We went to Newport in south Wales yesterday – we’re fortunate that this interesting city is only about an hour away from us, although we have to cross the Bristol Channel on one of the Severn bridges, it’s motorway pretty much all the way. It’s proper name is Casnewydd which actually means new castle , although only a ruin of it remains. The castle was built in order to control the crossing of the River Usk which flows through the city and into the Severn Estuary.
We spent the morning wandering round one of the many parks in the city, Beechwood Park which has an excellent café where we had a most enjoyable lunch. The park was originally the grounds of Beechwood House which was built in the late 1870’s for a former mayor of Newport but it became a public park in 1900. In the afternoon we headed into the city -we parked near the River Usk, and then ambled across a bridge into the city centre. We passed the ruined castle which I’m looking forward to visiting at some other time; it has an interesting history, probably built by Hugh de Audley in the late fourteenth century, it was sacked by Owain Glyndŵr in 1402, and by a hundred years later was pretty much a ruin by the time Oliver Cromwell’s forces took it. Yes, I’m looking forward to visiting it properly at some point!
Like many town and city centres today, Newport is mainly pedestrianised, and we had a pleasant hour or so strolling through the streets, mentally noting places to visit when we have longer to visit. I’m looking forward to seeing St Gwynllyw’s Cathedral, which has a very long history. There are many interesting buildings, and of course a museum and art gallery. Newport seems to be a city of bridges, and we crossed a couple as we went into and then returned from the centre. I’m already looking forward to going back for more Welsh adventures!
For some reason I didn’t take any photos this time, so instead of an image of “this interesting city” I’m sharing a picture of Welsh sheep on Welsh hills!
Lois Elsden 
You might not remember, but Newport was where my Dad was born and lived until he was six. His father was born in March (but his birthday was in February as he told me, many times) and was a tailor. He set up a shop in Newport but was ruined by the National Strike. That only lasted six weeks in the country at large but, because the focus of it was about miners, the pits stayed closed for six months. Uncle Ted was still a babe in arms when Dad’s parents were obliged to go back to Cambridge to the house on Parkside, organised by Great Grandpa Rueben for them, rented from Peterhouse.
Sadly, for my Dad, they left him in Wales with a childminder until they were able to send for him. He was sent by train, with a label, in the guard’s van. Imagine that! A boy of six, sent as if he were a parcel. I assume it meant a trip across London to King’s Cross.
When Dad got to Cambridge, instead of being welcomed back into the bosom of his family, he found himself having to live in the Fitzroy Arms with his Grandfather, Aunt Nell, Uncle Wal and Catherine. From that day onwards, it was evident that he hated his mother but had a persistently loving relationship with Nell. He was a very strange man but I think we can guess why.
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I’d forgotten that there was a Newport connection – but was never really sure of all the details. What a story, poor child! My aunty (mum’s sister) used to put her two eldest children on a bus with a luggage label pinned to their coats and send them to visit some relative when they were young. This was in the 50’s and my cousin was only about six and her brother three!!
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Also, I’m writing a children’s story set in the 50’s and in a chapter something similar happens to the young girl who is the main character.
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