Coastal Gwent, a new Bristol suburb?

Another day of sunshine and interesting clouds. Good conditions for driving to Bristol to see Owain, but we couldn't get away until noon as Clare's back medication injection packs were going to arrive by courier at some time in the morning, and needs immediate refrigeration. While we waited, I did my share of the weekly housework, then emailed next Sunday's readings to their destined recipients, and made a few changes to next weekend's Sway. 

I listen to every news bulletin, and look at my news feed often during the day for changes in the situation in Palestine. It's the feast of Saint James of Jerusalem today, so I decided to look for a photo of the Orthodox Cathedral Church of Saint James in Jerusalem, just outside the precinct of the Church of the Resurrection in the Holy City, from my collection of over a hundred photos taken there in 1998 and 2000. I don't have them on-line any more but archived and searched through four different hard drives in order to find the folder containing the photos I digitized them back in November 2008, not long after I bought the film digitizer, I think. 

Reviewing them made me realise how poor quality many of them are compared to what's possible to produce nowadays. I took an Olympus Trip 35mm film camera with me on both visits to the Holy Land, and digitized the negatives eight years later. It's a good little camera for point and shoot pictures, but my ten year old Olympus MFT camera produces far superior photos. The range of subjects photographed is also disappointing. A roll of 36 frames obliges you to choose carefully what picture you want, but when you're free to take scores of pictures there's no need to be choosy. Failed photos with a film camera are costly, unlike a digital camera. I prefer to take stills rather than video, as there's a momentary element of choice and attentiveness involved. Video shooting involves a lot more attention to do well, or else spend a lot of time editing out the poor parts.

We arrived at Owain's just after one, and then went out to lunch in a small eaterie not far from Stapleton Road railway station. His apartment is looking good now with the walls decorated and new carpets and flooring looking good. Shelves containing his huge vinyl record collection are installed and full, also his record decks and home computer workstation. The bedroom and kitchen are neatly organised, but he's lacking a sofa bed and dining table. He's making a home he can truly call his own for the first time, and that's a blessing for us as well as him.

We started for home as the rush hour started. The M32 and M4 were quite busy as we left Bristol, but not running slowly. It wasn't until we'd passed over the Severn crossing that traffic began to slow right down in all three lanes. I thought there must have been an accident or road works somewhere in this stretch of motorway, but there weren't. Once we were past the Magor junction the pace quickened to 50mph and stayed like that right through Newport, without further slowing down. That was unusual, as the Newport section often suffers from congestion. It took us an hour and a half to get home, twice as long as the outbound journey.

When I reflected on it, we've experienced that particular stretch of traffic congestion on other occasions recently. It's something to do with the significant increase in cars leaving the M4 at the Magor junction,. It wasn't designed to accommodate such a high volume of traffic fifty years ago. What's changed is the growth of new housing estates along the coastal strip from Chepstow to Newport. There's a big increase in commuter traffic to and from Bristol as house prices plus semi-rural lifestyle in Gwent make it worth the effort, now that hybrid working between home and office has become acceptable.

Clare made a quick snack for her supper when we got back and then went in search of a Plygain group sing-song in the Butchers Arms on Llandaff Road. Half an hour later she returned, disappointed, as the info she'd found on the internet related to an event that no longer happens there. I went out for a walk. First to Tesco's to buy her some flowers and a bottle of Chilean Pinot Noir for me, then my usual circuit of Llandaff Fields in the dark, with half a moon showing through the clouds. Earlier when we left for Bristol, I noticed a lovely colour change in the trees in the park, viewed across the road junction. A few days ago they were still green, speckled with small patches of yellow and brown leaves. After days of rain and colder wind, green trees look like they've been brushed with a light topping of golden colour. I look forward to getting some pictures of this scenic effect tomorrow, unless it changes again overnight! 

News tonight of another day of 20 aid lorries allowed through the Rafah crossing after clearance of content for weapons. Also two elderly female hostages released by Hamas, whose spokesmen says they have been retrieved from captivity by other military factions which joined in the murderous assault on Israel, and did their own thing. If this is so, it's another own goal for Hamas as it reveals opposition to Israel isn't united or disciplined, even if it is deadly and cruel.

