man was in our area, and saw Peggy rounding the geese on her own. He had never seen anything like it before, so he took a photo, and wrote an article in his paper about Peggy.

When I was two years old, I had double pneumonia. Our doctor, whose name was Doctor Brooks, told my mother that he couldn't do any more for me (in other words, he gave me up for dead). My mother took things into her own hands. She covered my body in goose grease and mustard, and erected a shield around me, of blankets draped over chairs to stop any draft getting to my body. A few days later, Doctor Brooks came to our house, looked at me and said to my mother, "I don't know what you have done, but you have saved your son's life."

In 1938 my family moved to live in London, because of the shortage of work in Wales at that time. Being only four years old, I can't remember the journey to London.

The following year, on the 3rd of September, Britain along with France declared war on Germany. On that day, Nancy, Mary and I were, along with thousands of other children, evacuated to safer areas of England. We were sent to Orford Cluny, which is in Huntingdon. On reaching Orford Cluny, Nancy and Mary were to be placed with a Mr. and Mrs. Faival, while I was to go to another family. I was left crying at the gate as my two older sisters went into their new home. Mrs. Faival saw me crying, and decided to take me in as well. Being so young, I can only vaguely remember a few things about Orford Cluny, which is, or at least was, a rural area when we were there.

I do remember going into the fields on a cart, pulled by what I thought at the time to be a very large horse. A friendly farmer gave us 12 rat tails; he must have caught them in a trap. He told us to take the rat tails to somewhere (I can't remember where), and we'd be given one shilling for them. One shilling being 5 pence in today's money.

We were in Orford Cluny for about a year, before returning to our parents in London.

Not long after, the blitz started in earnest, so we returned to Wales. In the short time that we'd been away, the house that I was born in had been condemned. We had nowhere to live. So my mother's sister Martha took us in with her family. Aunt Martha's house had a kitchen, front room and three bedrooms, two were average size, the other small and square shaped, we called it the box room.

If I remember rightly, there were 15 of us living in that house. There was Aunt Martha and her children: Edna, Raymond, Nancy, Harry, Malcolm and Betty. Of my brothers, Willie stayed in London, while Johnny and David were in the army. So the household of 15 was made up by my mother and father, Rees, Gordon, James Moy, Nancy, Mary and me.

Looking back, I can't imagine how we survived, living in those cramped conditions, but survive we did (there was a war on). Nancy, Mary and I slept on a mattress on the floor, in the same bedroom as my mother and father, which was the box room. My brothers slept in the same room as my male cousins, while my Aunt Martha slept with her daughters.

Being so young, I didn't realize the hardship that my parents were going through, or of the horrors of war, as other parts of the country were being bombed.

In about 1941, Rees was enlisted into the 8th army. Gordon joined the merchant navy in 1942. The following February, his ship was sunk by a U-boat; he was only 18 years old. My cousin Raymond was also enlisted into the army. So that left 12 of us living in that house.

Looking back to those days, I have to smile at my clothing. In those dark days, everything was rationed. Very rarely did we have new clothes. I had patches on my trousers, hobnails in my boots to make them last longer. That being a common sight with all the children, I didn't feel out of place.

The school I attended was called Rassau School, which was built in 1878. All my brothers and sisters were educated there. Our headmaster was Lloyd Jones; he seemed to me at the time to be very strict. Miss Roberts taught the first class, known as baby's class. Miss Roberts also played the piano for morning service. Her introduction was the same every morning. She played "Men of Harlech". Of course, we children had different words for that music; we sang "I'm the man who came from Scotland, shooting peas at nannygoats bottom".

When I was eleven, I had to leave Rassau School to go to "Glyncoed Secondary Modern School". This was in September 1945; the war had ended 5 months earlier. A few weeks after starting in my new school, I had a scuffle with a boy, named David Davies. I can't remember who started it or why. But David punched me in the stomach, it hurt, but I carried on with my lessons. At noon I went home for lunch. Shortly after, before I was due to go back to school, I complained to my mother that I wasn't feeling very well. I think she thought I was bluffing, just to stay home from school. She said, "If you’re feeling ill, go to bed." I surprised her by going to bed. Normally I'd want to go out and play.

That day was the start of a long illness. I don't or can't remember what the illness was, but that punch in the stomach started it. I would vomit after eating or drinking anything. My nose bled profusely. I lost a lot of weight. I realize now, my mother, being a wonderful mother, must have worn herself out looking after me. My doctor had done everything possible to save my life. He told my mother he could do no more; he had given me up for dead.

