This document is a snapshot of content from a discontinued BBC website, originally published between 2002-2011. It has been made available for archival & research purposes only. Please see the foot of this document for Archive Terms of Use.
8 May 2012 Accessibility help Text only
BBC Homepage Wales Home Martin's Memories Last updated: 24 November 2005 As a young boy in the 1950s, Martin Tither spent his summer more from this section holidays in Aberystwyth. He recalls those childhood days BBC Local My Story spent at the seaside and how A Week in Westminster Mid Wales times have changed. Abigail's Orang-utans Things to do Back into the big bad world... Bah! Humbug! People & Places Beard and Booze Nature & Outdoors Belonging History This is the fourth in a series of articles by Martin. There are Brinsley Schwarz Religion & Ethics links to the others at the bottom of this page. Calendar Girl Class of '53 Arts & Culture Don't cry for me Aberaeron Music "In Llanbadarn was the twice daily spectacle of the cows being God Bless the Cambrian News! TV & Radio driven down the street for milking - who would even dream of History Hunter it now? I recall Idris Morris, wearing gaiters, coming round Internet Innovators Local BBC Sites Jim's Story News with a churn in the back of a van, from which milk would be Keeping Butterflies Sport ladled out in a measure, straight into jugs. Learner of the Year Led Zeppelin Weather It was Idris who gave me permission to fish from his land Leila's Long Walk Travel Llanidloes Fancy Dress alongside the Rheidol, so it was off to the fishing-tackle shop Martin's Memories Neighbouring Sites (Was it Reddington's in Queen's Street?) where the owner Memories from Bont North East Wales smoked a cigar, sold you all you needed and assured you of Motherhood - My View North West Wales good sport. My West Side Story South East Wales Observations of a Sea-Side Town. Painting with Pammy South West Wales Then there was the time my father returned from an early Prom Days Related BBC Sites morning walk by the river, excited by the sighting of an owl Retraining, Recycling Wales perched placidly in a tree down by the domen. It wasn't until Storm Chasing Student Life Cymru he had collected his camera, rushed back and got the Superstar DJ Canolbarth viewfinder focused on it that he realised that some prankster The Great Storm had rescued a stuffed bird from the rubbish and put it up in The Illustrator the tree. The Warden The storm of 1937 Thousand Mile Walk At the time of building the Nant-y-moch series of dams, we Whitbread Writer went to see the elderly brothers who would see the land their Young Carer family had farmed for years, along with the graveyard where Young playwright family were buried, gradually disappear beneath the water. At Ask a Local that time, a railway siding was laid in at Bow Street station Digital Stories (where one had earlier been removed) so that cement powder Poetry could be transferred to silos for construction. Talking Points Your Stories It was on such trips that we caught glimpses of kites, still related bbc.co.uk links hanging on in the heights, but now to be spotted within 15 miles of my current home in Peterborough. My uncle can recall Local History Aber Life Dr Salter, one of the group who fought to safeguard the remaining population of kites in Mid-Wales, and who used to pay the roadmen to keep an eye out for particular plants and make sure they were not damaged by road repairs.
My uncle had an excellent collection of eggs, with species, dates and locations all recorded, which I believe had belonged to Dr Salter and which were passed to the RSPB.
Sundays were a very different day then. The pubs were closed and everything was quieter as fewer trains ran. Church attendance was obligatory for us youngsters and a peaceful day ensued. Fishing was forbidden.
There was still the split between church and chapel, although I remember admiring the full-size Welsh harp which could be glimpsed in the window of the chapel manse below my grandmother's. Is it my imagination, or were the railings of all chapels painted with silver paint?
As children, we walked distances remarkable to many youngsters today. Up the river from Llanbadarn via the lanes to Capel Bangor, and back by bus. An afternoon expedition to conquer Pen Dinas, or by bus to Clarach, and a walk back over the cliffs and Constitution Hill.
I can remember walking up the Waun to see the Queen open the extension to the National Library in 1955. I didn't understand what it was all about, but I knew something important was going on.
