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Llanedwen, Shop and Cafe c1960
Llanedwen, Shop and Cafe c1960 Ref: L408037
Memories of Llanedwen, Shop and Cafe
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Memories of a happy childhood A memory of Llanfairpwllgwyngyll, Gwynedd I was born and grew up in the little village of Llanfairpwll. Mine was a happy childhood, free of drugs, vandalism and graffiti. Everyone knew everyone in the village, which in those days, over 60 years ago, was predominantly Welsh. We were taught in Welsh at the Infants School. Until one sunny afternoon, the excited English voices of evacuees from the English cities of the North were heard. Each home in the village was allotted their share of these children. The war had come to Llanfairpwll. Very soon afterwards, all the trees in the Column Woods were cut down and hauled away, to be used in the war effort. The grand old house, Plas Llanfair was commandeered for barracks for Army personnel. First came a Welsh regiment. These were followed by a Scottish Regiment, the Lovett Scouts. Their pipe band marching through the village streets were a sight to behold, and it was the very first time I heard bagpipes playing. When the Scots departed, the Yanks moved in. I had never before seen African Americans, or Jeeps, or had doughnuts and chewing gum. But we soon got accustomed to seeing the Americans going about their daily business. Not too many people will know that at this time, the great Brown Bomber, Joe Louis visited the troops at Plas Llanfair to give an exhibition. I think that the Yanks must have taken their leave just before D-Day. My memories of the war were not that unpleasant. We had rationing and gas masks, but the war was never a reality for me as a young boy. Until one night, a German bomber discarded its unused cargo of bombs over the village. The only real casualty was No 8 Maen Afon, which was totally demolished. The other houses were intact and a canary in its cage survived. The other bombs in the stick fell into fields surrounding the village. One fell behind the railway station. The railway station, famous for the long name set up along the platform, played a big part in my growing up. As a young boy, it was from here that we used to catch the Sunday School Trip train to one of the nearby seaside towns, such as Rhyl or Colwyn Bay. It was a very eventful day in our young lives, and we went on this trip annually. I was later to work on the Station as a Junior Booking Clerk, a very happy time in my life. I was surrounded by older workmates who taught me and teased me endlessly. They were all characters in their own right, and I remember them fondly. Names that come to mind are William (Information) Williams, a Porter, who knew a little about everything. There was Will Goods and Will Davies who ran the Goods Yard from what is now the Cafe and Souvenir Shop. The Station House was occupied by the Station Master and his family. This gentleman was always immaculately dressed and always appeared to me as a miniature Welsh Guardsman. All this changed for me early one morning in April 1953. This is the day that I turned round to wave to my mother and father before turning the corner at Miss Owen's shop. Case in hand, I was on my way to the Station to catch a train to Wrexham. It was the end of childhood, a happy one for me. I had been conscripted into the Royal Air Force to do my National Service. I left Llanfairpwll that day with a mixed feeling of sadness and anticipation. In the years to follow, I was to further enlist in the Royal Navy, get married and have a family. I was never to settle back in Wales and my village home. I have lived in Australia for over three decades. It has never felt like home. Home will always be that little Welsh village. It is where my best and sweetest memories stem from. It is where my parents were born, and where they lived out their lives. Home is the little slateroofed house into which my parents moved on their wedding night, and from which my mother moved to another kind of home in the village. She had lived in her little house for over 70 years and had brought her five sons into the world there. She died very recently at 99 years of age. What a host of memories she would have had. During my short and rare visits to Llanfairpwll, I am struck by the many changes that have taken place over the years. It has grown and many of the quaint little cottages have been extended and covered in pebble dash. They in turn have been surrounded by larger and more modern houses. The little green fields, where I romped as a boy, have been taken over by fancy named housing estates. Welsh is still largely spoken, but English can be also heard in the streets and shops. I know very few people that I meet . For an ageing man, an exile, with only precious childhood memories of the place, the changes I see have not improved my village home, which was always perfect. But I consider myself extremely fortunate. I can go away and only retain the memories of Llanfairpwll that I had as a boy, where I lived among careing, kind people. I go away with memories of a happy childhood. Last edited: 17/04/2007 09:10 by Glynne Parry |
