The Lovely Long Ago

A Memory of Penarth.

My husband was born in Albert Road, Penarth 1943 and used to speak of loads of old tanks left to rot away in fields. Also some sort of tunnel that was later blocked off. He would have walked to the beach down this road. He used to talk of his dog Peter and how he would throw a ball into the sea no matter how high the waves and Peter would dive in and get it back. My husband left there for the Midlands when he was 7 years old and had learned to count to 10 in Welsh. He came to the Black Country and could hardly understand a word of what people said.