A bygone era

This morning I decided to cycle up the Rhymney valley to Gelligaer, the once mining village where I spent the first 18 years of my life. It has changed greatly in the last 50 years but there remain ghosts of my past that haunt me on my rare visits. The once thriving coal pit, where most of my friends’ fathers worked, closed at least 40 years ago and most of the site has been built over with new houses but some of the pit head has been retained including the winding mechanism. The once coal slag heap which scarred the landscape and towered over the village has been levelled and turned into attractive parkland. First extra is the medieval village church where my parents were married and the other rather unattractive tattoo parlour (Twisted Ink) used to be the Post Office and General Store that my parents ran. Incidentally, I was a home delivery and born in the flat above the Post Office. From what my mother tells me, it was a long delivery and thus was late even for “second class”.