Johnny Cash and Wales v. Scotland

So this week was pretty dull for blog excitement, at least during the week. I'd gotten a cold a week or two before and had been drinking a lietre of oj every day, that along with my vitamin c/zinc supplement to keep disease at bay, was giving me over 700% of my daily vitamin c dosage. By Wednesday, the cold had gotten a bit ridiculous, but that was also the day we'd planned on going to see "Walk the Line," which had finally come out the Friday before. Some friends of mine from work came with me to meet Andy, Trace, and GP at the theatre, which was tough enough to find at the Barbican. I didn't know how Johnny Cash and his music would be taken in the UK, but my friends from work really enjoyed it, as have most people I've heard from. I was quite glad to have finally seen it and spent the entire tube ride to work the next morning listening to Johnny Cash on my ipod.

The other storyline of the week was the debate about what to do that weekend. I'd been pushing for Cornwall, but no one else was feeling it. Finally, on Friday, we decided to push Cornwall to the following weekend and to go to Cardiff (capital of Wales) instead. It turned out being just Trace and I going that Saturday morning, but the trip turned out to be fabulous.

While waiting in Paddington Station in London, I noticed a group of guys of a range of ages all wearing kilts, still not a common sight in London. Once getting off the train in Cardiff, we realized what was going on. The seas of kilts and flag-clad Scots we realized that there must be the Wales v. Scotland rugby match that weekend (later verified). In the UK (& France and Italy) there's a huge rugby tournament called the Six Nations, where Wales, Scotland, England, Ireland, Itlay, and France all compete against each other in a Superbowl/Sweet Sixteen/Fab Four/(insert your hugely popular sporting event here)-esque tourney. As we discovered in Cardiff, they go all out. The handful of crazies you get at college football games dressed in team paraphenalia and facepaint would be for the Six Nations at least 90% of the fans. And not only were they absolutely insane on game day, they were also decked out all weekend long. Anyway, the influx of rugby fans made it a bit of a challenge to find lodging, and by the time we did, and then got dinner at (yes, a bit toolish, I know) the Hard Rock Cafe, all the touristy stuff was closed. So we spent the evening wandering down towards the big revitalization area of Cardiff Bay and then back towards the city, before settling in a pub to kill some time before the place with the "live Irish music" started with their tunes. (photo: some of the Cardiff Bay area with radom statues in the foreground)

While in the pub chatting and singing along to "American Pie," two Scottish guys our age and wearing kilts (one with a flag) joined us at our table. Apparently part of a tradition of theirs, they come down every year but aren't allowed to bring luggage other than their money and a toothbrush. They'd been imbibing since early that morning, and were a bit batty when they joined us. Adding to the situation were the Welsh women of all ages curious to know if they wore anything under their kilts (they were completely traditional, as we found out while answering the queries of the Welsh women). Later, their other two friends joined us and we had a fun time hanging out. We dragged them out of that pub to the place with the live Irish music, only to discover that the pub was so full of Welsh and Scots that they didn't much bother with the Irish music. Instead, amidst all the rugby trash-talking, I got a lesson on the importance of elbows in Scottish dancing (v. chicken dance) and also the political/religious connotations to the song "Fields of Athenrye." The Scots and Welsh we learned also have their pops anthems. While indeed a fan of "Maggie May," by Rod Stewart, the true song that gets any Scot dancing and yelling loudly is "500 Miles" byt the Proclaimers. The Welsh love Tom Jones, but particularly, and much to my delight, "Delilah." I love the Scots, and now also the Welsh if not only for their love of Tom Jones and one of his masterpieces. After learning some of the national athems for the six nations, Trace and I managed to escape the pub and make our way back to the B&B. (photos: our new friends dancing, with elbows; our friends John, Mark, and Duncan (Steve pictured in the background of the previous photo)).


The next morning after breakfast we headed into town to go to Cardiff Castle. Located in the centre of town, it's a big open space with an empty keep in the centre that you can climb and the mansion of 100+ rooms on the edge, which we toured. It was a v.. cool castle, and ranks among Warwick as one of my favorites. After the castle, we tried to make our way to the Museum of Welsh Life, a living history representation of Welsh history and life from Celtic times - 1950s at a place on the outskirts of Cardiff. However, being Sunday and a huge game day, reduced service made it too difficult and we settled for wandering around the city and watching the crazy fans. We settled for the Welsh National Museum where we went through a fantastic exhibit called "the Origins of Wales," a trace of geological and bilogical history from Pangea up to today (they also had a great impressionist collection of paintings, though not in the geology part of the museum). After the museum, it was back into town to try to catch some food and the rugby game. However, the pubs were, of course, more or less packed and we settled for a "Mexican" restaurant and caught the tailend of the match through the window into the bar (Wales easily beat Scotland). (photos: streets of Cardiff with Castle on right early in the morning before the game, but street vendors are already in place!; red dragon (symbol of Wales) and castle keep; view of town from the keep with the stadium on the right with the weird white tower things; me in the keep; crazy welsh fans with flag kilts; and more rugby fans on the streets at a pub near the stadium.)







After dinner, it was off to the train to head back to London. However, that's what lots of people were doing, and we had a bit of a queue to get on the train. Also, all of the drinking partying Welsh and Scots continued that pattern in the bar car, just next to our train car. We had quite the amusing snippets of the same drunken Welsh/Scottish singing and chanting everytime the car door opened, not once being annoying but instead rather hilarious.

I really enjoyed Wales and the people were fantastic and so friendly. They were also v. proud of being Welsh. Everywhere on their cars were stickers saying "I heart Cardiff" and "Proud to be Welsh," etc. I was a bit excited to buy a Davis tartan for our realatives from way back when. I can't wait til I can go back and see more of the country and for longer!