A trip into Aber from Llanbadarn was frequently on foot, either over the railway crossings and down along Blaendolau flats, or along the main road to Halfway/Llangawsai, and then in via Plas Crug. Before turning off the road onto the riverside path, we passed Mr Pearce's redbrick house, now erased by the retail park.
I remember being sent there to buy eggs, only to find that Mrs Pearce was home by herself, and spoke only Welsh. I leave you to imagine how I conveyed, by sign-language and pointing, what I had called for. I, of course, spoke no Welsh.
Going along the flats was my preference with the nearness of the river, the small pools or cut-offs from the river with their pond-skaters and waterplants, going past the farm, watching the rabbits scud away into the gorse bushes, and then having to cross both narrow and standard gauge tracks by the children's park and its slide and swings.
The two gauges were close together there to allow easy transfer of items from BR to Vale of Rheidol trucks. It seemed very brave to walk across ungated tracks, and trains seemed huge when viewed from the trackside, compared with how they looked from the station platform or signal box.
Walking along the main road had other attractions. Starting out from Llanbadarn we passed Mrs Powell's newspaper shop come general stores opposite the War Memorial. It seemed little more than a cubbyhole in the side of the big house on the corner from where she sold fresh bread (from the Ideal Bakery in town which you could visit and see the ovens and the baker wielding huge wooden paddles to retrieve the bread) and newspapers. I remember her hands were always stained the colour of newsprint.
On past the butcher and onto Goronwy's the grocers opposite the high churchyard wall. Along that row of houses was a friend of my Grandmothers, who had a case of stuffed birds very similar to the one I inherited, and probably the work of the well-known Aberystwyth taxidermists.
Onward, avoiding the light, by modern standards, traffic and stopping at the pistyll to give the dog a drink. After that, past the Walls ice cream depot and the Corona soft drinks suppliers the bottles then were glass, with ceramic stoppers restrained by a wire cage that had to be levered off carefully with your thumbs.
Behind them was the gas works, which still had a railway siding laid into it, and covered by the signal box at Llanbadarn. As I recall, it was seldom used and to do so required some fairly complicated movements because the siding faced the wrong way on the up track.
My great aunt died in early 1966 and visits to Aber became few and far between. The occasional trip back as a rail excursion, Grandmother's funeral, the odd day visit when on holiday in the area with my own children - and things had changed.
The picture of a town relying on the holiday trade was changed to one depending on the University. We looked in some ten years ago and were depressed at what we saw and how difficult to find somewhere to eat!
However, last September we (my sister, my wife and I), came back for two nights and discovered a more encouraging face. The Prom requires attention (I wish I had a head for heights lots of need for window-cleaners!) but Aber came across as changed. It still appeared relaxed and leisurely, but had a greater air of prosperity and direction.
On our last morning, we went to the top of Consti and the sun shone. While we stood there, looking down on Aber and along the coast, raking through the memories, the maroons were fired to mark the start of the silence in memory of those who had died earlier that week in the World Trade Centre.
The town fell (largely) silent, and drifting slowly in from the east came three red kites, circling and sweeping on the coastal thermals, giving a superb demonstration of their mastery of the skies. Somehow, it seemed a fitting close to our visit."
Written by Martin Tither who now lives in Peterborough.
Click on the links below to read some of Martin's other recollections of life in Aberystwyth.
The train journey to Aberystwyth. A young boy's fascination with the railways. The pier, the pleasure boats and the prom. Click here to go to our Mid Wales History section.
