Where I Go in My Dreams (Part 23)

In which The Author finds a place to revisit and one to avoid

I had a strange semi-lucid dream this morning, possibly fuelled by the painkillers I had to take in the early hours. (My shoulder is playing up again.) It was probably inspired in part by the many walks I've taken around the Cynon Valley in the last year and a half. I've been narrowing down possible routes for this year's sponsored walk in aid of Anthony Nolan, and also the cycling event I've outlined a couple of times.

It might also have something to do with this street in Merthyr Vale – currently scheduled for demolition, I've been told – which I stumbled upon at the end of April, while exploring the Trevithick Trail north from Abercynon.

To begin with I was on the 'old road' between Penrhiwceiber and Abercynon. That doesn't sound especially interesting, as it's pretty much one long stretch of ribbon development with side streets branching off now and again. But in my dream I'd somehow found my way to a back lane, separated from the main road by a steep bank and a dry stone wall. Thinking it might be an interesting diversion for the cyclists, I decided to explore it.

I went down a gentle slope for a few minutes, with no vehicle tracks or sign of recent activity. I was half-expecting it to end at a farm gate (I've been caught out like that a few times), but instead I arrived at what appeared to be a short row of abandoned cottages. I decided to stop and take a few photos before retracing my steps.

The outsides of the houses were pretty dilapidated, and the small front gardens were full of weeds and junk – broken kids' toys, bits of old cars, discarded furniture and domestic appliances, bags of rubbish that had split and spilled everywhere. It looked as though whoever had lived there had left in a hurry. The whole place was extremely eerie, and (even though I was dreaming) I was thinking about the terrifying episode of Torchwood called 'Countrycide' the whole time.

I was making my way around to the back of the row when I realised that the houses weren't abandoned at all. There was at least one very large family still in residence. Suddenly a whole gang of youngsters, scruffily dressed and unkempt, had appeared from nowhere. They were sitting on the low back wall or scattered around the broken furniture. A minute later they were joined by a small group of adults ranging from their late teens to (probably) mid-sixties. They seemed to be descended from travelling folk (or were possibly just squatting), as the kids and teenagers had obviously never seen the inside of a classroom, and I'm not sure the adults had either.

I explained that I'd managed to get lost while exploring the path, and apologised for invading their space. They weren't aggressive by any means, but I felt very intimidated the whole time. One of the men, who seemed to be the least frightening of the whole tribe, pointed to a gap between two of the cottages. He told me that if I followed this narrow, overgrown path for its length, it would take me back to the main road. I thanked him, apologised again, and made my excuses and left. Very quickly. When I saw a bus drive past the end of the path, I was extremely relieved to know I was almost back in civilisation again.

The second part of the dream took me along another path off the 'old road' – although how I got there is still a mystery. It was a very steep gravel slope, which you'd need a mountain bike or a 4×4 to negotiate if you weren't on foot. I followed it downhill for a while, came to a stile near a gate in a dry stone wall, and found another path branching off to the right. I had a feeling I knew where the right-hand branch would take me, so I crossed the stile and headed across a field full of sheep. Another stile led me to another steep downhill path, just compacted earth and bits of stone here and there. Further down I could see two large houses, so I decided to check them out.

This was a completely different story. The owners of one of the houses were in the front garden, which was well tended and welcoming. They were older than me, and were probably ageing hippies who'd bought this isolated spot as a retirement retreat. They could see I'd been walking for a while, and asked me if I'd like a glass of water. Their house was a warren of small rooms at odd angles to one another, decorated in a variety of bright clashing colours, and crammed full of books, records and interesting nick-nacks, rather like the home of two old friends in Aberdare. We chatted for a while until (in the words of Damon Albarn) I was rudely awakened by the dustman.

In real life, that is.

As with the strange village of Sychbant, which I visited in a dream nearly nine years ago, I'd love to revisit my new friends and their semirural hideaway in the South Wales Valleys. It could be time to heed the old advice and Keep Taking the Tablets.

Where I Go in My Dreams (part 22)

In which The Author is nocturnally trainspotting

For once, these recurring dream locations have a basis in reality. It's very unusual for me to dream about Trecynon, despite the fact that I lived there until I was eighteen, and have lived there for the last twenty years. However, just because I'm dreaming about Trecynon, that doesn't mean my dreams are anything like the real world.

