Home Town and Huw Tom Weatherman Walking

There are footpaths, tracks and trails opening up all over Wales and very soon,

sections like this one will be linked up to make the daddy of all of them, the Wales Coast Path.

815 miles of continuous seaside rambling, right around the Welsh coastline.

What are you waiting for? Let's go for a walk!

Are you ready?

Whether you're a walking veteran or a newcomer, here in Wales there's something for everyone.

You could say we're spoilt for choice and in this programme,

I've got two very different walks that will whet anybody's appetite for some fresh air and exercise.

North and south,

town and country,

inland and on the coast.

Coming up, will be one walk up North starting in Penmaenmawr

and ending in picturesque Rowen above the Conwy Valley.

Our other walk is in the deep south, beginning in my hometown of Barry

and going along the coast to finish at Rhoose Point.

This walk is a trip down memory lane for me.

This is the house in Barry where I grew up

and where I first became interested in the weather, during the long, hot summer of 1976.

But in those days, the furthest I used to walk was up the road to the chippie and back.

This is the station for Barry Docks, the start of our walk.

Conveniently, our walk ends at a station further down the line, so you can get the train back.

What could be easier?

Barry is located just eight miles south-west of Cardiff on the Glamorgan coast.

Starting from the railway station, our eight-mile walk takes us past the old docks offices,

round the end of Barry Docks and onto Barry Island.

We then follow the coast to Cold Knap, Porthkerry Park and Rhoose Point.

From there, it's a short stroll up to the station at Rhoose and a train back to the start.

This used to be my home turf, my family still live here,

but the place has changed quite a bit over the years.

Later on in my walk, I'll be meeting one or two locals

to help plug some of the gaps in my knowledge of a place

that I still call my real home.

Right next to the railway station is this striking building,

the old headquarters of the outstandingly successful Barry Docks and Railway Company,

which flourished at the beginning of the 20th century.

Built in 1898, it's now a listed building and home to the Vale Council.

Out front is a statue, a memorial to a remarkable man who put Barry on the map.

This is David Davies, holding the plans to Barry Docks, which he built in the 1880s.

Originally from Montgomeryshire, he was a remarkable man who rose from poverty

to become one of the leading entrepreneurs of the Industrial Revolution.

The Richard Branson of his day, Davies built the docks

to secure an overseas market for his Rhondda coal.

And by 1913, it was the largest coal exporting port in the world.

Today, you're lucky if you see a single ship in there.

The next bit of the walk takes us along the dock,

once crowded with ships loaded by a growing army of workers.

In just 30 years, Barry's population grew from 400 to over 40,000.

Like many old ports these days, the docks have become a development area of modern apartment blocks.

As they say, it'll be nice when it's finished!

And let's hope things continue to progress -

Barry deserves a change of fortune.

As I head off towards Barry Island, these days it's difficult

to visualise how it was once an island cut off at high tide.

Let's wind the clock back and see how I'd be swimming across today

had David Davies not filled in this land around his docks.

But they kept the name and that's why it's still called Barry Island.

And waiting for me on the island is local historian Andy Hinton,

whose mum, as it happens, used to be one of my teachers in school.

Here behind the railings is the ruined church of a saint

whom Barry is actually named after.

Tell me about St Baruc. Who was he?

St Baruc was a sixth century Welsh hermit.

He was a follower of St Cadoc.

He actually died not far out there,

between here and the island of Flatholm.

The body was washed up here on Barry Island.

Since then the place, especially during the 15th century, has become a place of pilgrimage.

Thousands of people visiting the island over a period of time.

Sort of figures they'd like to see it today, around the fairground.

-Shall we go walking?

-Certainly.

# Do you want to go to the seaside?

# I'm not trying to say that everybody wants to go... #

If you want to top-up your suntan away from the crowd,

Jackson's Bay might be the place - a hidden gem of a beach,

just around the point from the more familiar bit of Barry Island.

Whitmore Bay, I built a few sandcastles there over the years.

And just to the right, on Nells Point

there used to be a big holiday camp.

# We're all going on a summer holiday... #

This, of course, was the famous Butlins holiday camp.

Incredibly popular in the '60s and '70s,

the camp had over 800 no-frills chalets and could accommodate close to 5,000 holidaymakers.

It had all the usual Butlins activities and for a time,

it also boasted the biggest bar in Europe.

# We've seen it in the movies

# Now let's see if it's true... #

I can remember as a child going on the cable car, things like that

and the roller-skating rink, on top of the shelter on this side of the island.

-You're showing your age now.

-I know. It's terrible.

In 1986, Butlins changed hands and became the Barry Island Resort.

But times had changed. The heyday of holiday camps was over and the camp finally closed in 1996.

Permission was given to construct a housing estate on the headland,

despite local opposition and sadly,

what ended up being built isn't to everyone's liking.