Martin Turner wants to know more about the Corona bottle in the above story:
Martin:"When did Martin buy the Corona soft drink? I am tring to date a bottle I recently bought? 8 May 2012 Accessibility help Text only
BBC Homepage Wales Home Martin's Memories Last updated: 24 November 2005 As a young boy in the 1950s, Martin Tither spent his more from this section summer holidays in Aberystwyth. Here, he BBC Local My Story describes his fascination with A Week in Westminster Mid Wales the town's trains and railways. Abigail's Orang-utans Things to do Back into the big bad world... Bah! Humbug! People & Places Beard and Booze Nature & Outdoors This is the second in a series of articles by Martin. There are Belonging History Brinsley Schwarz links to the others at the bottom of this page. Religion & Ethics Calendar Girl Class of '53 Arts & Culture Don't cry for me Aberaeron Music "In defiance of the rules, I spent many happy hours in the God Bless the Cambrian News! TV & Radio signal box at Llanbadarn Fawr with Harry Eccles, an History Hunter extremely patient man with a host of tales to tell about his Internet Innovators Local BBC Sites time on the railways. Jim's Story News Keeping Butterflies Sport Learner of the Year He lived in Rock Cottage, between two streams, in an area Led Zeppelin Weather called Mesopotamia. If I remember correctly, he started with Leila's Long Walk Travel loading cattle at Ellesmere and along the old Cambrian lines Llanidloes Fancy Dress before settling at Llanbadarn, with Mr Pugh on the opposite Martin's Memories Neighbouring Sites Memories from Bont North East Wales shift. Motherhood - My View North West Wales My West Side Story South East Wales The box was lit by pressure lamps and cooking was done on Observations of a Sea-Side Town. Painting with Pammy South West Wales a coal stove, the fuel for this being supplied by passing a Prom Days message to engine drivers, inviting them to drop off (literally) Related BBC Sites Retraining, Recycling Wales supplies in passing. Lumps of coal dropped from a passing Storm Chasing Student Life Cymru engine bounced surprisingly far! Superstar DJ Canolbarth The Great Storm The box controlled the change-over from double to single line The Illustrator working as the track headed east, as well as controlling the The Warden level crossing. Opening and closing the gates was achieved The storm of 1937 by means of a huge wheel, rather like a ship's wheel, linked Thousand Mile Walk by rods and chains to transmit the manpower at the wheel to Whitbread Writer Young Carer the gates. Young playwright
I wasn't big enough to Ask a Local Digital Stories manage the wheel, or the big Poetry signal and points levers, but I Talking Points was allowed to pull the pint- Your Stories sized levers that controlled the wicket gates used by related bbc.co.uk links pedestrians to cross the track. Local History At least, I was allowed to use Aber Life them until it was pointed out that my sweaty palms were causing the polished metal tops of the levers to rust - that is why proper signalmen always threw the levers with a duster in their hands.
At the change from double to single track, a token had to be issued to permit the train to pass through. This is part of a complicated safety arrangement designed to ensure that only one train can be on single track at a time - it is only recently that I have come to understand it.
This key/tablet/token was clipped into a snowshoe shaped holder which would be put into a spring-loaded stand at the trackside, from which the fireman would hook it out with his arm as the train swept past. In theory, this should be done at 10mph, but with the bank ahead, train drivers used the gentler slope out of Aberystwyth to work up some momentum, so pick-up speed was probably nearer 30mph, resulting in a hearty crash as the holder slapped against the side of the engine less skilful firemen got bruised as they hooked the device off with their arms while leaning out of the cab.
The passing back of the return token Bow Street to Llanbadarn required the fireman to thread the holder onto a prong at the trackside. Easier at lower speeds and a real challenge when hanging out of the cab with a driver determined to get into Aber and complete his shift.
The loss of the token, or failure to pick it up, as sometimes happened, was a serious business. On up (eastward) journeys, the train would have to be stopped and the fireman obliged to hurry back down the track to collect it ignominiously, while curious passengers looked out of the window to see why the train had come to such a sudden halt and was delayed.
All these incidents had to be recorded in the signalman's book, with full details and timings shown. This book was subject to examination and signing off by inspectors who made unannounced visits to boxes up and down the line. Unannounced, but not always unexpected, as the railway jungle telegraph soon reported their presence on trains or appearance on stations or in boxes.
I recall being bundled out of the box after word had been received of an inspector being spotted in the area.