The railway line between Aberdare and Hirwaun hasn't seen a passenger train since June 1964. There were, until fairly recently, freight services from the coal washery close to Tower Colliery. Tower (near the railhead), the Phurnacite plant, and the pits further south were the reason the line wasn't torn up when passenger services ended. Our valley, in common with others, could have gone into the current millennium with only shitty bus services to get people to Pontypridd and Cardiff.

I was walking home after a late Saturday night in Aberdare about thirty years ago when I chanced upon an odd train at the level crossing at the northern end of Robertstown. Topped and tailed by a Class 20 locomotive, it consisted of a couple of tanker-style wagons and what seemed to be a converted passenger carriage. Intrigued, I bought a copy of Rail magazine a couple of days later, to help me solve the mystery. It was one of a pair, which used to travel the length and breadth of the network spraying weedkiller on the tracks and into the undergrowth on either side.

Now there's no traffic on the line at all. I won't hold my breath for the reintroduction of passenger services when the South Wales Metro finally sees the light of day.

But in my dreams it's a different story entirely.

On several occasions I've dreamed of unexplained freight services – often only one or two wagons, with small diesel locos on motive power duty – which make their way from the level crossing and past the cables factory (Prysmain) at a fair speed. I'm usually in a good position to see them shoot past; I tend to be standing on the edge of the waste ground where Prospect Place used to be, tucked away at the end of Gadlys Uchaf. They always seem to be heading away from Aberdare, but no matter how long I stay there I never see anything come the other way.

The other old railway line which features in some recurring dreams vanished long before I was born. There used to be a complex layout of lines in the Cwm and the Dare Valley (the present-day Dare Valley Country Park). After crossing the river Dare on a viaduct, the stone pillars of which are still extant, one branch ran along the western edge of Aberdare Park. It's now a footpath running from Landare, outside the park railings, to the west end of Park Lane. It continued behind Cemetery Road – more or less through the present Cledwyn Gardens – before crossing Hirwaun Road near Station Place. There's a remnant of the level crossing gates near the main entrance to Aberdare Cemetery. This branch line joined the main line at Gelli Tarw Junction, near Penywaun. It's still possible to walk along the old trackbed as far as the A4059 just below Dawkins Place, but it's not a great short cut in wet weather.

Anyway, in my dreams this branch line is still in use, but not by steam trains. A few times I've dreamed of being in Aberdare Park and seeing a Class 37 diesel locomotive in the old blue livery making its way south behind the railways. I'm never sure what it's transporting, as the wagons are hidden behind the shrubs which line the perimeter of the park. But when it gets to the top of Glan Road, it somehow veers left and continues along the street. Once I tried following it, and it headed down Tudor Terrace towards the real railway line.

I haven't had this second dream for a while, but the mysterious freight services on the Hirwaun line still pop up now and then.

Where I Go in My Dreams (Part 21)

In which The Author continues where he left off

(No, don't worry – you haven't missed a bit. The rest of the recurring and/or bizarre dreams which make up this occasional series can be found in my old Wordpress blog.)

Anyway, this is a place which has turned up several times, but which I'd forgotten about until this morning's rather strange sequence of dreams. In common with several places I dream about fairly regularly, this pub doesn't exist in the real Aberdare (and never has, as far as I can tell). However, it definitely should, to judge from the way my subconscious mind paints it.

It's on the northern bank of the River Cynon, some distance upstream from Llwydcoed, but a fairly easy walk from the village itself along a pleasant country lane. In fact, you could probably get there from Gelli Isaf, if you crossed the stone tramroad bridge north of the little row of cottages and followed the track from there.

It's a big old building, divided into several large rooms, and probably has substantial living quarters above the public area. It has a well-equipped function room, although I've never been there when anything is going on, a decent-sized restaurant, and a cosy bar with a good crowd of customers every time I call in. There's also a large beer garden overlooking the river, which must be great in the summer, as it would get the sun all day and late into the evening.

I've no idea what the pub is called, but the main reason I go there in my dreams is because (unlike some many pubs in Aberdare) it actually has decent WiFi provision. Go figure …