As I was lying in bed one day, with my window slightly open, I could hear my mother talking to our next door neighbour, Mrs. Aplin. I could hear my mother crying and saying that she'd lost one son (Gordon) in the war, and didn't want to lose me. In the middle of October of that year, I was taken into hospital, mainly to give my mother a rest; she had looked after me day and night. I didn't realize how weak I was. A nurse helped me to the toilet. If I'd tried to go on my own, I'd have collapsed like a rag doll.

I was in hospital for about two weeks, being sent home on the 4th of November. The following night was bonfire night. Having never seen a bonfire, due to the war, I wanted to go next door, where they had a huge bonfire. My mother didn't want me to go out in the cold night air; she said I'd catch a cold. But I pleaded, so she wrapped one of her coats around me, and off I went to see this big fire, and to see the fireworks going off. But my mother was right, I did catch a cold.

I left the building site at 16, to work as a recorder in the hot mill department of our local steel works.

By the time I'd reached 18, conscription was still in force. I either had to do 2 years national service, or work in a coal mine for 8 years. As there was conflict in Korea at that time, if I were to go into the army, I might be sent to Korea. My mother and father didn't want the chance of losing another son in a war, so I went to work done the coal mine until I was 26. By now, conscription had ended. I went back to the steel works, in the open hearth department. It was very hot work there; I had more colds while working there than I'd had in my whole life.

I was 26 years old in 1960, when I had my very first holiday, to southern Ireland. Mostyn, Tom, Dennis and I flew from Cardiff to Dublin; Alex didn't come on this trip. After staying overnight in Dublin, we hired a car. Dennis, being the only driver, had to do all the driving. We drove first to Waterford. We thought we'd have a couple of pints there, before carrying on with our journey, but as it was a Sunday, all the pubs were closed. So we carried on to Cork., then to Glengariff, the focal point of our holiday. Dennis had an aunt and an uncle "Dinny" living in Glengariff. Dinny lived alone in an old farm house. He must have been very poor, because the house was barely furnished. Where the fire grate should have been it was just an opening with just twigs burning.

Dennis's aunt (I can't remember her name) lived and worked as a housemaid on Garnish Island, which is a few hundred yards off shore. The gardener on the island was Mr. McKenzie. He came with a boat, to row us to the island. Dennis's aunt gave us lunch, and then Mr. McKenzie brought in a huge pile of strawberries. We each had a big dish of strawberries and cream. While in Glengariff, we stayed in the "Firgrove Hotel" - 14 shillings and sixpence each per night! (which is 75 and a half pence in today’s money). We travelled to various places from Glengariff: Trallee, Killarney, Bantry Bay, Tipperary, the Ring of Kerry, and Ballybunion.

We had beautiful weather, in the high 70s. So one day, we donned our swimming trunks, and went into the sea. Although the weather was warm, the sea was like ice; after all, it was the Atlantic Ocean. I only did a bit of paddling.

I really enjoyed my first holiday, southern Ireland is a beautiful place.

During my time in the steel works, the only socialising I did was to go to our local club, have a few beers and play darts. I never had time for a girlfriend, I was too shy anyway.

After I retired, I took an interest in gardening. The gardening went slowly at first, just a few flowers here, and a few there. I decided to use some of my redundancy money on having double glazed doors and windows, to replace the old ones. I had a patio built and a greenhouse erected. Now this was more like gardening. I erected staging in the greenhouse. By February the following year, the greenhouse was full of seedlings and cuttings. I'd planted a Cyprus leylandii conifer hedge a few years earlier; by now it was 7 feet high, just the height I wanted it to be. Over the next few years, my garden was awash with flowers. There were pots of all sizes, hanging bags and baskets. I even experimented with an old sand bag. I filled it with compost, tied the end, and then planted busy lizzies. By the end of the summer, you couldn't see the sand bag, just a mass of busy lizzies.

In 1995 or 1996 my neighbour Mair Matthews said she'd just come from a meeting for parents at the Rassau School. She said the school was in dire need of funds to pay for books, pencils and such. I was shocked at hearing this. I thought the government provided the money for this, as when I was at school.

I went to see the headmistress, Lorraine Davies the following day. She confirmed what Mair had told me. I was determined to help my old school out. So every two or three weeks for the next few years, I went to the school with £100 for the school funds. How differently the school was run now, compared to the time I was there. The children seemed happier, they held their teacher's hand (that was unknown when I was there). They had computers.

I enjoyed my visits to the school; I'd sit and chat with Mrs. Davies. She asked me if I'd tend to the school flowers. I was only too glad to do so. Although it might have looked like hard work, I enjoyed tending the flowers. There were 7 troughs about 3 feet long and one foot wide; I'd fill these with various flowers. Then there were 13 hanging baskets, again filled with various flowers.

