Mam and lamb on Mynydd Emroch
This isn't what most people first think of when they think of Port Talbot. Over centuries our town has become synonymous with industry and I wouldn't be surprised if the majority of people who by-pass us on the M4 don't even glance at our mountains and wonder, if only for a moment, what other faces the town has.
I've been researching and writing Real Port Talbot (due from Seren Books in November 2013) for over a year now and despite being born and brought up here, on Sandfields Estate, the town has continued to surprise me with each walk I take, each new person I speak to, each insightful book I read written and compiled by local historians and by ordinary people with an extraordinary passion for their home.
Some of the surprises are of an historical nature, some are aesthetic: a rush of deer across my path on Mynydd Margam lifted my heart. New developments and decisions made in the name of progress have made me both happy and resentful. People, alive and lost to us, have made me smile, have astonished me and have made me feel humble.
Real Port Talbot can't contain everything about our town. So I'm delighted that some of the pieces I reluctantly have to sacrifice, for the sake of the book's established parameters, will find a home in this blog.
I'll be back in January with the first post of 2013 but in the meantime here's another face of the town that surprised me, because I'd never really thought about it before:
I've been researching and writing Real Port Talbot (due from Seren Books in November 2013) for over a year now and despite being born and brought up here, on Sandfields Estate, the town has continued to surprise me with each walk I take, each new person I speak to, each insightful book I read written and compiled by local historians and by ordinary people with an extraordinary passion for their home.
Some of the surprises are of an historical nature, some are aesthetic: a rush of deer across my path on Mynydd Margam lifted my heart. New developments and decisions made in the name of progress have made me both happy and resentful. People, alive and lost to us, have made me smile, have astonished me and have made me feel humble.
Real Port Talbot can't contain everything about our town. So I'm delighted that some of the pieces I reluctantly have to sacrifice, for the sake of the book's established parameters, will find a home in this blog.
I'll be back in January with the first post of 2013 but in the meantime here's another face of the town that surprised me, because I'd never really thought about it before:
Do we have a rugby team factory hidden underground somewhere? An extension of Max Boyce's 'The Outside Half Factory'?! Aberavon, Taibach, The Quinns, The Green Stars, The Saints. And then there's Baglan, Bryn, Cwmafan, Pontrhydyfen... and I bet I've missed somebody out too.
Hell, we're just astonishing! Oggy, oggy, oggy...
Hell, we're just astonishing! Oggy, oggy, oggy...
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