Nothing worth watching on telly after my late walk. I had more changes to make on Sway. Then it was bed time. Rain returned 

Traffic impact

This morning we both had early appointments at the University Optometrists in Cathays for our annual eye tests. We decided to drive the shortest route through the city centre, as I thought that Castle Street had been re-opened to all two way traffic, but discovered that it's restricted to buses and taxis. It's no wonder there's s little traffic along there. We had to divert down Westgate Street and through Callaghan Square and Churchill Way to reach Park Place. Instead of taking five minutes, by the shortest route it took us twenty five minutes, and we were late. This road closure adds twenty minutes to the journey from Pontcanna to Cathays. It would have been the same if we'd driven to our destination by way of Western Avenue and North Road. It's sheer stupidity. Quite apart from time wasted, this added twenty minutes of extra fossil fuel consumption adds to our carbon footprint. Next time, we'll walk for forty minutes across the parks to Cathays instead.

Ceri, the optometrist who examined me, couldn't complete the planned examination of the interior of my eyes, as my cataracts are now too advanced to permit a clear enough diagnostic photograph. Unfortunately apart from this my vision hasn't deteriorated much at all. I don't even need to have new glasses. The triage of people in need of cataract removal operations won't rate me as a priority. If I were to get on the waiting list with Ceri's special pleading, after a more sophisticated eye scan at the beginning of June, I'd still be at the bottom of a ninety week list of patients in need of the operation. I could pay to have it done privately, but if I did, that would be money we didn't have available if either of us urgently needed a new knee or hip replacement. It's what happens if you don't have a big pension pot. At least I can still see to read, drive and take photos. although in certain light conditions this is getting quite difficult.

When we got back I cooked an early lunch for us, then headed off to Thornhill to take a funeral. In her early eighties the lady whose funeral it was moved from Hull, where she'd lived her entire life, to be close to her daughter and her grandson, living in Cardiff. She settled down and made friends here, and attended church in Llanishen. Her daughter brought along three Palm Crosses and planted them in the wreath of yellow roses on her mother's coffin. A small but touching tribute to a woman whose faith mattered to her.

I drove home through slow moving traffic that builds up every afternoon when schools finish. The road above Llandaff Fields is always congested around this time because parents come to Howells School to collect their children, many turning right, crossing the traffic stream to enter the school grounds. This is a busy north south-road for much of the day. It's destined to get as new housing areas being built on the edge of Cardiff are occupied without additional roads to support an increase of commuter traffic into the city. 

Over decades, no effort has been made to resolve this particular persistent term time obstacle to the flow of traffic, adding more pollution and increasing the city's carbon footprint. I dread to think what it's going to be like in five years time, whether or not we see a real increase in numbers of electric cars. A year of covid lock-downs and home schooling emptied the roads of traffic, making it quite pleasant to live around here ad interim. The 'new normal' looks a lot like the old normal to me at the moment. Congestion from cleaner cars is still congestion, time wasted getting from A to B because public transport and roads still fall short of what the city needs to thrive.

I walked over to the Aldi store on Western Avenue when I got home, to buy some interesting reasonably priced wine. The route from the University Campus in Cathays to halls of residence in Gabalfa has, over the past year, been upgraded. There's now a two metre pedestrian pavement and a three meter cycle path side by side running for a couple of kilometres. It could do with being better lit, but gives the impression of being safer and more modern an environment for students to walk or cycle back and forth to classes. 

On the way there I met Gareth from church who, seeing my camera, said the Blackweir heron wasn't around, but when crossed the bridge, I spotted the bird in the position it has taken up for the past three days, at the little waterfall next to the fish ladder. I was thrilled with the photos I got, thanks to my new Olympus telephoto lens. This one one of my favourites.

After supper, with nothing better to do I watched a couple of episodes of 'Non Uccidere'. Step by step the dramatic back story of the chief detective around whom the series is constructed, is revealed. It's all taking too long really, even if the murder cases in each episode cast a rather dark light on northern Italian society.

No change but a change of air

During the night I was conscious of the arrival of high winds, not just from the noise outside, but from a perceptible change of air. That sounds odd, but the coastal plain Cardiff inhabits suffers from polluted air when weeks pass without a breeze. It's got worse in recent years with increased traffic congestion. There are times when I'm returning home from a walk in the park, that there's a noticeable difference between the air out in Llandaff or Pontcanna Fields, and the air along Penhill Road, the penultimate leg, which reeks of diesel fumes from standing traffic. 