But my gardening, at my house, and at the school came to a halt in late summer 1999.

But first I must go back to 1996....

Bardi is a very tiny town, more like a village really. There were only two hotels (we stayed in one of them), and nothing in the way of entertainment. Nonetheless, Bardi is a beautiful town, set high in the mountains.

As Gino just wanted to walk around the town to meet his old friends, I went on my own for long walks, taking photos as I went. I went to a lot of remote areas.

It was after one of these long walks that I returned to our hotel at 12-30pm, on the 16th of July, just in time for lunch. I sat at the table with Gino, when all of a sudden, I had a terrible pain in my stomach. The pain wouldn't go away. I went to our room, ripped off my shirt and trousers, trying to ease the pain. Gino sent for a doctor, who examined me, and said I'd have to go to hospital.

As I've said, Bardi is a tiny town, there was no ambulance, so Gino ran to his friend (Charlie Rossi) for help. Charlie and his wife Iolanda live in my home town, Ebbw Vale. I knew of them in Ebbw Vale, but had never spoken to them. They were in Bardi on holiday; they own a few apartments there. Anyway, their daughter Maria who lives with her husband Aldo in Bardi, rushed me to hospital. It was a 45 minute drive. On a normal day it would have taken a lot longer than that, but Maria drove like the wind, hitting a bump or two which made me groan.

We reached the hospital, I had x-rays done on my stomach, and I was then operated on. I had a burst ulcer. I didn't even know I had an ulcer. I was in hospital for 10 days. I was dressed up like a Christmas decoration with tubes inserted all over my body. I couldn't eat, I was drip fed, until the 7th day. I was then given a cup of black tea, and a dish of clear soup.

By the time I was released from the hospital, our stay at the hotel had run out.

This is the time I found three truly wonderful, wonderful friends. Charlie and Iolanda put Gino and me in one of their apartments. Maria cooked special meals, just for me. Charlie made all the arrangements for our flight back to Wales. He also got in touch with the insurance company to pay my hospital bill.

Charlie, Iolanda, and especially Maria were wonderful to me. I'll never be able to repay their kindness. Finally, as the day arrived for Gino and me to return to Wales, I told Charlie, Iolanda and Maria that I'd make them a Christmas cake every year. It was my way of saying thank you to three wonderful new friends. I kept my promise, for the next few years anyway, you'll know the reason it stopped, in the next chapter of my life. Maria came to Ebbw Vale the next summer; I had the cake waiting for her.

I waited a few weeks before phoning Lily. I wanted my sister Mary to talk to her. So as a ruse, I asked Mary and her husband Glyn to come to my house to watch a football (soccer) match on my television. Mary didn't want to come, but I kept asking her and she agreed. As we watched the match, I tried to phone Lily, but couldn't get an answer, but I kept trying for the next two hours. I'd told Mary and Glyn that I was trying to phone Charlie Rossi. I tried again to phone Lily; this time I got an answer, just as Mary and Glyn were about to go home.

You should have seen Mary's face as I said,"Hello Lily." Lily was in a sort of shock too, she couldn't stop laughing at hearing from me after all these years. It was close on 40 years since I last saw her.

The following week, I phoned Lily again and told her that I was thinking of coming to see her in New Zealand. A few weeks later, I booked my flight for the middle of April. At last I was going to New Zealand on my own, for 4 weeks. Mary and Glyn took me to Heathrow airport, and I was on my way.

I arrived at Auckland airport after travelling for over 30 hours, to be met by my nephew Tony, his daughter Claire and son Mark. I had never met Claire and Mark until that moment, nor Tony's wife Ann.

My stay in New Zealand was wonderful. Tony, his wife Ann and children Claire and Mark gave me a great welcome. They took me on tours around Auckland. Mark, if I remember rightly, was 18 years old, and Claire was 15.

Tony took me to see Lily; she was my main reason for going to New Zealand. She had put on a lot of weight since I last saw her. I went to visit Lily a few times every week, it took about 30 minutes to walk to her house from Tony's house.

One day, Mark took me to see an extinct volcano on a small island just a short distance from Auckland harbour. It was a long walk to the summit, but it was well worth the trek.

Tony reminded me a lot of his father (my brother Johnny), with his type of humour. He would frolic around with Claire and Mark, sometimes wrestling with Claire on the floor, causing great laughter. Tony's wife Ann used to put a saucer of milk out for the neighbours' cat. She scolded me several times for hissing at the cat to make it scurry away.

