Swansea and Newport

With concerns surrounding Coronavirus mounting, we were unsure whether our trip to South Wales would go ahead last weekend. We had intended to combine it with a stay in Herefordshire for our inaugural Pony Weekend, so there was a fair bit of money riding on it. With the Government advice being as woolly as you would expect from Boris Johnson, as the week progressed, there was no specific advice telling us to avoid travel and so we decided to go ahead with the trip. As it turned out, it was likely to be the last trip we will do for a while.

We had booked a Premier Inn in Pontypool for the Friday and Saturday, as our usual Ibis Budget in Newport was full of Scottish rugby fans heading to the Six Nations clash with Wales on Saturday afternoon. This meant it was a greater inconvenience to get to and from Swansea as we would have liked, but at least we got to see another part of the country. As it turned out, with Coronavirus becoming increasingly threatening, the rugby fixture was cancelled but this didn't stop an army of Scots from coming down anyway and having a weekend out. There were a few at our hotel, where we arrived shortly after 11pm as I had to be in the office during the day for a company pizza event. There were work's drinks afterwards, followed by a leaving party, meaning I was somewhat delayed in getting out. What made us later was the partial closure of the M50, meaning we had to go via the Severn Bridge to get to Pontypool. As it was then, by the time we arrived, there were no pubs and bars open and as we were effectively off a dual carriageway there was nowhere to go anyway. Wolfie had a can of Coors Light in the room.

The staff at the hotel were very friendly, and told us that it would be unwise to walk to Pontypool and New Inn station as it was dual carriageway all the way. They recommended we ring a taxi, which we did on the Saturday morning, after having a rather miserly breakfast in the restaurant. Still, it was tasty nonetheless and soon enough we were whisked to the railway station by a friendly taxi driver. Alas, Wolfie was on call and had been rung out just as we got in the cab, so conversation was minimal.

The train was delayed and then the toilet malfunctioned, meaning we had to change at Cardiff. Considering Coronavirus measures, I was surprised just how busy the service was, although it did become less busy as the train reached the Welsh capital. Everyone was really friendly though, including Lilo and Stitch bobble hat lady and the guy who was celebrating his 54th birthday by wearing a sash and going out with friends. At Cardiff railway station, we got to learn what the Welsh for 'selfie stick' is, before we boarded the next service to Wales's second city, chugging through the damp verdant countryside before arriving at the terminus stop.

The station is just outside the city centre to the north, and it's fair to say that the road leading towards the centre did not showcase the city in the best of light. A little rundown, we feared the worst, before it opened out onto a rather charming square, with the old Swansea Castle, founded in 1107, situated in the south-east corner. This is barely the ruin of a tower these days and alas it was not open, but it did give a tantilising glimpse into the history of the city. The view was slightly marred by the ugly concrete BT tower behind it, while Castle Square itself was charming enough, despite having a McDonald's sat on it. There was a small fountain with a leaf sat upon it, around which were some stone plinths denoting where we were had facial carvings of knights that looked disturbingly like Dave Gorman. On this square too there was a bar serving the local Boss Brewery beer which alas we didn't get to sample.

Our initial plan was to call in on Brewdog and get the stamp, our 70th and the primary reason for being in the city in the first place. We reasoned that if emergency Coronavirus measures forced bars to shut immediately, it would represent a wasted trip, while the bar was on Wind Street (as in the verb) which was just off Castle Square. This is the main party street and I suspect suffers from the same issue as the one in Carlisie does of an evening, but it was reasonably serene when we were down there, what with it being just after noon. We soon found the bar and got our stamp, along with a beer, while we were also recommended another microbrewery called Beer Riff which was down by the harbout. We will come to that later. This recommendation came both from Brewdog and a local fur called Googled Otter, who alas could not meet us, but who gave us a fair bit of insight into the city.

Once we had had a couple of beers, we thought it wise to see city. Stopping off at the quaint St Mary's Church en route, we headed down towards the harbour area, spotting a few police cars dealing with a road traffic accident. Once there, we had a pleasant stroll along the marina, which has been repurposed as a leisure facility to store boats. Vestiges of the port still remain though, with it being particularly important for the export of tin and steel in the Victorian era, the Pump House perhaps being the clearest example of the industrial heritage here. By the dock, we also saw a statue of a grizzled old seaman that looked a little like Captain Bird's Eye while in the square opposite this next to the theatre named after him, there was a statue of local poet Dylan Thomas sat on a chair. There is a museum dedicated to his works further up the road but alas we did not have time to go and see it.

We did get to see the Swansea Museum Tramway Centre, a small exhibit dedicated to the trams that ran along the coast between the city and the Mumbles some five miles away. Manned by two keen, marginally bored attendants, we ended up chatting to both at them at length about public transport and the history of the trams in the city. It was actually quite fascinating to discover this was the first passenger railway in the world (pulled by horses of course), and that its popularity grew during the first half of the twentienth century. Indeed the line was extended beyond its original terminus and there were loads of lovely old photographs of each station, not to mention three models of some of the former trams too. You were allowed to climb in them, including one which had been reconstructed from the shells of tram number 12 and 14, not to mention the front cab of the final electric tram that operated on the line prior to its closure on 4 January 1960. The staff in this museum were full of interesting facts, including many about the city, and it was they who recommended the Boss Brewery Taproom near the Liberty Stadium which alas we did not get chance to see. They also suggested going to the Grape & Olive bar in Swansea's tallest building, which you could see on the other side of the harbour. This we did do, battling the driving rain to see a view which was partially obscured by the driving rain. Fortunately, as we sat on the 28th floor overlooking Swansea Bay to the east, the drizzle did lift slightly and the view became more impressive. This was made especially so with a gin and tonic in hand, along with a local cheeseboard selection which was amongst the grandest we had ever tasted. The waiter initially forgot to add the cheeseboard to our order and Wolfie was silly enough not to register he had paid too small an amount when he did, so it was fortunate I went and checked. The bar was a little odd as it seemed to be atop a residential building and the only way to it was by lift from the ground floor, but it did seem popular, particularly where we were on the highest floor just above the associated restaurant.