As well as the distinctive smell of the box, a mixture of coal fire, polish (everything shone), oil for the signal lamps, cooking and Woodbines, it had a distinctive sound. All communication between boxes was by a series of bell codes, which indicated direction of travel, location and train types. These sounds were augmented by the clash of levers as they were thrown, and the rumble of the gate mechanism as it swung to stop the road traffic.
Of course, there were those who were prepared to race the closing gates. No bells or lights in those days to warn of impending closure, merely Harry looking out of the window at approaching traffic and making a judgement, sometimes allowing blocks of traffic through as the train got closer and closer, but always safely achieved.
Less fortunate were those foolish souls who tried to squeeze through the closing gaps or whose impatience drove them to hurry through before the gates were fully open. A slight pause in the rate of opening could result in contact between gate and car and the gates were heavy! I recall on a couple of occasions the entire wire grille on one of the gates being peeled off.
From the elevated operating floor of the box, I had a good view of all sorts of activities. Looking towards Llanbadarn, I could see almost as far as my grandmothers, and then above and beyond that to the church and the cemetery spreading up the hill behind it. Across to Pwllhobi, and then to the point where the track came into view at Fronfraith (?), upriver towards Devil's Bridge, with a watchful eye on the progress of the Little Train, across the fields, later University playing fields to the river, towards Penparcau, round to Pen Dinas, and finally down the tracks to Aber itself.
Early days, it was still possible to watch the movement of trains heading off down the South line to Carmarthen. The current station and its operations is a sad shadow of its former self.
I recall the Goods Yard, with the wagons being unloaded, coal trucks pulling away with deliveries, farming supplies, fertilisers and seeds, oil tankers and general busy-ness. The station building was always spacious and well-lit, with its buffet and Wymans news-stand, together with the Lein Fach booking office.
More working platforms than now, with Carmarthen lines across to the right, and Machynlleth tracks at the centre of the station, with gas-oil heater tanks between them.
I believe my mother worked as a telephonist before the war in the former tea-room after its conversion to telephone exchange. The museum which was there some years ago was fascinating - I came across posters advertising performances of Gilbert and Sullivan by Ardwyn Grammar School in which my mother would have played a part.
To a youngster, the railway appeared to be a living and thriving being, but clearly it was in decline. The increasing car ownership, providing flexibility, freedom and door-to-door travel, meant passenger trains became fewer, shorter and less used.
Gone were the days of special trains, crowded with people in for the day or longer. And yet, I have an impression of a railway system staffed by people determined to see it work, with a pride in their duties, many knowing each other for years and happy doing it.
There used to be the railwayman's club by the north side of the goods yard where they met. There is a whole other story of the social changes brought about by the coming of the railways, from a unified time of day, to increasing the demand for literacy in rural communities.
Other memories from sitting in the box: watching the workmen who were covering the brook which ran down the other side of the road as part of road improvements, attempting to race across the open Vale of Rheidol crossing as the train approached and failing. Surprisingly little damage was done to their blue Bedford van, considering the relative weights of the parties involved, but of course I couldnt be a witness because I wasn't supposed to be there!
Watching people walking down the Vale of Rheidol track to the river everybody did it, regardless of the warning signs. After all, it was perfectly safe when you knew the timetable. The remains of Tin Town, to the south of the narrow gauge track, also the marks of the siding laid in for the Eisteddfod (or was it the Royal Welsh Show) in 195_?"