I made a mistake in telling Ann that I was diabetic; her mother, "Nana Bo", as Claire and Mark called her, was also diabetic, so Ann knew what food and drink to give me. She wouldn't allow me to have white wine... only red wine with my meals.

Unknown to me, when I arrived in Auckland, Tony's youngest brother Glyn (whom I'd never met), had arranged for me to stay with him and his family for 8 days. It was a 4 hour bus ride to Glyn's home, which is in Rotorua. As I stepped down from the bus, Glyn came to welcome me. I asked him how he knew me; he said I looked just like his father. Here again, I was given a great welcome by Glyn, his wife Annette and children Jane and Adam. Jane was (I think) 15 and Adam was 11.

Rotorua is a beautiful tourist resort, with geysers and boiling pools of mud, and Maori shows.

One day, I told Glyn and Annette that I'd arrived in New Zealand a few days after my birthday. That evening, just after we'd finished supper, Annette brought a cake out, with a lighted candle stuck in it. it was a belated birthday cake for me. I was dumbstruck as she also gave me a few birthday presents. This was the first time I'd ever had a birthday cake.

About 9.30 one morning, Glyn took me to a Maori village, where all the geysers and boiling mud pools were. He said he'd come back for me about 2 pm. I had a wonderful time, filming the geysers and mud pools. I also saw a show put on by a group of Maoris, in their traditional dress. I wasn't allowed to film this show, but I bought a video of it.

As I walked around the site, I saw helicopters flying around. I wondered what they were doing. When I reached the top of the village, I saw two helicopters on their pads. "Ah", I thought, "they take visitors on trips". I'd always fancied going up in one. I went into the office and booked myself a trip in one of these helicopters, which lasted about 25 minutes. I had my camcorder with me, so I filmed our flight.

I came back to Auckland to stay with Tony and his family for the last week or so of my holiday. Then it was time for my return journey back to Wales. Tony, Claire and Mark came with me to the airport. Claire gave me a letter; she said, "Don't read it until you're on the plane", then they left.

I went to the top of the airport building, to wave to them as they drove away. Instead of waiting to read Claire's letter on the plane, I read it just after they'd left me. I had tears in my eyes as I read her very touching letter, of how I had been, for her, the substitute grandfather she had never known. I had equally touching letters from Tony, Ann and Mark. I still have those letters today.

It was the most wonderful and beautiful holiday I've ever had in my entire life.

Then on the 23rd of March, I had a reply to my ad from a woman living in Alabama. It was uncanny, but I kept looking for her emails all the time. I can't explain why this was so. I'd go out into the garden, but only for a minute or two. Then I'd be looking for her emails (her name, by the way, is Susan). I was neglecting my garden, just to read Susan's emails. On the 5th day after receiving her first email, I asked Susan for her phone number. I know, I was a bit impulsive. She of course refused, but I kept asking. On the 6th day, she gave me her work number, that's where she sent her emails from. I phoned right away.

I phoned Susan 3 or 4 times every day after that, at her home as well. By the middle of April, I couldn't keep Susan out of my mind, I wanted to meet her. I didn't realize at the time, but I had fallen in love with a woman I'd never met. How could this be? I asked Susan if I could come to Alabama to meet her, or she could, if she wished, come to Wales.

By the end of April, she said she would come to Wales. I was overjoyed, my heart was thumping, I'd never felt like this before. Susan made all the arrangements to come to Wales on the 3rd of August, two days after her 43rd birthday.

It was a long and agonising wait for that wonderful day. My neighbour Colin Matthews took me to Cardiff airport, his wife Mair also came. Susan's plane was due to land at 9-30am. I kept looking at the notice board. Then it came up, Susan's plane had landed, 10 minutes early. I'd been sitting with Colin and Mair, but now I was on my feet, pacing up and down, like a cat on a hot tin roof. Suddenly the doors opened, to let the passengers out. Susan said she'd be all in pink.

All of a sudden, there she was. We kissed and hugged each other, with tears of joy in our eyes. Our journey to my home was like heaven. We held each others hands; I looked into Susan's lovely brown eyes. What joy this was.

After a few days, I took Susan to London for 3 days. Looking back, we did too much in so short a time. We took in two musicals ("Cats" & "Phantom of the Opera"), The Tower of London. Madame Tussauds and the London Planetarium. Back in Wales, we toured around Cardiff Castle.

All too soon her stay in Wales came to an end. She had to go back to Alabama. We both had tears in our eyes as she disappeared out of view. We both knew that we had to meet again.