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 Menai Bridge, Suspension Bridge 1890 (ref: 23187t) |
Year: 1930s
My Childhood memories of Menai Bridge A memory of Menai Bridge, Gwynedd My father was born in Talwrn near Llangefni and each year we would go by train to Liverpool and then go to the pier head and board St Tudno which sailed at 10 30 am, dropping people off about 12 in Llandidno then onto Menai Bridge, where we arrived around 2pm. We always looked to see who could see Menai Bridge first, and passing by Bango Pier we knew that my grandparents would be waiting for us with the horse and wagon, then the first stop was to my Aunt Mary and Uncle Tom in Llanfair PG who had a big spread waiting for us [he was a mail man in Llanfair PG]. Across the road from my aunt's was a big rock which we used to climb up with our cousins while the relatives enjoyed the reunion, afterwards we got back onto the wagon and Polly the horse trotted off to Talwrn, which I seem to remember was about 8 miles, it was a long day and we were all tired. The next morning after breakfast we would run down the lane to see Uncle Will and Aunty Maggie and our cousins and play around a stream that ran through their farm. Last edited: 09/05/2008 11:30 by Trevor Williams |
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Year: 1948
The community A memory of Dwyran, Gwynedd Going to G F S at the church rooms every Friday evening to practise our folk dancing ready for the Eisteddfod at Llangefni in the May. (G F S: Girls Friendly Society). We still have our standard in the church at Llangeinwen. The drama practice at the chapel rooms every Monday evening with Mrs Roberts Gelliniog Wen. Last edited: 01/09/2008 10:06 |
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Caernarvonshire & Anglesey Hospital A memory of Bangor, Gwynedd I remember doing my nurse training in this hospital 1967-70, it was a beautiful old building, now I believe it is a supermarket, oh dear!!! I wonder is there anyone out there who did training at the same hospital,I am so surprised to see no one has left a memory of Bangor. Last edited: 25/02/2008 09:38 by Delphine Chapple |
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 Caernarfon, Castle Square 1959 (ref: C33083) |
Year: 1959
Castle Square Bus Terminus A memory of Caernarfon, Gwynedd Castle Square of the 1950s and 60s had a vibrancy that is absent nowadays. This was because all of the local bus services terminated there and a constant stream of people dismounted to go about their business throughout the day. People from the hillside communities came to town to do their shopping, buy food, clothing, hardware etc. Families arriving from Liverpool on the coach would change here to local buses to Dinas Dinlle, Nantlle or Waenfawr if revisiting their relatives and places of birth. There were buses in every colour of the rainbow. Mr Williams's Whiteway vehicles were the most noticeable, but Motorcoch (Clynnog & Trefor) in red and cream looked most dignified. (They served Pwllheli on a service of over an hour's duration.) Silver Star buses in reds and blues vied for position with Express Motors' mainly red vehicles that ran to Rhostryfan and other, maybe less exotic destinations in the hills. Dominant upon the bus 'stance' were the Green buses of Crosville Motor Services who operated more than twenty routes from the town. In the late 50s, Saturday night in the 'square was synonymous with throngs of people who, when the cinemas and pubs emptied would all head for their buses home at essentially the same time! The Salvation Army would be in attendance by the fountain, singing and selling copied of the 'Warcry', all this adding to the general melee. There would be maybe twenty or more buses all waiting for the ten o'clock 'getaway to the hills'. The Crosville Stand Inspector (Phillips?) would 'rack up' his many vehicles ready for the 'off'. The arrival of the Liverpool coach at nine fifty five, heralded the start of many engines and the rush for their bus by many often unsteady patrons. On the stroke of ten, the ensemble of buses would all move forward, surging for their place in the grand exit. Then quite surprisingly, a silence would descend on the square, interrupted only by the rustle of discarded chip papers and other litter blowing about. There were a few more Crosville departures but other than for these, the square would fall silent until the next morning. The multicoloured surge of overloaded vehicles would all be heading to their small upcountry destination villages, to slumber overnight in their depots - often little more than overgrown sheds. Crosville had their own large brick and concrete depot in the town itself. Castle Square was in those days the centre of the town's activity and even today, with the relocation of the bus station some years ago, it remains a place of great interest. Last edited: 30/09/2008 09:06 by John Owen |
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