All Blacks v Wales

We both had Friday, 22 Nov off work and took our time driving to South Wales, Glamorgan.  It was the first time we had crossed the Mouth of the Severn - there are two massive bridges from which to chose to cross.  We did the Severn Bridge on the way over, paying £4.50 at the toll gate.  We stopped off in Chepstow for a little look around and cup of coffee.  After months of searching over the past year, we unexpectedly found a deep cup muffin tray in a pokey sized shop in Tin Pan Alley, much to our excitement. (Reminders of home...)

 

 

 

Pete had booked us into Crossways House just out of Cowbridge and we had to find this in the dark - coz it gets dark at 4 pm these days.  Finally found it down a narrow lane no better than a farm track but in actual fact, it is a designated road.  The lane was a series of muddy puddles since it has rained constantly for over a month but the house, when we found it, was terribly impressive.  John greeted us like long lost friends, showed us to our luxurious room, got our breakfast selection and time that we'd like to eat, then recommended various restaurants in Cowbridge  in which we might dine.   The name isn't very inspiring but the small township of Cowbridge is so picturesque, even in the rain.  Added to it's normal charm was the colourful display of Christmas lights adorning the main street; all the shops were open late for Friday night and being the start of their Christmas season, most were offering a free glass of wine while shoppers browsed.  Out on the street, shoppers could have a cup of mulled wine for a £2 donation to a children's charity. Our kind of place - wish you had been there too!

 

Late that night, back at the manor house, we were just about off to sleep when the other 2 couples booked into the remaining rooms arrived from London.  Both NZ couples.  Next morning we were first down to breakfast where we met Mandy, our hostess and chef. After breakfast, I asked about the house and she was most forthcoming with facts and stories surrounding its 400 year history, showing how convincingly the house has captivated her (John is the principal renovator).  She drew a map of how to get to a car park in Cardiff not far from the Millennium Stadium and without that we would have no doubt driven around for hours looking for a suitable place to park.  We had 2-3 hours to kill before taking our seats in the grandstand allowing plenty of time for a wander around the Cardiff shopping centre.  We could not get over the vast numbers of kiwis dressed in black rugby jerseys thronging the streets.  We ventured into a pub called the O'Neils Bar to have a pre-match drink and take in the excitement.  Like every other bar in Cardiff, it was packed with people in red or black jerseys; the blacks had silver ferns painted on their faces and the reds had dragons on theirs .  As we made our way to Gate 6 around 1 pm, locals stopped to ask us how we were enjoying their city and to wish us luck in the game.  The hospitality was faultless.

 

The atmosphere within the stadium was as electrifying as hoped for.  To be honest, I didn't take in the game as much as one does when watching it on the telly, complete with commentary and replays.  There was just so much else going on as well as the game.  We were 14 rows back from the side-line, on the try-line, and with my small pair of binoculars I had very good close up views of the play and the sexy masculine bodies fighting it out on the field.  It came as no surprise to the Welsh that the All Blacks won although they had reason to hope in the first half that they might break the drought of no victories since 1952 (I think). We estimated that of the 100,000 strong crowd, approximately 20,000 were kiwis.  Therefore, when 80,000 Welsh supporters sang their hauntingly beautiful traditional anthems as one, it made me feel quite defenceless against their composed but united force.  

 

Cardiff was swamped after the game so after walking around in search of a reasonably sane place to go over our recent experience with like minded people, and finding such a place didn't exist, we headed back to Cowbridge. An aperitif at the Duke of Wellington pub seemed like a good idea but there was only one small table vacant at the end of a booth where an older couple and young lady were eating.  With drinks in hand I went up to them and asked if they minded if we sat at the end of their table.  They nodded assent but after swallowing his mouthful, the silver haired gentleman said, "But you can take that bloody jersey off first".   We spent the next half hour amiably  chatting nineteen to the dozen, mostly about the game but also about our two country's relationship and their dis-relationship with England.  They didn't mind losing to the All Blacks so much but what did stick in their craw was the English having 18 successive wins at Twickenham.  After a lovely dinner at Farthings, we crossed the road to The Bear Hotel for a nightcap.  From there, we did not think we would ever get away, after the barmaid initially said she couldn't serve us (with a twinkle in her eye).  As Pete says, it was as if we were All Blacks ourselves as they fell over themselves to talk and invite us to meet all their friends ("Come and meet the gang, they're just in the other bar").  It was so touching and so special.

 

All in all, our visit to South Wales has been one of the highlights throughout the past 2 years, primarily due to the warmth of the people. And it was least expected even though my brother Peter said they nearly killed him with kindness when he went to live up one of the valley's to work and play rugby some 11 years ago.