TREORCHY

Llandaff to Treorchy, £2.90 with a seniors railcard. It's a clear fine day but the hills still have the browns of winter on them. The grass not yet believing it early enough to come through on the mountainside. The sky is streaked with aeroplane vapour trails -  all US bound. It must be mid-morning as early in the morning they all follow each other the opposite way bringing red eyed travellers from the states. Along the main road and into the Cardiff Arms Cafe. They have a modern coffee machine but their coffee 'menu' is a careful negotiation between the old and the fashionable.  I order a mug of what used to be called milky but is now identified as cappuccino, so the man asked me “Should I put chocolate on it?”  “Na, that's OK.”

I check my phone to see if I have a Wi-Fi signal. It tells me there is a locked account called SanSiro. There must be an Inter Milan supporter here.

As I walk back I see in a shop window a poster advertising a play called ‘Tonto Evans’, an “ex-miner, country and western fanatic, given to dressing up as a Native American … he dreams of visiting the Wild West”. Another poster informs us about a talk to be given by a Professor of History called “My Rhondda.” I ponder on the juxtaposition, whilst thinking about cowboys.

Waiting for a bus to Ponty I stand opposite a funeral directors in a wool shop. I could really fancy a knitted coffin but it would have to have a fairisle pattern that my mother used to put on short sleeved jumpers.