Hay-On-Wye

Read and share memories of Hay-On-Wye and Herefordshire inspired by Frith photos

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Alli in Glasbury

Fred took Allan fishing some time in the 1950's, when Allan was in his twenties. He had just married Norah (Nina) - (her mother used to call her No). Allan remembers wading out in Fred's waders and standing in The River Wye until the moon came up. Then Nina came and called him in. There was a shed, where they kept tea and a kettle, and when they went down, they would have tea. Alli always forgot time when he was there, in the river. They used crumbs for bait, in bottle with bottom removed to catch and watch sticklebacks. They were there to catch a trout and they did. About a year later, Alli ...read more here
A memory of Glasbury On Wye contributed by Kayte Dyson

Burning Feet

When I was about 12 years old, with feet as thick as young, strong leather, my father, who was a pilot (Allan Dyson) and Nina (my mum, Nina actually) took us all from our home on a plot of land in Halfway House in the Transvaal (some distance from a town or city) to Glasbury on Wye.
There, in the blacksmith's house, the farrier was beating iron.  We stood to watch and then the farrier asked 'What's burning?'.  We all looked at each other and sniffed.  Then I felt it.  A hot coal had made its way through the sole of my Transvaal foot and we had trouble removing it quickly enough.  My Welsh cousins were impressed with that only, my ...read more here
A memory of Glasbury On Wye contributed by Kayte Dyson

Tiddler Fishing

My grandparents lived in Park Road, and as children myself and my sister used to go tiddler fishing under the suspension bridge. My sister's cat, Danny, used to follow us and join us in our endeavours. And my cat, Honey, got stuck up a tree. I remember being terrified crossing the suspension bridge as it swayed from side to side - better than any ride at Alton Towers!
A memory of Builth Wells contributed by verena lewis

Where I started out

I was born in the War Memorial Hospital, Crickhowell in 1949. I don’t remember that bit, but I remember traveling down to Crickhowell on days out just to sit on the bridge watching the water pass by - so peaceful, outstanding scenery, I thought it was beautiful.  We lived in Brynmawr, not too far away. Then years later I loved to go down to Crickhowell in my boyfriend’s car even though he drove too fast down the country lanes.  Yes, Crickhowell is beautiful.  I will always love it there - it's my birthplace.
A memory of Crickhowell contributed by jackie haynes