I had already booked a flight to visit relatives in New Zealand for two months, starting in September, but if I were to go there, I'd be out of contact with the woman I'd come to love more than anything in the world. I just couldn't go to New Zealand, so I cancelled my trip, although Susan begged me not to. I lost a lot of money by cancelling that trip, but I didn't care. I wanted to be with the woman I'd come to love dearly.

I booked a flight to Alabama; I arrived there on the 9th of December 1999. My ticket was only valid for 90 days. But I had three wonderful months with my Susan. We were passionately in love; we knew we wanted to marry each other. That big day came on the 12th of February 2000, less than 11 months after our first meeting on the internet.

Sadly I had to return to Wales at the beginning of March, just a few weeks after our wedding. Being ignorant about international travel, I booked a one way ticket to Alabama, for early April. I'd done this because I didn't know when I'd return to Wales. Imagine my horror and anguish when I gave my passport and flight ticket at the airport, and I was asked for my visa - I didn't have one! (that's where my ignorance came in). I was told I couldn't board the plane without a visa. They said I could travel the next day if I got a visa from the American Embassy in London. I phoned Susan, telling her I'd be a day late. That was a very big understatement.

I went to London, booked into a hotel, and then went straight to the embassy. I was given forms to fill in. Early next morning, I went back to the embassy, and was told I'd have to get a passport photo taken; I'd also have to go to a bank to pay £30 for the visa. I looked for a bank at 9am; it didn't open until 10am. I was getting a sinking feeling in my stomach. I was in a mad rush to get things done.

The bank opened, I paid for the visa, and then rushed back to the embassy, handed over the forms, the receipt from the bank, the passport photo and my passport. A man took them away, and after what seemed like hours (but it must have only been about 20 minutes), he came back. What he did and said next shattered me. He ran a pen through the forms I'd filled in, and said they were the wrong forms. He gave me more forms, for Susan to fill in as well. He'd put a stamp in my passport, saying, "Visa application April 3rd". I asked if I could fly if I bought a return ticket. He said, "No"; I still needed a visa.

The world came crashing over me. I knew it would take a long time to get a visa, possibly months. I left the embassy angry, bewildered and frustrated. I hailed a taxi to take me back to my hotel, I told the driver to wait while I collected my luggage, and then take me to the coach station. I'd left Ebbw Vale with £350; I arrived back there with just £35.

Back in Ebbw Vale, I had many sleepless nights, wondering how I could get out of this mess. Then one night, after twisting and turning, unable to sleep, it came to me. If I were to apply for a new passport, that incriminating visa stamp wouldn't be in it. I filled the forms in the following morning. A couple of weeks later my new passport arrived, with no visa stamp in it. I was elated. I booked a flight, and was back in Alabama with my new bride in early May. Oh, what a joyous reunion that was!

Strangely, the new forms I'd been given at the embassy were the same as the ones Susan and I had started to fill in in Alabama. Once we completed these forms, we sent them to the immigration office in Atlanta. We had a reply, saying that we'd have to be interviewed by an immigration officer sometime in the next three years. Well, it took two years for the interview to come round. A few weeks later, I received my green card, in June 2002. I was now a resident alien. What joy that brought to Susan and me. I can now go through customs without all the hassle I used to have.

I love living in Alabama, the climate is to my liking, the people are very friendly, and above all, I have a wonderful wife. Our neighbours are mostly elderly. I like to go over and sit and talk with Jim Rogers and his wife Gladys. They're a lovely couple. I also have a chat with Mrs. Hodge who's in her 80s. I've continued my flower gardening in Alabama. I'm slowly learning what flowers to grow in that climate.

I've gone back to Wales a few times on my own over the past few years, just to check on my house. Susan came with me on two other occasions. Katie, our 13 year old niece, came with us in early May 2003. Katie, being a young girl, was excited at the prospect of visiting a foreign country, but she was a bit sceptical as to how she'd fit in with the Welsh children. She needn't have worried; I introduced her to a few children who live nearby. After that first introduction, she made quite a few new friends.

One Saturday morning, I decided to take Suz and Katie for a walk, to see where I used to pick whimberries on the banks of our local reservoir. It was cold and windy as we started our walk. Neither Suz nor Katie was used to walking a long distance, so we made a few stops for them to catch their breath. Near the reservoir, there's a small stable, with one horse in it. This was a chance for us to stop again, and for Katie to talk to, and stroke, the horse. By now it had started to rain, which, along with the cold and wind, made it, to say the least, a miserable walk.

We reached the dam of the reservoir 50 minutes after starting out from my house. We only stayed there for a couple of minutes because the wind was very strong, and the rain seemed to be cutting into our faces. It had been a long trek, uphill for most of the way.