Between visiting the Tramway Museum and Grape & Olive, we had called off at the National Waterfront Museum, one of those places where we spent a lot longer than anticipated. Indeed, we ended up staying for over two hours and had to leave prematurely, if only to get everything done. Plus they were also setting up for a wedding reception and we weren't sure how long we would be welcome - they had already moved many of the exhibits out of the way to accommodate the seating. The highlight of the place for us was the exhibition dedicated to Cartŵn Cymru, the cartoon studio behind Funnybones amongst other titles. I remember this show from a child, narrated by Griff Rhys-Jones, and it was especially poignant as there was a TV screen showing some old episodes in front of a tantailising sofa upon which you could sit and watch them. There were a number of other cartoons from the same company highlighted but I don't remember any of them, although seeing the painstaking process and sheer craft it took in making them was fascinating in itself.

There were other highlights to the museum too, the history of the industry of South Wales and the Port of Swansea was fascinating, as was the martime history of Wales as a whole. The fact the Royal Mint is located in Wales afforded much discussion about the manufacture of money, while the rich music scene in Wales was also explored too. Downstairs, we glossed quickly over the Industrial Revolution and mining exhibits only because I've seen something similar before or, in the case of mining, we can visit the National Coal Mining Museum near our house any time we like. The main foyer had an interesting section on Welsh inventions and inventions of the future, the latter in a competition style where they were all competing for funding. There were some very interesting and novel ideas here.

So after this, we went to the Sky Bar and after that we went to Beer Riff, walking along the windswept coastline adjacent to the beach. There were tall sand dunes on one side and some battered looking houses on the other, which would probably make for good residences in the summer but looked threadbare in mid-March. There was some interesting information on the unique wildlife around Swansea Bay, while there was also an observatory cryptically called The Tower of the Ecliptic, which was built in a rather classic 1980s style. As it was a beach, I guess the secrets of this area are only exposed in the warmer months, as it was all rather mysterious. I'm sure it's lovely then but it wasn't particularly welcoming on a slate grey winter's day. What was welcoming was Beer Riff, with its lovely green wooden facade and warm taproom, serving a range of beers they brew themselves as well as top craft beer from other breweries. It was quite busy, so we had to grab a seat around one of the walls, but this still enabled us to try a number of thirds, as well as order some pizza which seemed to be supermarket bought but just warmed up. Still, it was tasty enough, and allowed us to focus on other things later on. We also noticed that they were selling the most fabulously named beer ever, Covered In Puppies by Omnipollo, and while they had run out of it on draft, we did manage to pick up a can on our way out. The welcome we had gotten here from the staff was really good, as were some of the clientelle to whom we spoke, so we left happy.

Wolfie's ankle was starting to growl at him as we left though, so we had to take it easy as we walked back around the harbour and towards the city centre. En route, we spotted a few buildings from Swansea's hayday, as well as some industrial equipment that was inside the grounds of Swansea Museum, a place we did not get chance to see. Shortly after this, we were back on Wind Street, crossing the main road before finding ourselves back outside Brewdog once again. I needed a tinkle, and seeing it wasn't too busy, we grabbed another beer, sitting in the same booth in which we had sat earlier. As this was a tactical call, we decided to leave after just one third, walking around the shopping area of the city on our way back to the train station. The city was closing down while Wind Street was getting busy, so we probably left at the right time, catching the 7:25pm service back to Newport, from where we intended to get a taxi to the Tiny Rebel Tap Room before heading back to Pontypool.

We were really surprised by Swansea, the people were really friendly and there was an awful lot to do in the city. I thought I may never go again, but the countryside to the west appears to be worth visiting and there is still a great deal for us to see in the city itself. In a way I was quite sad to leave, but we had Pony Weekend ahead of us, not to mention an evening in Newport to enjoy. The initial plan was to call off at the 'small' Tiny Rebel bar in Newport City Centre before heading to their main Tap Room on an industrial estate three miles away, which is where they brew the beer. In the end though, we just stayed in Newport, as getting taxis to the Tap Room was proving a ballache and there was more than enough beer to try here. Plus we liked the fact that it was a little oasis of calm in a city full of pumping pissy bars. We were sat at one end, just looking out at one of the main streets, seeing people be sick and urinating, as they stumbled back and forth down the street. Whereas it was unpleasant outside, it was pleasant inside, with great people and bar staff with whom to converse. The beer was good and there was even a giant yellow dragon near the toilets, who offered you to explore the maze of Newport sites written on his skin. One of them was the Newport Wetlands (raises eyebrow). As the evening wore on, we started to appreciate the seriousness of the coronavirus situation though, exacerbated when one guy selfishly failed to wash his hands after using the bathroom. I managed to catch the door before it closed behind him, and held it open for the guy next to me at the urinals, with both of us incredulous at such irresponsibility. This was the only downer though and once we had drank all the bar had to offer, we managed to grab a taxi back to Pontypool from Newport station down the road, getting back to the Premier Inn shortly before midnight.