A café in the Empty Quarter
Powys is the largest county in Cymru, with an area of 2000 square miles, but a population of only 133,200. A quarter of the nation's area, but only 4.4% of its population. No wonder that Mike Parker and others call it the "Empty Quarter" or the "Green Desert".
I've often stayed in small towns in Powys, and now increasingly transit the county between Cymru's north and south extremities, along that arterial road the A470, much celebrated in poetry and song. Through Powys it follows sweeping curves through long deep valleys surrounded by heather clad or forested mountain slopes. Often a large rounded bulk is crossed by an enticing ridge, which I have yet to explore as I'm usually passing through.
There are no dual carriageways on this section. I always pull over for those who feel "entitled" to race through Cymru in ridiculously fast "supercars" (or ridiculously large "paramilitary" SUVs), later smiling with justifiable schadenfreude when they get stuck behind a queue of tractors or horseboxes. More importantly, I pull over for working people on a tight schedule. I don't need to say which group are the most likely to acknowledge my giving way. More time to savour the views and enjoy a different detail each time, wondering about the lives of those who live, now or long ago, in a remote farmhouse high on a hill.
Old Powys included the county of Sir Drefaldwyn (Montgomeryshire). Here, in the valley of the Afon Carno, the road goes through the three "C villages" of Carno, Clatter and Caersws. Carno is derived from "carneddau"(stones or cairns, numerous in the area), and maybe known best as home to the Laura Ashley factory and HQ for many years. "Murry the Humph" (Morris Llewellyn Humphreys), Al Capone's deputy, had been born in Carno in the 1890s.
Clatter may be named after an old wooden bridge across the river, or an old ford in the village, but details are hard to find. Caersws, where the Afon Carno joins the Hafren (Severn), was, according to tradition, the old fort of Roman Queen Swys, of whom little if anything, is known.
Despite the supposed "emptiness" there are many convenient stops and watering holes along the way. One café in particular has caught my imagination. Set in a large gravel car park alongside the A470, near the confluence of the Carno and Hafren, it is an immaculate wooden building with indoor seating and sheltered outdoor tables. Brightly coloured flowers in large planters adorn the front, and frame the hills beyond. Incongruously for such a rural location, a "crazy golf" installation adjoins the car park. It reminds me of those roadside diners on the American plains that I have only ever visited in my imagination.
There is a warm welcome, a varied menu, and a diverse clientele that includes local people, delivery drivers, tradespeople, tourists, commuters, bikers and families out to play crazy golf. Overhearing parts of conversations, the venue is more than a café. It seems to function as an informal communication hub, a meeting point for friends and rural communities close to the centre of Cymru. I imagine the tales that could be told of, and by the people passing through. They share family events, news of village shows (of which there are many), tractor runs and competitions, all in a refreshing sense of a local economy, lost elsewhere through globalisation and corporatism.
Laced maybe with a small measure of wishful thinking, I have noticed, post-pandemic, many small locally-run venues such as this café springing up across Cymru. Many are bastions of Cymraeg ensuring a strong local following. One such, nearer to home, offers an idyllic rural deli and takeaway, with pizzas and local ales sold through a barn door. Others offer provisions from small roadside sheds with honesty-boxes, or self service dairy products. I imagine how this way of life might echo the best aspects of a pre-industrial economy.
When in 1985 I left my job in a small hospital in the Isle of Wight, my then boss (herself from rural borderlands) advised me to "stay small" to be at my most comfortable. She referred my workplace, but might as well have meant a place to live too. I recall her words when visiting these bucolic villages.
Cole Porter should have written "I love Powys in the springtime … and every moment of the year".
https://www.mikeparker.org.uk/realpowys.html
https://nation.cymru/culture/a470-bilingual-poetry-anthology-celebrates-wales-most-famous-road/
https://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/wales-news/tourism-chiefs-aim-make-a470-1934939.amp
https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-wales-49180014.amp
https://www.heritagehub4midwales.co.uk/laura-ashley-cultural-heritage
Comments
Post a Comment
I look forward to your comments. Also it would be nice to know where you are in the world. Thanks for reading.