Our journey back home was much easier. As we got back into my house, our faces were red from the wind and rain. Katie... poor Katie... she came into the house and lay on the settee, exhausted.

On another morning, Katie had written a letter to one of her friends in Alabama, and wanted to post it. She declined my offer to go with her; she said she could find her way to the post office, which was about 4 minutes’ walk from my house. So off she went. A few minutes later she came back into the house and said she had lost her way. So I took her to post her letter.

A few days before we were due to leave Wales... Howell took Suz and me to see the cemetery in Aberfan and the ruins at Tintern Abbey. Katie preferred not to come with us. Instead she went for an outing with her new found friends Francesca and Amelia, grand-daughters of my good friends and neighbours, Mair and Colin Matthews. I gave her 5 - or was it 10 - pounds for her to spend on her outing.

On some evenings, we'd go down to my local club. Ty-Bryn. Katie would come with us. We'd sit in the lounge, because it was much quieter in there than in the bar. I'd have a pint of beer, Suz a gin and tonic, while Katie being only 13 would have a Pepsi and some crisps. One evening, as we were sipping our drinks, a man called Terry Bennett who I'd known for a long time came up to our table and pushed something into Katie's hand, and then left. He had given her a 10 pound note... very generous of him.

We didn't do much in the way of sightseeing on this trip. But there were two places Susan wanted to see. I'd told her the story about Tintern Abbey, which is about 25 miles from my home. Tintern Abbey was built in the 12th century, and is a magical construction. How they managed to build such a wonderful abbey in those days without any mechanical equipment is beyond me.

The other place Susan wanted to see was a cemetery in Aberfan. I'd told Susan about a disaster in Aberfan in October 1966. After two days of heavy rain, a mountain of coal waste cascaded and engulfed a school, killing 116 children as they were doing their lessons. There was a wave of shock, not only in Wales, but across the whole world. All the children are buried in a cemetery close by their school. Each grave has a white arch over it. We spent a long time there, reading the inscriptions on the gravestones.

In all, I've had 4 requests read on the radio; Susan's had one as well.

Before the three of us came to Wales in May 2003, I emailed Frank Hennessy, asking if we could come to his studio to see him recording his programmes. He granted my wish, and we went to the Radio Wales studio on the 7th of May.

Frank came to meet us at the entrance, took us on a tour of all the studios, ending up at his studio. We chatted with him for a while. Then we had to stay silent as he recorded a programme called "Celtic Heartbeat", which would go on the air on the following Saturday night. As he recorded CDs he'd turn to us and talk. Then, all of a sudden, he pushed two microphones in front of us. I looked at Susan, she looked at me and whispered, "Is he going to interview us?" Indeed he did interview us. This was a big shock. The interview lasted about 6 minutes. After he'd finished recording, Frank packed his equipment away, and said, "Right, let’s go and have some lunch." This was another surprise; the most we'd expected was a cup of tea.

Frank was acting like a waiter on us. He gave the three of us a tray and said, "Pick whatever food you want", then he went to get us some tea. We chatted to him as we ate our food. Then he took us to the main entrance, and we had our photos taken with him. Frank had made us feel at ease from the moment he greeted us.

A few days later we returned to Alabama, but not before we encountered a bit of a nightmare. Everything was going well after we'd boarded the plane at Gatwick; the pilot announced that we'd leave on time. As we were approaching the runway, the plane stopped. The pilot announced that smoke had been detected somewhere on the plane, and we had to go back. All the passengers had to get off while security men checked the plane. After what seemed like hours, we were given the all clear, and took off two hours late.

We had driven to Atlanta from Birmingham two weeks earlier and flew from there to London. We'd booked a room at a hotel there for when we returned, so as to have a good night's sleep before our drive back to Birmingham. At Atlanta, we collected our luggage, which consisted of two large cases, two slightly smaller ones, two more slightly smaller cases, plus a large shoulder bag. We looked for two buggies to take our luggage. But they were all chained up. To get two buggies we'd have to insert $6, but we didn't have $6 in change. So we had to carry the luggage. I did an imitation of a pack horse. I had one large case in my left hand, a smaller one under my left arm, two smaller ones in my right hand and the shoulder bag over my shoulder. We were looking for the exit, when an announcement was made. We had to return our luggage for further inspection.

We then had to board a shuttle train to another part of the airport to retrieve our luggage. Finally, we made it to where we had to board a shuttle bus to take us to our hotel, but the bus wasn't there. Another bus driver told us that as he didn't have any passengers at that time, he'd take us to our hotel. So off we went.... to the wrong hotel! But we did finally get to our destination, albeit it a bit late. As we approached our hotel, we noticed an IHOP (International House of Pancakes) next to it. We went there for supper, then went to bed at about 10-30pm.

