Portmanmore Road 1964 Part Two

A Memory of Splott.

My dad was from Bridgend and my mother was from Llanharran. In 1961 soon after they’d got together, I was conceived, they left the valley's and moved in with my Nan, Maureen Payne / Pobihem, and Step Grampy, Polish partner John Pobihem along with my aunties Janice, Sandra, Sonia and Uncle Peter; my Nan was pregnant with my Uncle Mark. My Nan was better known to us as Bigmam; I didn’t know she was my Nan until I was 8 years old; she was always Bigmam. At the time they owned a Butcher Shop in Portmanmore Road, a couple of blocks up from the Fish & Chip shop owned by the Greeks.
Nan gave birth to my uncle Mark Pobihem in Glossip Terrace Hospital in February of 1962, and then I was born in Glossip Terrace Hospital in April 1962. Obviously there was no room in their tiny flat. I remember dad telling me how he rented an old disused Fire Station in the Cardiff Dock and transformed into a home for us to live in.
In October 1963 they were married at Cardiff Registry Office, and had a few drinks in the Fleurs Pub on the corner of Portmanmore Road to celebrate.
Then my younger sister Sian Evans was born in St David’s Hospital in November of 1963.
Soon after, we moved in with my mother’s family in Llanaharan. When I was nearly 3 years old we moved back to Portmanmore Road.
I remember taking my younger sister to nursery. I’d hold onto the coach pram as mam and I crossed the busy Portmanmore Road; it was either around the first or second corner on the same side as the fish & chip shop. It was a narrow street and the nursery was at the bottom; the smell of baked bread made my taste buds dance. When we use to pick up my sister all the kids would be sleeping in tiny beds all in a straight row in the playground, grey candlewick blankets covered them; teachers pacing up and down. My sister’s bed was the last one on the right-hand side as we entered the nursery gates. I’d wonder why I couldn’t attend school, as I was older than my sister.
The smell of baked bread made my taste bud dance. The dust in the air from the Steelworks mixed with black smoking chimneys seemed kind of fresh in winter, but we know better now.