The holiday camp may have gone,

but Barry Island still has a fine promenade

and a beach it can be proud of.

# Tell me tomorrow, I'll wait by the dresser for you... #

And these days, visitors also come here for another reason.

What's occurrin' 'ere then?

It's Marco's Cafe, made popular by the TV programme Gavin and Stacey.

This is where Stacey handed out the ice creams.

-Have you got your camera?

-I've got my camera.

There we are.

Gavin, Stacey and Derek.

OK, smile!

# Tell me tomorrow, I'll wait by the dresser for you... #

I knows a lush ice cream will be tidy, like,

but we've got a walk to finish.

We're now heading around to the entrance to a small harbour.

This is where the fishing boats tied up when Barry was just a village

and the Island was still an island -

at least when the tide was in.

There's the Causeway that links Barry Island to the mainland,

carrying traffic and the railway as well.

This is one of the best points where you can appreciate Barry Island as an island.

You can imagine the effect this would have had on the island, as far as visitors were concerned.

One August, 1933, they recorded 400,000 visitors to the island on one day.

You can imagine them cramming across the Causeway, then getting back home at the end of the day.

It's what the traders would've loved.

We've got to take this long way round now.

Yes, the long way round and back down the Causeway.

# In the summertime, when the weather is high

# You can stretch right up and touch the sky

# When the weather's fine

# You got women, you got women on your mind... #

When I was a kid, this flat patch of grass was the site of an iconic landmark

where people came in droves to cool down on a hot day.

I'm now standing in the deep end of the Lido.

When I was a youngster, I was too scared to swim here.

I'd be down at the shallow end.

The older teenagers would jump off the high board into the water,

but for me, it was too cold and too deep.

Today, all that's left is an outline traced by footpaths where the Lido used to be.

120 yards long and 30 yards wide,

it was one of the largest open-air pools in Britain and people flocked here.

I remember days during the school holidays when literally thousands came here.

It didn't matter how crowded it was, the more the merrier.

This was the place to be on a sunny day.

Unfortunately, the pool fell into decline in the '80s

and despite fierce opposition, with a petition of 15,000 signatures,

in 1996, the plug was pulled on the Lido.

It's ta-ra to Andy now and to Barry Town proper,

as we head out along the coast to Porthkerry Country Park,

where my guide is waiting for me for the next lap of my walk.

He may look like Eddie Jordan, but my guide isn't the Formula 1 pundit.

This is Rob Pritchard,

who's been head warden at Porthkerry Country Park for nearly 30 years.

There's not much he doesn't know about park life in Porthkerry,

or the story behind the name of these steps.

We're at the top of the Golden Stairs.

Why are they called that?

There's a couple of theories, actually.

My idea is that when the sun is setting and in the autumn

with the leaves, it gives off a lovely yellow-golden glow.

-There's another reason, is there?

-Erm...

I've been told that when the steps were made,

there was a golden sovereign put at the base of one of the steps

and it's gone down in popular myth that there is gold to be found at these steps.

Now and again, we get people coming along and having a look.

-To try and find the gold sovereign?

-That's right, yes.

# Golden brown, texture like sun... #

I should have brought my metal detector with me!

The steps lead us down to the open parkland, popular with Barry folk

for their fix of fresh air for as long as I can remember.

How long has Porthkerry Park been here?

It was bought in 1812 by Sir Samuel Romilly,

who was Master of the Rolls with the government at the time

and he bought it as a small country estate, which he used as a sort of holiday home.

And he ran the park as a working farm for over 100 years,

until he sold it to the local authority in the 1920s.

I used to come here a lot when I was a kid. I still come here for a picnic.

You've got everything -

the pitch and putt, somewhere to kick a football,

you can go for a walk in the woods and you've got the beach as well.

And there's the famous iconic structure of Porthkerry Park, the viaduct.

Tremendous structure.

Built in late Victorian times

for bringing coal to the port of Barry from Bridgend.

Nowadays, coal goes the other way, to Aberthaw power station.

I'll be catching the train back over the viaduct to Barry Docks later on.

You'll enjoy it.

-Who lives in a place like this?

-Well, nowadays it's privately owned.

But when the Romilly family came to the area,

this is the Georgian mansion that they built.

-It's actually for sale now.

-How much?

-1.5 million to you.

I'll put an offer in!

Rob is involved in a survey of the adder population in the park,

important in keeping an eye on declining numbers of this protected snake,

so they don't become a threatened species.

Lift this up gently.

-Look, there's one.

-Three.

They'll only bite you if you go to pick them up or disturb them.

You'd have to do something silly. The last fatality in Britain was in 1964.

That was probably someone who wasn't very well.

But an adder's bite is venomous and extremely painful.

So leave well alone and don't disturb them, unless you happen to have the head warden as your guide.

