Brilliant article. Simply brilliant.
Whenever we drove from our home in Glamorgan, just along the river from Iolo Morganwg’s cottage, to West Wales, my father would remark on the change at the Afon Llwchwr (in English, the river Loughour).
He was quite right: as you go west over the motorway bridge, with the railway bridge over the estuary to your left, something changes in the air. The Chinese might say that the qi is different; we Druids, that the nwyfre has a different property. The Llwchr – for all that the Gwendraeth and Tawe and Amman valleys to the east, still speak Welsh – feels like the true transition, the boundary, between Anglo Wales and Y Fro Gymraeg, “Welsh Wales”. It’s the boundary between the Anglicised, globalised, post-industrial coalfields and the land where traditional Welsh culture still endures; the territories where the land is considered for what can be extracted, and the…
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