I'm a very poor sleeper. I woke up at 1-30am and couldn't go back to sleep, so I watched television with the hotel security guard. At 3-15am, I went to the IHOP for an early breakfast. Susan woke up at 4am, wondered where I was, and then remembered the IHOP. I went back to the IHOP for a coffee as Susan ate her breakfast, at 5am. Katie slept for another hour or so.

We left Atlanta at about 10-30am. We had plenty of time on our hands, so there was no rush to get back home. We'd put Charles (Susan's father) in an assisted living place a few days before we'd left Alabama. We brought him back home a few days after our return.

That's nearly 5 weeks ago (at the time of writing this in November 2003); I'm still waiting for the deal to be settled. I'd booked a flight to return to Alabama for the 12th of November. I knew a few weeks ago that I could never make it by that date, so had my flight changed to the 24th of November. I was beginning to doubt if I could make that date.

Well, I couldn't make it by the 24th either. But now there is some light at the end of the tunnel. The sale of the house will be finalized on the 28th November. My new date to return to Alabama is the 8th of December.

So there you have it...

The life and times of a Welshman...

But I'm sure there's more to come.

Idris Aneurin (Nye) Hamer

We then carried on with our journey, to Wakulla Springs. We stayed at Wakulla for 2 nights. What a wonderful and intriguing place Wakulla is! It was here that they filmed "The Creature from the Black Lagoon" and some Tarzan films.

There was a river right besides our hotel, and tourists were taken for an hour’s trip along this river. Suz and I went on one of these trips on the Saturday morning. Our captain and guide talked throughout the journey, showing us where to look for different creatures. We saw a lot of alligators, turtles, snakes, ibis, black vultures and lots more exotic wildlife. Along the river banks, there were a lot of trees, with Spanish moss hanging down from them. Spanish moss is a kind of parasite, and is grey in colour. It makes an eerie sight, especially in the evenings just before darkness sets in. We saw a lot of this on our way to Wakulla.

We left Wakulla early on Sunday morning, bound for Orlando to stay with Suz's cousin Judi and her husband Tom. They have two sons, Tommy who is 22 and Jackson who is 13. We arrived at Judi's house by mid-afternoon. She has a beautiful house. At the bottom of her back garden is a big lake. On Monday, Tom took Judi, Suz, two of their friends and me on a picnic trip on the lake, in his power boat. Sometimes we'd go slow, and then speed up a bit. I thought it was only one lake, but Tom navigated through very narrow canals, with only a foot or so to spare on each side of the boat as we went through to three more lakes. Along the banks of these lakes were a lot of beautiful houses, owned by rich people. Some of the houses must be worth over US$1,000,000. The temperature on this day was nearly 80 degrees, much to my liking.

We didn't go to Disney World, as we had planned. Instead, on Tuesday, Judi took us in Tom's car to a place called, "Historic Bok Sanctuary". A man named Edward Bok came to America from the Netherlands in 1869 when he was 6 years old. Over the years he made his fortune, and decided to make this sanctuary for birds. There are beautiful flower gardens there. We strolled around in the lovely sunshine, looking at some beautiful gardens, and had lunch there.

At 3pm, Judi suggested we make our way back home. A strong wind had blown up - a storm was brewing. Judi put her key in the ignition, but nothing happened; she kept trying, to no avail. Then she tried to take the key out; it wouldn't budge. By now, it was raining heavily. She got on her cell phone, and phoned a garage, for them to send a tow truck. The tow truck arrived about 5pm. The driver hoisted the car onto the back of his truck, and then got into his seat. Judi climbed in, put her feet up on the dash board, and Suz squeezed in beside her. I got in and sat on Suz's lap, and half-sprawled across Judi. We were packed in like sardines, but we laughed at our predicament throughout the journey to the garage, which was 5 miles away. On reaching the garage, I started to sing, "Please release me, let me go...", which brought more laughter. At the garage, Judi had to phone another firm for her to hire a car for a few days while Tom’s car was being repaired.

It rained again on Wednesday, so we didn't go anywhere in particular... just went out for a meal.

I woke up at 2am on Thursday, and couldn't go back to sleep, but I didn't mind. I've had many days like this in the past. Anyway, I thought I'd have a good sleep the following night before starting our journey back to Alabama on Friday morning.

It rained again on Thursday, so once again we didn't go anywhere. I was very tired as Suz and I went to bed that night; but I couldn’t sleep. I had pains in my hip and shoulder. I've had this trouble for many years, but this time the pain was the worst I'd experienced.

