Cenarth

      On our return home from our stay in Cardigan we stopped at Cenarth to visit the falls and the bridge. A Romantic, harmonic coupling of the nature and man. Of Romanticism and Enlightenment. And a lovely thing is this bridge, the work of David Evans, built between 1785-7. David was the son of William Edwards, Methodist minister and architect, builder of the famous bridge at Pontypridd. Edwards senior also built the Wychtree Bridge at Morriston which, alas, was shamefully demolished by the local council in the late Fifties. These elegant structures are some of the architectural and engineering marvels of not only Wales but the whole Kingdom. It has to be said that the falls, which have attracted any number of artists during the Romantic period and since, were a little quiet the day we were there; it being the end of summer and all that. In full spate, however, they are apparently quite the thing. 

Aberystwyth

     The first full day of our trip to Cardigan and a little jaunt up to Aberystwyth, a place that could claim to be the nation's cultural capital.  And a grey day we had of it.

     The old town is a dense network of narrow streets. Very urban feeling, very busy. A place, I suggest, of contrasts. Seaside and culture. Working class and middling. County and cosmopolitan. A place of faded respectability. I don't want to suggest that this is a place of conflict, but I suspect that the working class is slowly being ousted (not physically but visually) as the ordinariness of life is being erased as shops such as bakers and butchers disappear from the streets. Supermarkets, and the internet, have become the repositories of the ordinary. The streets are slowly becoming the place of the extra-ordinary - delis and art galleries. Places that are not everyday destinations. Aberystwyth is not the only witness of this process; it is evident too in Cardigan. Gone too are the local garage and the other sorts of workshops - the painter & decorator's yard. And here is where some nats in Wales get it wrong. They see it purely in terms of us and them. However it is a country wide phenomenon. I've long seen it in action in Stamford, Lincolnshire, where thankfully the weekly market helps keeps feet on the ground. It's there too in the Cotswolds and famously in Frome, where now apparently it is difficult for working class families to afford to live. The ideal is of course a 'mixed economy'. Gosh, I hadn't intended when setting out on this post to have such a rant, but I do like to see proper shops - as much as I like galleries and delis.

     All that said there is much architectural interest in Aberystwyth. Pride of place going to the Old College, built originally as a hotel it is a prime example of hard, muscular Gothic that dominated the Revival during the 1850 & 60s. It is pretty aggressive and wilful, endlessly inventive. Restless. Unyielding and relentless. The scale is massive, which is fine for the Promenade, but overwhelming for the gentle classicism of Laura Place behind. It is the work of J P Seddon and has a complex construction history - starting out as an hotel (grandiose and failed) and ending up as part of the University of Aberystwyth. Tamed a little too in the process. Alas and alack! currently the Old College is in bit of a state and is need of some attention. 

Cardigan

      A couple of days away at the end of August staying with the family in Cardigan, county town of Ceredigion. Apologies for the late appearance of this post - technical difficulties! I went Cardigan as a teenager with my parents on our 'circumnavigation' of Wales, and I really remember nothing of that first visit. On this my second I found a lot to enjoy. Another of those remarkable market towns with which our island is so blessed. Tourists should really forget London and get out into the 'provinces'.

      Cardigan is a Norman foundation built atop a defensible ridge running north-south, given further protection to the south by the river Teifi and the west by a stream - the Avon Mwldan. I presume that the rock that makes up this ridge also ensures the firm foundations of the bridge. For all the natural protection of the site town & castle fell to the Lord Rhys in 1165, and it was at Cardigan that he gathered together bards from Wales and beyond for what is counted the first eisteddfod. As you might expect from such places mentioned in this blog before such as Carmarthen, Kidwelly and Bourne there is an accompanying monastic foundation to castle and town. In this case St Mary's priory to the east of the town, a Benedictine house under the authority of Chertsey Abbey and a site of pilgrimage. It is a pattern followed all over these isles where the Normans settled. 

     Until late into the 19th century Cardigan was a small port. There are still warehouses on the banks of the Teifi. Rather lovely they are too with their patterned courses of rubble - a feature of several other buildings in town. I suspect however they were not designed to be seen, these patterns, but hidden under plaster and limewash. The castle has been recently restored and contains an elegant Regency villa of 1827, Castle Green House, and a beautiful kitchen garden. To use that apparently favourite analogy of mine Cardigan is another example of the harmony of orchestral players. Architecturally there are really no soloists, but it is none the worse for that at all. It is how it should be. There are however two exceptions: the strident town hall and market of 1858-60 by R J Withers, and John Nash's Priory of 1788. The latter can seen in the last photograph, almost mutilated beyond recognition. 

     Finally, we ate really well in Cardigan: pizza at Pizzatipi, dinner at The Copper Pot and brunch at Crwst.  All recommended.