ma bicyclette rouge

Finally, I have a bicycle! And a very sexy one at that. I bought it for a nifty £35 from Pedal Power, the charity that reworks bicycles for the handicapped and rents and resells them as well.

With the red suspension, it screamed 'Steal me!' when I first laid eyes on it, so hopefully after I sissify it with a back fender (or mud guard as they say here) and a pannier, it will be less tempting. Bicycle thievery seems to be a thriving trade here as I've seen many bikes in pieces locked to cycle stands.

My plan was to buy a bike when I first arrived, but economic realities put that idea aside -- as did my mistaken belief that a bicycle in my yard came with my 'furnished' apartment. (The neglected cycle actually belonged to my neighbour who reclaimed it after a month.)

In actuality I haven't missed having one as much as I thought as I am a fair weather, flat ground cyclist. I would much rather walk in the rain with an umbrella than ride a bike through a downpour. But August and September are gorgeous months here and now I can go down to the Bay and Penarth in half the time.

These wheels are made for rolling, and that's just what they'll do .... (with apologies to Nancy Sinatra)

un blwydd! (one year!)

It's hard to believe, but it's been one year today since I arrived in Wales. I still know very little Welsh (I think 'blwydd' is pronounced 'bleweeth' -- but I could be wrong). The language is stronger than one might think. Most people speak English, but children learn the language in schools, all the signs are bilingual (like Canada with its French and English) and often the Welsh is placed first.

There is a BBCWales which broadcasts original material in Welsh and English. I've watched the Welsh language station a few times for short periods of time, mainly to just hear how it's spoken. BBC Wales is headquartered here in Cardiff.

In this past year I've lost 20 pounds (a little more than one and a half stone, as they say here. A stone is equal to 13 pounds.)  This loss was in the first three months of my room attendant job with an international hotel chain, working my butt off literally after too many years sitting on it at a computer. I'm coming on my first year at the hotel in early October. It's taken a (long) while, but this older body has finally gotten some lean muscle mass.

I've also let my hair grow and haven't coloured it since I left Canada. This began because it's four times more expensive here to get your hair washed, cut, styled and coloured. I rather like the grey mixed in with the dark brown and plan on keeping close to Mother Nature's palette. Most often now I wear it in a short pony tail.

I think the hard part is behind me. It's scary when you're starting everything from scratch and you don't know what to expect from the winter or the coming fuel bills. I've gotten through all that, know what to expect and how to find necessities and luxuries and have met good friends at work. The connection I felt with Wales on my first visit years ago remains and I can feel the rhythm of the land and its people.

Thanks to a healthy tax return from the Canadian government I am going home to Canada for two weeks in October, in time for blue autumnal skies, clear sunny days and Thanksgiving turkey -- and FAMILY!

'fish and ships'

'Fish and Ships' -- the last big summer festival down at Cardiff Bay, wins hands down for the city's best summer celebration and best title. The last Monday in August is a Bank Holiday, similar to Labour Day weekend back home, and the rain held off, the sun shone, and everyone was having fun.

There were masted ships and working boats, food booths with better food (and even better prices) than the International Food and Drink fest earlier in the season, and fishmongers sharing the secrets of their trade and competing for the U.K. championship.

The fishmongers were selling their wares and bits and pieces from their exhibitions. For £1 I was able to buy 8 salmon tails with which to make soup broth. But the fishmonger (love that word) said I'll give you 10. When I got home with the iced double-bagged tails, I had an even dozen. That's a lot of delicious soup set to stew. Many of the tails had half a fish attached.

Airplanes flew over the Bay in an air show, however, I don't like watching them. I'm always afraid a plane will stall and spin into the water or land. Still, you watch.

This weekend marked the official end of the summer festival season. It hasn't been my imagination that the skies have been sunless and rainy. Recent reports say it is the coolest summer since 1993 -- uggh! -- though August was much better here than the previous few months.

Totally unrelated to the 'Fish and Ships', but likely related to dampness, I began reading Frank McCourt's memoir Angela's Ashes. For years I resisted this book, especially after seeing the bleak film, but though McCourt's Irish childhood was tragically marked with deaths and extreme poverty, he was a remarkable writer and he mined a deeply rich vein of humour and resilience. There are few books that can make you laugh out loud and despair so easily. Hugely deserving of all the accolades.

His story is mainly set in Limerick, Ireland and when I was waiting at the bus terminal there in May for the airport shuttle, the two Irish people who were conversing about the economy also spoke about McCourt's book. I hadn't realized before that the autobiography was set there. The woman said her mother, from Limerick, originally doubted anyone could have been that poor, but a friend of hers remembered otherwise and said, yes, we used to take food down to the very poor people.

brains, please

Brains Brewery on the River Taff

Brewery as seen from a side street

Anyone who knows me, knows very little beer has ever passed my lips. This is definitely a waste in the U.K. where it is the drink of choice for millions. Cardiff has its own local brewery Brains, which as you can imagine, has borne forth many clever advertising slogans such as 'You need Brains' 'Its Brains you want.'