Cardiff Council's published pollution maps confirm from monitoring data what a healthy sense of smell detects. We're two hundred yards from Penhill Road and our street is very quiet. The scent of pollution isn't so obvious at home from day to day, but when a strong wind blows, the difference quite marked. I wish we lived in the country or near the sea, though I can't see us moving house again. We just need to get out and away more often, to take the air.

I went to St John's to celebrate the midweek Eucharist this morning but Fr Chris Lee turned up to take the service as well,due to a double booking error. I felt glad to sit with the congregation and worship. The only other times I've been able to do that for a long time have been on a couple of weekend trips to Kenilworth to look after Rhiannon. It's so good to be on the receiving end and be ministered to, and it was lovely to chat with Chris after the service.

Following a brief trip to the bank and to shops I returned home for lunch, and then went out on foot to make a bereavement visit at the west end of Canton Parish. As I wasn't sure of my street destination, I checked on Google Maps, which set me the quickest walking route. This proved misleading when, two third of the way through the journey, I was led into a side street, to get to the main road by a shortcut, whose only exit was closed off with a 'residents only access' security gate. One hears of this happening with sat-nav car directions leading to dead ends on country lanes, but don't expect it in a heavily built up area on a walking route! Anyway, it only delayed me by a few minutes, and then an hour later I was on my way home again.

Kath and Rhiannon had arrived by the time I returned. Kath returns tomorrow as she and Anto work this weekend. Rhiannon will end her half term and 13th birthday week with us. The Clare and I will drive with her back to Kenilworth on Sunday. I'll stay for a couple of nights, and Clare for the week to look after Rhiannon, as Kath and Anto have another busy week of Wriggledance touring gigs in parts of the country where next week is half term, not this one. Such is the life of an artistic family. We're just glad to be able to support them, and have time together with them in between engagements.

After tea we went for a walk down to the river Taff. Rhiannon walked arm in arm with me and told me all about her birthday pizza party the night before. It was heartwarming, despite the powerful chilling effect from the strong north wind sweeping through the region. The evening highlight of was watching 'Death in the Caribbean' on the telly, a rather old fashioned detective story reminiscent of another era. And despite our various efforts, none of us guessed who the murderer was.

No news of the election of a Bishop this evening from Llandaff Cathedral. The electoral college was unable to come to a consensus, nor to a 2/3rds majority vote. Nobody knows why, as participants are bound by an oath of confidentiality. Those outside, anxious for a result to gossip about, fantasise and joke instead in Facebook postings. If we have to choose a new father-in-God, this is I suppose as good if not better than any other ways. Public electoral campaigns are to my mind anathema. Discernment has been entrusted to trustworthy electors, themselves elected to office. When discernment fails everyone is bound to worry somewhat. If the electoral college fails, the Bishops meet and appoint someone. How long we have to wait for this to happen has not yet been announced, as far as I know. Let's hope it happens soon. 

   

Walk in the dark

Another quiet uneventful morning, and with nothing better to do I stewed some vegetables with butter beans and a Welsh made chorizo sausage, ready for supper. Then when Clare returned from her study group, she cooked a deliciously tasty soup, using a delicata squash from last week's organic veg box, plus one red onion. The squash resembles a small marrow but it has a special flavour of its own. This was the first time we'd come across it, and hopefully, not the last. 

Mid-afternoon, I walked into town just for exercise, in defiance of the chilly weather that makes me want to hibernate. The sun was low in the sky and all the Christmas lights were already on, giving me an opportunity to take a photo tour of the city centre to record them. It'll be interesting to compare these with previous batches of photos taken in the streets at this time of year, to see how things have changed.

I walked back along the Taff Trail, on the west bank, as the Bute Park side shuts before sunset. As it's unlit this was less than easy with a steady flow of bicycling commuters in both directions leaving me feeling a little vulnerable in the dark. Thankfully most cyclists these days go for bright LED lights, on their helmets or on handlebars, making it easier to spot pedestrians, though not all. I wasn't forced off the path at any stage, but obliged to walk right on the edge, just in case. I could have walked on well lit pavements by two different routes, but slow moving rush hour road traffic pollution makes for another kind of hazard to be avoided. Traffic congestion seems to have got much worse over the past couple of years. Much as I like giving where we do in Pontcanna, I honestly wish we lived a little way out in the country, but we're unlikely to move again, now we're so settled.