Leaving Porthkerry Park, we climb up through the woods

to emerge abruptly at a rounded grassy field.

It might look a bit like Teletubbie land today,

but this was the site

of an important Iron Age hill fort 2,500 years ago.

Known as the Bulwarks, it was used to defend the fertile land

from the warring tribes arriving overland from the north.

These days, people arrive here from the sky,

touching down next door at today's Cardiff International Airport.

I don't know whether you know this,

but this caravan park was used in Gavin and Stacey.

I think that caravan was where Nessa, Dave and Baby Neil stayed.

I didn't know that.

-We're approaching the end of our walk.

-Yes, nearly there.

The southern tip of Wales!

These dramatic cliffs

with their layers of deeply eroded limestone and shale

were formed millions of years ago

when Wales was submerged beneath the sea.

Rhoose Point itself is marked by a stone circle.

Here we are, Rob. We've finally reached Rhoose Point.

I can now say I've been to the most southerly tip of mainland Wales.

It's a very special place.

Thanks very much, Rob, It's been a fantastic walk.

We could go on for miles down the coast, but I've got a train to catch.

-See you again.

-All the best.

The slate slab came from a north Wales quarry.

As a swap, a chunk of Rhoose shale

was transported to the most northerly point on mainland Wales.

What a nice idea.

Doing this walk has made me realise what a special place Barry and the Vale of Glamorgan is.

I've discovered new places, been reminded of the past

and I also feel very lucky to have grown up next to the sea.

If you fancy trying one of the walks from the series,

go to bbc.co.uk/weathermanwalking

and take a look at our all-singing, all-dancing website.

It has everything you need.

From detailed route information for each walk, as well as photos we took along the way.

And walking maps for you to print off and follow.

For our next walk,

we're heading north to the old quarrying town of Penmaenmawr,

to follow in the footsteps of a great Welsh socialist.

Our walk today is a six-mile route

following in the footsteps of local quarrymen.

They made this journey twice a day to and from their place of work

in Penmaenmawr's famous Graig Lwyd quarry about 100 years ago.

These days, they call it the Huw Tom Walk.

To give me the low-down on Huw Tom and the walk named after him

is Sian Williams, my guide for the day.

Sian works as a countryside access warden and through her work,

she's been closely involved in establishing a network of fabulous walks in this area.

We might be setting off from Penmaenmawr,

but I'm meeting my guide, Sian,

at a place that suggests we're in North America

rather than north Wales.

-Nice to meet you.

-You too.

-We're going this way?

-We are, yes.

So why are these called New York Cottages?

They were built for the men that worked in the quarry,

but there was a slump in the work at one point

and a lot of the workers were going to America to look for work

and the builder was worried he wouldn't fill them.

Somebody suggested - why don't you call them New York Cottages?

Not quite the explanation I was expecting.

Just a jokey remark by a wag with an ironic sense of humour.

Penmaenmawr lies between Bangor and Conwy, on the north Wales coast.

From the New York Cottages,

our walk rises steeply to the crest of the coastal ridge

and meanders across the foothills

of Snowdonia's Carneddau Mountains towards the Conwy Valley to reach,

after six miles of walking, the charming village of Rowen.

And to get you home, there's a regular bus service via Conwy back to the start.

Before the 1830s, there were only a few farms here,

but when the quarries opened and with the coming of the railway

and tourism in Victorian times,

the population shot up from around 200 to 4,000 in just 20 years.

And perched on the hillside above the town is the old quarry clock.

It's been marking time here for the past 80 years.

And yes, it does still work.

A nice little street, Sian.

Yes. This is one of the streets where we've got housing

built for the men that worked in the quarries and their families.

We can see the quarry just behind where they worked.

This is the accommodation created for the workers,

around 1895, something like that.

The houses were also described as palaces

compared to what they lived in before.

-They're still nice to live in now.

-They are.

They're built of granite, they've got character

and we think the slate was from the Penrhyn Quarry over in Bethesda.

They're very local and characteristic.

-Shall we carry on up the hill?

-Yep, great.

A lovely view of the town from here.

Yes, it might be worth us stopping here to have a look.

Down below us, past the original Victorian resort of Penmaenmawr

one famous person that stayed here was Gladstone,

who was the prime minister of Britain during Victorian times.

-He actually came here 11 times to stay.

-11 times?!

-It must have been a good B&B!

-It definitely was!

And just up here, we have Graig Lwyd Farm,

one of the oldest houses in Penmaenmawr.

If we just turn round, I don't know if you can spot the quarry clock?

That clock was there to keep the workmen on time

and it was also a good beacon

for the boats that were coming into the jetties in Penmaenmawr,

they could see it as a landmark that they were at Penmaenmawr.

It seems to be keeping good time after all these years.

-But we're not, so we'd better crack on.

-Right, great.