Written by Martin Tither who now lives in Peterborough. 8 May 2012 Accessibility help Text only
BBC Homepage Wales Home Martin's Memories Last updated: 27 February 2006 As a young boy in the 1950s, Martin Tither spent his more from this section summer holidays in Aberystwyth. He recalls those BBC Local My Story idyllic childhood days spent at A Week in Westminster Mid Wales the seaside - and wonders Abigail's Orang-utans Things to do Back into the big bad world... what became of some of the Bah! Humbug! People & Places town's atttractions. Beard and Booze Nature & Outdoors Belonging History Brinsley Schwarz This is one of a series of articles by Martin. There are links to Religion & Ethics Calendar Girl the others at the bottom of this page. Class of '53 Arts & Culture Don't cry for me Aberaeron Music God Bless the Cambrian News! TV & Radio "Who bought the wonderful model of the Taj Mahal carved in History Hunter ivory under a glass dome which was in the antique shop in Internet Innovators Local BBC Sites Eastgate Street for many years? The toast rack, an open- Jim's Story News Keeping Butterflies sided single-decker bus which did tours of the town? Sport Learner of the Year Led Zeppelin Weather Whatever happened to The Pride of the Midlands and The Leila's Long Walk Travel City of Birmingham, the two boats which used to load up Llanidloes Fancy Dress passengers from the slipway on the beach, when it was full- Martin's Memories Neighbouring Sites Memories from Bont North East Wales length? I remember going mackerel fishing on a grey Motherhood - My View North West Wales morning from The City. My West Side Story South East Wales Observations of a Sea-Side Town. Painting with Pammy South West Wales The beach used to be crowded in August, you had to pick Prom Days your spot and protect it from interlopers. Those crowds Related BBC Sites Retraining, Recycling Wales accounted for the apparently huge piles of deckchairs which Storm Chasing Student Life Cymru used to be minded by young men with satchels and tickets, who could fold a chair and swing it on to the heap in one Superstar DJ Canolbarth The Great Storm loud movement. The Illustrator The Warden There was a shop which sold trays of tea for the beach, The storm of 1937 paper flags of all nations for sandcastles, also windmills on Thousand Mile Walk sticks, so bright yet disappointingly fragile. Whitbread Writer Young Carer Young playwright The Council moored a raft and sometimes the hull of a speedboat 30 yards offshore for the more adventurous and Ask a Local Digital Stories foolhardy to swim out to. I recall the bandstand and Poetry someone (I want to say Jimmy Shand) and his Organoleons. Talking Points Your Stories There used to be great excitement when the old lifeboat was launched. The maroons (rockets) were fired, and were related bbc.co.uk links audible in Llanbadarn, which was the signal for the lifeboat Local History to be drawn by tractor from its shelter in Queen's Road to Aber Life the slipway. The new inflatable lifeboats doubtless have tremendous advantages with instant availability and manoeuvrability, but they lack the drama that is so attractive to youngsters.
The pier was magic to youngsters. Right at the entrance was the Roll-A-Penny stall, with the candyfloss machine close by.
This part of the pier gave the thrilling experience of being able to look down beyond your sandalled feet through the slats to the rocks or sea below, depending on the tide. In rough weather, the occasional splash of water came up through the boards.
Going in, there were banks of penny-in-the-slot machines, all chrome, in which highly polished ball bearings could be made to whiz round in the hope, usually unfulfilled, that they would fall into a hole and pay out at least your stake.
Also in there was the risqué What the Butler Saw machine, hand cranked, as fast or as slow as you chose, all black and white and fuzzy and worn but exciting! Next to it, the same technology revealed a dogfight between Allied planes (Spitfires?) and the enemy, I guess during the Battle of Britain.
Further on were the automata - The Laughing Policeman, rosy cheeks, rolling eyes and sound effects and, particularly scary, The Haunted Graveyard, with its slowly opening vault lids revealing a skeleton rising from its coffin, and all the while a tramp sat nearby, drinking from a bottle.
Also on the pier was the Gipsy Fortune Teller who, with rolling eyes, a quill pen and laboured writing, would produce a card with your future outlined on it. This too was a 1d in the slot machine.
In the shelter on the front (redolent of Pacamacs) was a red machine which could be persuaded, for a small fee and much laboured spelling out, to produce a metal label with your name, or whatever you chose, embossed on it.
The harbour had few purely pleasure boats then, though I do recall a particularly pretty blue yacht called Nest which was there for several years. There were fishing boats moored along the quay, with lobster pots piled up.
