I arrived at Llechryd later than I’d anticipated due to road works and a traffic accident that blocked the coast road between Aberystwyth and Aberaeron, and was almost immediately whisked off to the village by my hostess as there was to be some sort of procession. It turned out to be most of the local schoolchildren in masks and carrying shields holding aloft a papier-mâché pig and singing in Welsh! We duly processed down the main road, with adults in high-vis jackets directing the traffic, down to the old packhorse bridge over the River Teifi where the pig was put into a coracle and rowed across to a small island mid-stream where a bonfire burned, and there he was left. I was completely bemused by all this, but it turned out to be a community project depicting a story from the ancient Welsh texts of the Mabinogion – ‘Olwen and Culhwch’ to be precise. I hope you are all sitting comfortably as I am now going to précis the story for you:
Culhwch (pronounced Kilook) was the son of a king of Wales, and his mother died in childbirth. Culhwch was brought up away from home and his father forgot to mention his son when he remarried an ambitious woman with a daughter. When she found out she thought that she could marry the two off and therefore secure the inheritance but Culhwch was having none of it, so she cursed him and said that he could only marry Olwen, who was the daughter of a giant, Ysbaddaden (pronounced Is-bath-adden). Nobody seemed to have heard of these people so Culhwch set off to ask his cousin Arthur down in Cornwall (yes – it’s King Arthur) and his knights to help him. Once he’d established his credentials, Arthur pledged his assistance to Culhwch, and a band of six knights set off on the quest to find Olwen. After many adventures and wrong turnings they eventually came to the giant’s palace, but he would only entertain Culhwch as a future son-in-law if he performed forty impossible tasks involving giants, underworld prisons, and monsters of all sorts including the Twrch Trwyth (pronounced Turk True –ith), a magical boar who holds a comb and shears between his ears with which Culhwch has to shave the giant’s beard. Culhwch agrees to perform all these tasks in return for the hand of Olwen and he and his band of knights set out on many more perilous adventures before returning triumphant and claiming the hand of the beautiful Olwen. The giant dies and the rest of them live happily ever after.
Originally this tale would have been handed down orally (it was only written down in the Middle Ages), and the telling of it would probably have taken place over many evenings so, as you can see, I have shortened it slightly! I read the story, in translation, as on the second Saturday that I was there my hosts took me down to see the children perform their version of the story, entitled ‘Ogi,Ogi, Mabinogi!’ and I needed to have some idea of the plot as almost the entire performance was in Welsh. I may not have understood much but the children’s singing and their enthusiasm for the performance was outstanding.
My hosts run a Bed and Breakfast place but it is only in its infancy, as they have been in Wales just two years, so while I was there I did a bit of decorating – rubbing down and priming some window frames, helped build a new raised bed using recycled railway sleepers that had been cut into planks – about 10” wide x 8’6” long x 2.5” deep and very heavy, washed down the inside and outside of their polytunnel, re-oiled their teak garden furniture in the barn when it was too wet to go outside, and bramble bashed in their small paddock. In return for this I was fed exceptionally well as Ruth and Lee both enjoy cooking.
On one of my days off I went to Cardigan and had a wander round. It’s many years since I was last there, as we took the children there for a holiday when they were about 6 and 8. I couldn’t suppress the smile that crept over my face when I passed a Chinese restaurant – it was the same one that we’d been to all those years ago, and we’d met up with my brother who was walking the coast path. At that time he was a vegetarian, and I still remember David’s bewildered comment as he watched his uncle tucking into the Sweet and Sour Pork, ‘But Nunc, I thought you were vegetarian?’ and the reply came back, quick as a flash ‘I am....but I’m on holiday!’ Brilliant!
In the local paper I noticed that there was to be a concert in the theatre in Cardigan featuring a Welsh folk band called Calon and a Scottish folk group called Breabach. Both Ruth and Lee wanted to go too so off we went. I’d seen Calon perform at the Shrewsbury Folk Festival earlier in the year, but it was much better seeing them perform in a smaller venue. Both groups were made up of young performers but, unfortunately, nearly all of the audience was of a ‘certain age' – it just isn’t fashionable(I was going to say ‘cool’ here, but decided that’s probably the wrong word) to like folk music I suppose.
I have now come a few miles south of Llechryd, the other side of the Preseli Hills, to a farm at Llanboidy near St Clears (pronounced St Clares, I discovered!) and will tell you about that later.