Amazingly, over the years,

quarrying has reduced the height of Penmaenmawr Mountain by around 400ft

and unfortunately, consumed a prehistoric hill fort in the process.

-The path's disappeared. We're not lost, are we?

-Not at all.

We're just heading straight ahead. We'll come out by the Jubilee Path.

The view's getting even better now.

You can see right across to Anglesey.

This pillar marks the start of the Jubilee Path,

built to commemorate the 1887 Golden Jubilee of Queen Victoria.

The flat circular walk around the rounded hill of Foel Lys

was created so that the Victorians could enjoy a not too strenuous stroll with a terrific view.

This path goes right round this hill

with stunning panoramic views in almost all directions.

Yes, it really is quite a spectacular path and a resource for Penmaenmawr.

It's worth going along but we're not going that way today.

Definitely worth going.

It'll probably take an hour at the most to walk,

but we're going to head off this way today.

-This path we're on is called the Huw Tom Trail.

-Yes.

-Who's Huw?

Huw Tom worked in the quarries in Penmaenmawr

from about the age of ten onwards.

so, very humble beginnings.

But through his influence on Welsh life and politics,

he came to be known by some as the unofficial prime minister of Wales.

That's amazing that he went on to become such a prominent figure

-from such a humble background.

-Yes, it's a story worth telling.

And here, we're walking along the path he would have taken,

walking every morning and evening and in the middle,

he would have done at least an eight hour shift at the quarry.

-It goes to show anything is possible if you put your mind to it.

-Definitely.

The landscape has really changed now.

We've left the town behind and we're into open countryside.

This is Tal Y Fan, the start of the Carneddau range of mountains.

We'll be heading in that direction, towards the Conwy Valley.

Nice little bridge.

-So what's the name of this river?

-This is the Afon Gyrach.

-What does that mean?

-We're in the area called Waun Gyrach.

Waun meaning moor and then gyrach,

either it comes from the Irish word meaning a swamp,

there were Irish people in the area,

or it could come from the Welsh word "gwrach", which means witch.

I can imagine this place being really spooky when it's foggy.

Definitely, yes!

Crossing this high plateau is a bit like being on top of the world.

Having left the hubbub of life on the coastal strip behind,

it feels like you could just keep on walking.

Oh, wow! That's amazing! Just look at that!

-We can see for miles!

-Isn't it a fantastic view?

We can see the River Conwy.

-Yes, we can and then coming round this way...

-A few settlements.

Yes, and we're looking over to Llangelynin Church as well,

-which you have to walk to to get to.

-That's what we want!

-We don't want people driving, we want people walking.

-Definitely.

Just to our left, we have an example of a tyddyn, which is a smallholding.

Farmers used to live in these old buildings

and now they're in the valley where the climate is more kind.

There's definitely a bigger population down there today.

-I wouldn't mind living in there.

-The views are fantastic.

We've got Conwy Castle in the background

and looking over towards Llandudno, Colwyn Bay as well.

So when Huw Tom walked this route to work,

there would have been a close-knit community of smallholders

and their families here, but like so many of them,

he was soon to leave this life behind.

Becoming involved in the quarry's trade union

was the spark that ignited a distinguished career

as a leader of many national organisations -

a highly respected mover and shaker in Welsh life.

And this is where it all began, his birthplace of Pen y Ffrith Farm.

Can you imagine living up here, walking all the way over the hill to work,

doing a day's work and coming back again, tired,

it's pouring with rain, you're starving...

-It was a hard life.

-Yes, I think it was quite harsh.

We're looking at it today

and thinking wow, fantastic views, what a lovely place!

It definitely is that, but to work in this environment would have been quite hard.

My admiration for Huw Tom has grown with every step we've taken today.

We now head downhill and further back in time,

about 5,500 years in fact, as we pass a Neolithic burial chamber

called Maen Y Bardd, the Rock of the Bard.

It's a bit of a mystery who the poet might have been,

but as burial sites go,

it's not a bad spot for your last resting place.

The end of our walk is the pretty little village of Rowen.

Here in the village is where a memorial stone to Huw Tom has been erected.

It pays tribute to the local lad,

born in the farm overlooking the village,

not only for his achievements in public and political life,

but also for his writing.

He wrote his own autobiographies,

he wrote poetry and he also wrote articles for newspapers.

So, quite a lot really.

For the whole of his life, he was awarded a knighthood,

but in true character to him,

he was uncomfortable with that and actually declined it.

-So, as a true socialist, he did all this not for himself, but for the greater good.

-Yes.

I think it's quite a nice memorial, the wording on it suits him down to the ground.

"Huw T. Edwards, Hewn from the rock."

-So he never became Sir Huw Tom?

-No, no. Just Huw Tom Edwards.

-We've got a bus to catch back to Penmaenmawr, so let's go.

-OK, great.

# A working class hero is something to be

# If you want to be a hero, well just follow me... #

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