The Aberystwyth tourist guide for 195_ carried one of my father's photos of me and a bearded fisherman admiring a lobster. HMS Thunderer was moored at the end of the quay by the breach, finishing its days as the training centre for the local sea cadets.
I recall catching crabs off the end of the old jetty, and the excitement of the occasional sighting of a fish, I suspect mullet. The stone jetty was too hazardous for youngsters to fish from, and was closed in storms. Family history has it that Grandpa helped build the jetty, and also erected the railings along the Prom.
Other amusements? Crazy golf, Côr-y-Castell, walking the length of the Prom, being sure to kick The Bar on the last night of the holiday to ensure a return trip.
The glamour of the dodgems in the basement of King's Hall, also the mini rifle-range down there.
Putting pennies in the mine which stood outside near the Pier, in aid of a seamens charity (there was a similar one in Aberaeron), also feeding the seagulls, which seemed huge, white, and with a particularly appraising eye. The arrival of the paddling pool near the slipway, later the trampolines, against the edges of which less agile youngsters could bruise their faces and split their lips.
I am sure I can imagine the smell of the donkeys as they plodded their way between the slipway and the pier - in fact my elder sister swears she still has the scars from being stamped on by one of them."
Written by Martin Tither who now lives in Peterborough.
This is the last in a series of four articles written by Martin Tither. You can read the other three by clicking on the links below.
The train journey to Aberystwyth. A young boy's fascination with the railways. Quiet Sundays and other signs of the times. Click here to go to our Mid Wales History section.
your comments
Shirley Oliver, Aberystwyth The City of Birmingham was owned by My father Jack Daniel, my uncle Lewis Daniel and my aunt Doreen Daniel. She was actually built in Aberystwyth by the Williams Bros boatyard. I spent many a happy summer sitting on deck next to my father as he steered the boat on 'round' the bay trips. Fri Dec 4 08:01:54 2009
Paul Daniel, Florida USA My Granfather was one of the owners of City of Brmingham AKA AB 55 I rememember him cashing a 10 shilling note many years ago with a daytripper going around the bay, The Boat went as Sherran said to Pwllheli, saw it about 20 years ago, I have seen a pic of it being built with the Duke of Edinburough in the background. Sun Mar 1 19:53:35 2009
Mr.E.Drinkwater I remember Ben White i helped on the Pride of the Midlands as a boy one summer my Aunt's Annie & Gladys Davies lived in Prospect St. and new Ben and i think every body else in Aber. Tue Apr 29 09:34:50 2008
Sherran Parry-Williams, Llangrannog, West Wales My Grandfather Lewis Daniel owned the City of Birmingham with his brother Jackie. It was sold during the 1980's due to my grandfathers ill health. The boat went to Pwllheli. As a family we often wonder if it is still there. Lewis's wife and children still live in Aberystwyth area as does Jackies' daughter but sadly both Lewis and Jackie passed away many years ago. Sat Mar 24 18:09:29 2007
GERALD YANDELL ST.NEOTS I love your stories. I might not be as old as you but I can relate to them all, seems old hapenings move on to others. I come from Aber. I get to go home somtimes. I now live in St Neots and go to Peterbotough often. I wonder what happened to the old mine that was on the sea front? Keep up the key work. I want to hear more.