I've always found beer too bitter for my taste, but I have been told before and recently that I should give a good stout a try. Plus, there are actually nutritives in a stout, they say. I've tried Guinness before and found it smooth. Last week I went into a local bar/cafe The Pear Tree, asked if they had Guinness, found out they didn't but they recommended Brains Black. With half a pint being cheaper than a cheap coffee, I can see why so many flock to the pubs.

I liked Brains Black so much I've had three in the last week. Wow! Don't worry though, it's only the flush of first love. And I may cheat soon and try Brains Dark.

assault on my sense

Recently I watched what was a pretty good thriller on T.V.  -- Assault on Precinct 13, a 2005 remake of a classic John Carpenter film which I haven't seen.

I would say the operative words here are 'was a pretty good thriller' up until the last 10 minutes when a movie set in downtown Detroit inexplicably grew a conifer forest.

What drew me into the film at the beginning was the scene of an urban street in a blizzard. Gee, that looks like Detroit, I thought. Sure enough then came along the River Rouge and Zug Island works and the city of Detroit skyline. It had an excellent cast and moved quickly. Though there were obvious flaws in its plot: why didn't the bad cops use tear gas in the beginning, or just set the place alight to accomplish their aim? I would have given it a hearty thumbs up.

But this film is an extreme example of how to ruin a good film with very sloppy handiwork in the last 10 minutes. The van carrying the 'good' guys crashes in an industrial site and in the next frame the main character is hiding out in pine trees with obvious fake snow and one of the protaganists from the crashed car appears unscathed in the same woods (though others have clearly died in the crash). Listen folks, there are NO FORESTS IN DOWNTOWN DETROIT -- especially pine forests. IF there were trees near a Detroit industrial site they would be Carolinian, such as maples and oaks.

The filmmakers, just to prove they hadn't totally forgotten where their movie was set, ended the movie with a shot pulling away from the forest to show a badly airbrushed fake city skyline, which was set rather high on a hill. THERE ARE NO HILLS IN DOWNTOWN DETROIT.

With all the money spent on films and all the meticulous work involved in their making, how do things like this happen?

cardiff big weekend

 

This past weekend was Cardiff's Big Weekend. It's not a holiday weekend, just a big, three-day free music festival with a summer midway and fireworks every night at City Hall. I pass through it on my way to and from work and was able to hear a bit of the music on Saturday and a bit more on Sunday. I was hoping to sit on the grass and enjoy the lineup Sunday afternoon but the skies, which had co-operated until then, opened up in typical UK fashion and dropped the rains pretty steadily all day and evening amid spells of respite. Check out the BBC coverage for proof that the weekend was not a washout.

Still, I saw King Charles and enjoyed him and his randy band very much -- excellent musicians with a rogue's touch. During the band setup I visited the National Museum, seen below to the left of the stage. I have spent several rainy days off at this excellent free museum.

Also, in the midway, was what was billed as a reverse bungee. IF I were ever to attempt anything like a bungee jump, this would be the way to go, caged-in sitting on padded seats with someone by your side. Most midway rides were £2 to £4 each (certainly not cheap), but this bungee thrill went for a whopping £12.50, with the option of an £8 DVD to commemorate the event if desired.

King Charles plays late Sunday afternoon

Reverse bungee -- for the ride of your life

langland bay



Langland Bay, Gower Peninsula

Last Saturday, after a few days where I was basically sick at home with a bad cold, I took a train ride to Swansea again for a great escape. Swansea trips really do the trick of setting everything back into perspective.

I wanted to spend the day on one of the beautiful beaches west of Swansea on the Gower Peninsula. This time I caught a bus from Swansea into Mumbles which landed me at the beginning of the cliffside walk along the Gower. So beautiful. One could walk for days, from beach to beach, with a little town or cafe within easy reach. On the other side of the Mumbles Pier one climbs to the path and there is lovely Bracelet Bay, compact and inviting, the rocks circling the fringe like a bracelet. Above the bay there is an affordable, nice Italian eatery with a stunning outlook towards the Mumbles Lighthouse.

The walk from Mumbles to Langland is an easygoing 45 minutes, with a few steep climbs. After Bracelet Bay is Limeslade Bay. These are both rocky, though Limeslade has pockets of sand. A few people sit here. Each beach feels as if it could be your own secret, private beach. It is busier at the larger, sandy Langland Bay. Mothers and small children check out the tide pools, girls and boys clamber over the rocks, families claim their spot on the wide expanse of sand while several brave the cold waters. Langland is fringed with a few cafes and rows of prettily painted beach huts, where people view the sea and scene as if from their front porches.

I climb onto a rock with my packed lunch and book and sink my toes into the warm sand and all is right with the world.



Heading back from Langland






Mumbles Pier



Balancing act -- Mumbles on Swansea Bay