On Friday, we left Orlando at about 8.30am, which is 7-30am in Alabama, after having a lovely break. This time, Suz decided to drive all the way back to Alabama in one day, because she felt OK. We made a few stops for meals and to stretch our legs. Instead of coming straight to our house, we stopped at Bennigans for a meal and a drink, and arrived at our house at 8-30pm. We were in bed by 9pm; at last I had a good night’s sleep.

On Sunday, Howell took us to York. What an awesome city this is! There's an ancient Roman wall around the city. We walked on top of it for a while. A lot of the streets are cobbled and narrow. Continuing our walk, we came to the York Minster cathedral. What an exquisite ancient building this is!

We walked a little more, and came to an old open city centre. There were a few Morris dancers there. “Ah,” we thought, “They're going to do a show.” I chatted with one of them, asking about the history of Morris dancing; it goes back hundreds of years. We spotted a low wall, so we sat on this to watch the show. More and more Morris dancers turned up, making a total of 30 or more, all dressed in red, white, green and black coloured clothing, tiny bells on their legs and shoes. Some carried different coloured handkerchiefs. There were violinists and accordionists. A large crowd had gathered, and we were treated to a wonderful show. They put on a play about ancient times and the crusades. Suz and I were inadvertently involved in this play. The play began with a narrator, dressed in a rag coat and blackened face, telling the story. He then came over to Suz, and in a loud voice, for all to hear, said, “Thank you for a wonderful night last night”, reached behind, and handed her a pair of pink thong panties. The entire crowd laughed at this. A Turkish Knight in costume came over to Suz and said much the same thing as the narrator, and handed her a pair of red panties; again, everyone laughed. Then a Christian Knight came out to do battle with the black knight, and HE came and handed Suz a pair of black panties. At this point I got up, and pretended to walk away from this FREE woman; again, this brought more laughter. The two knights fought; the Christian was wounded. A doctor came to tend his wounds, then gave Suz yet another pair of panties. Suz had become the FLOOZY of York.

A tall man, with a BEARD came out, with face blackened, dressed as an ugly woman. She/He came over to me and thanked me for a wonderful night last night, and handed me a pair of men's underpants, creating more laughter. What a wonderful show this had been!

Howell had told us that he was going to give us a meal at his flat, but he would not say what it was. We arrived there, accompanied afterwards by Chris and Bob too. Howell had made up a menu of 25 food items, to go on 4 giant pizzas he'd made. Suz and I picked 11 of these. We ate much too much.

Blackpool...

Both Suz and I knew that Chris & Bob would take us to Blackpool one day. So on the evening of Tuesday the 6th of September, off we went. Blackpool is a very famous English seaside resort. At this time of year, they have what is called "the Blackpool illuminations". They also have a giant roller coaster. I had never seen one before. Suz and Bob decided to go on this roller coaster. Even though I didn't know what to expect, I joined them for the ride; Chris decided to stay on ground level. We got strapped in, and then slowly chugged uphill. At the top, Suz said, "This is where it starts." I gripped the rail in front of me. Then whoosh, we went down at a terrific speed, and then turned right, almost upside down. My hip, knee and back took a terrible pounding. I gripped the rail more tightly; I thought for sure I'd be thrown out. Finally we came to a stop. I went up on that roller coaster as a 71 year old. I came off it feeling like a 171 year old. I was in terrible pain; I had trouble walking. Needless to say, that was my first and last roller coaster ride. We then walked (I hobbled) to the famous Harry Ramsden’s restaurant, where we had fish & chips. As twilight approached, the Blackpool lights were switched on. It's called The Golden Mile, but the streets were lit up for about 4 miles. Bob drove slowly for the whole 4 miles, then turned and did the same the other way. When we got back to Chris & Bob's house, Suz rubbed ointment over my sore parts. I slept moderately that night. On Wednesday, Suz, Chris and Bob went for a drive into Warrington; I stayed in the house. It was still painful to try to walk any distance. Tonight we go for a meal with Howell.

Howell took us to a Japanese restaurant. We had our first taste of sushi. It was only a very small portion, but it tasted OK. We also had our first drink of sake. I'm not sure what our meal was, but we ate it using chopsticks - not a knife and fork in sight! I cheated a bit, instead of using the chopsticks as they were intended, I just stuck one stick into the food. Three of Howell's friends - Angela, Mark, and Mahinda - also joined us for the meal. They, like Howell, enjoy Japanese food. Mahinda is 1/2 Malay and 1/2 Sri Lankan, and was born in London. He likes cricket, as I do, so we had a lot to talk about.

More coming soon!