Do you know what happened to the old mine? Thu Jul 27 10:12:22 2006
David Clues from Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea The Pride of the Midlands was sold to a London concern and was sailed from Aber round to the Thames by (Great Uncle) Danny Thomas (Nicholas); Ben White and Bill (?) Parry. If memory serves me correctly it took them just less than a week. It eventually hit a semi-submerged tree trunk and sank. R.I.P The Pride of the Midlands Mon Jun 19 10:45:08 2006
Ian Bentley My great uncle Lewis Daniels, my grandmother's brother, owned the City of Birmingham - one of the two boats that did the trips around the bay. He and his brother Jack ran the boat. The boat was made in Scotland and sailed to Wales. I too have strong memories of those days. The Daniels family still have roots in the town. The boat was sold on many years ago now. I was also wondering where it is now? Tue Feb 28 14:35:46 2006
This site is now closed and cannot accept new comments. 8 May 2012 Accessibility help Text only
BBC Homepage Wales Home Martin's Memories more from this section Last updated: 24 November 2005 My Story As a young boy in the 1950s, A Week in Westminster Martin Tither spent his summer Abigail's Orang-utans Back into the big bad world... holidays in Aberystwyth. He Bah! Humbug! recalls those childhood days Beard and Booze BBC Local spent at the seaside and the Belonging Mid Wales important part played by the Brinsley Schwarz Things to do Calendar Girl railways. Class of '53 People & Places Don't cry for me Aberaeron Nature & Outdoors God Bless the Cambrian News! History On this page, you can read Martin's memories of the train History Hunter Internet Innovators Religion & Ethics journey which marked the beginning of the holidays - or click on the links below for more recollections. Jim's Story Arts & Culture Keeping Butterflies Music Learner of the Year TV & Radio Led Zeppelin A young boy's fascination with the railways. Leila's Long Walk Local BBC Sites The pier, the pleasure boats and the prom. Llanidloes Fancy Dress News Quiet Sundays and other signs of the times. Martin's Memories Sport Memories from Bont Motherhood - My View Weather "My mother was Margaret (nee Clark) whose parents lived in My West Side Story Travel Padarn Terrace, Llanbadarn Fawr. Her father was Observations of a Sea-Side Town. George/Jack, originally garden boy at the big house Painting with Pammy Neighbouring Sites Prom Days North East Wales overlooking Clarach, above Llangorwen, who became a blacksmith at the top of Penparcau, Southgate now a car Retraining, Recycling North West Wales Storm Chasing showroom. Also living in the house at Llanbadarn was my South East Wales Student Life great aunt Lizzie. Superstar DJ South West Wales The Great Storm Related BBC Sites From 1952 to 1962, the family (two adults, two - later three The Illustrator Wales The Warden children plus golden retriever) travelled by train from The storm of 1937 Cymru Chesterfield. This meant changing in Birmingham from New Thousand Mile Walk Canolbarth Street to Snow Hill stations, a journey of around six hours, to Whitbread Writer pick up the Cambrian Coast Express. Young Carer Young playwright
As a child it seemed to take ages to make any real progress, Ask a Local but leaving Shrewsbury (where there was a bowl of water left Digital Stories out on the platform for travelling dogs) introduced a different Poetry Talking Points feel. Your Stories
Working our way up the Severn Valley, with its gradually related bbc.co.uk links encircling hills stitched by hedges, capped with trees, the Local History changes were perceptible. The countryside became greener, Aber Life rounder, softer. Tantalising glimpses of the river and promises of hills to come ensured an eyeful of cinders as we children craned out of the windows.
Many of the stations we rattled through then are gone now, those that remain are shadows of their former selves. And how we should be kicking ourselves for their closure, driven by the freedom that car ownership brought.
Most stations had goods traffic, with a variety of wagons awaiting collection. Getting to Moat Lane, and then working hard to get up over Talerddig and down into the Dovey (contemporary spelling) valley and Machynlleth, with its trace of the narrow gauge Corris Railway sweeping away.
Down to Dovey Junction where the train split, before the last haul over to Aber, breaking into the Rheidol Valley at Llanbadarn and down the bank, sweeping over the level crossing, handing over the tablet at the signal box and down along the flats via Plas Crug to come to a halt in the platform."
Written by Martin Tither who now lives in Peterborough.
For more of Martin's memories, click on the links below:
A young boy's fascination with the railways. The pier, the pleasure boats and the prom. Quiet Sundays and other signs of the times. Click here to go to our Mid Wales History section.
your comments
Nick Jones from Swadlincote. How nice to read Martin's memories. It is with much the same feelings of my own, of my own happy childhood of Aber. I was born of Charles and Vega Jones (nee Hewitt) of High St. Aber. in Leicester in 1962. Christened in Penparcau the same year. With nearly all of my holidays spent in Aber. until the age of 13, when my beloved grandmother Ethel Jones of High St. sadly passed away. What character and charm Aber. has. I remember the walk up to Plas Crug down Smithfield and cutting through the allotments and over the railway lines to visit the cemetery to tend the grave of my Grandfather Stan! Jones of High St. Quite a well known character of the town i was told. (What on earth would health and safety made of that footpath over the railway line's ?) but what a vantage point for a young lad with the main and narrow railway gauge lines underfoot. My memories in brief:- the Maroons to call the life boat out, the Air raid siren to scramble the fire brigade, the Navy ships visiting the Bay with the rush down through the old grave yard of St. Michaels with the earie grave tombs and cast iron railings to see the visitng ships, the old life boat slip the castle the gap and the harbour, i could go on and on. Oh Aber. what a place for ever in my heart. Wed Apr 8 09:55:45 2009
Steve Smith from Hersham ex Aberystwyth All married couples leaving Aberystwyth by train got long whistles sounded for at least five minutes as the locomotive worked up the bank. Reminding my new father-in-law of this tradition, he went up to the cab and we were treated to a two-tone warble all the way to Ynyslas!A big SW (Sound Whistle) to the driver that day (Up Evening Mail 20.9.75). The guard came to find us and took us from Second to First Class. Maybe we got these 'extras' because my wife's Grandfather had been a well-known engine driver, until his death in the early 1960s.We thanked the driver at Shrewsbury (where we changed trains). He was a giant with a broad smile. Does anyone have a record of the loco number? 240XX it was. Call me sentimental... Tue Oct 9 09:19:08 2007
Ian Brodigan, Norfolk Used to travel down to aber regularly with parents from banbury by train in the late sixties to mid seventies to visit family in aber and borth later journeys by car which meant missing out on the chicken and stuffing rolls at shrewsbury station.Wasted many a bob or two down the kings hall arcade, and in those days aber had 4 cinemas on the same road the colliseum on its own and then 3 together further down the same road one of which was called the celtic, played many a game round the castle and fed the goldfish in the raised pond there played on the golf putting green many times,and always got a toy from the shop on the street leading down to the pier, and the penguin bar always did the best milkshakes anywhere,and as my father started as train driver at aber i rode the footplate on the train to devils bridge,(to the end of the platform anyway)more than once happy memories. Tue Nov 21 09:33:27 2006
Christine Jones Llangollen I remember Ken and Jean Hankey well. I had my wedding reception at Highbury, they were friends of my parents, The last time I saw him was at my mother's funeral. I went to a little school near the station for a while, subdivided into Welsh and English children and it had a huge rocking horse. Then to the National school, and then to the Convent in Llanbadarn Road before leaving for London. Mon Oct 2 14:46:42 2006
David Hankey from Great Easton, Lancashire I recall the days in the '50s and '60s with great fondness when my parents, brothers and I would travel by steam from Leicester to Aber every summer for our annual holidays. Halycon days. We would travel to Birmingham and await the arrival of the "Cambrian Coast Express" from Paddington enroute to Cardigan Bay. My grandparents ran the "Highbury Hotel" situated on Marine Terrace a business which eventually was handed onto my aunt and uncle, Ken & Jean Hankey. Ken worked for many years at the Cambrian News. My grandparents retired to Queens Avenue in Aberystwyth and resided their until their deaths in 1980s. We spent many happy hours at Borth and Ynyslas Sands, Devils Bridge on the narrow gauge railway. We would hike up Constitution Hill and take bracing walks along the prom to the harbour, past the Castle and generally get invigorated by the fresh sea air. I hope one day to return and relive some of these treasured memories although I know Aber has changed like every other place. Tue Mar 22 17:32:01 2005
This site is now closed and cannot accept new comments.