Welcome to Prince St, an online extension beyond the publication.
#thecwm. The Cwm (Welsh for Valley) was a place where all the kids would play for hours, days upon end. Looking for adventure and searching for the treasures amongst the river that passed through the woods. Filled with dens and tree-houses, we would hide and seek and fight with rivals, swing from trees and walk its waters. Never tiring of what seemed like endless paths through thorn and trees, it’s only our Mother’s calls that would end our play.
Prince took us on a rare venture through the cwm once or twice when we were small, where he showed us how to make riverboats from long blades of grass, I remember watching them float away. Even then he smoked like a trooper, as I remember the Rizzla Pack in his hand, red and gold, as he rolled another.
The cwm, later became our short cut to school, or long cut in many cases, as time and again we wouldn’t find our way there. This was a place where we could hide from school, or a place that would lead us on new adventures, sometimes learning more than we ever did in a classroom. Often it was a place that, both my Brother and I would hide from my father, knowing of the chores ahead. This was a place of solace, while he waited impatiently for us to return. Although, at night where darkness loomed, the Cwm was a very different place, a place that boasted stories of cults and fictional characters like ‘Dai Twig’ (David Twig that is, yes as in a leafy twig, small branch), hilarious now I know, but back then this was like a Freddy Krueger type character with long wooden fingers that haunted your dreams. Children would claim that they had seen him, lurking along the entrance of the woods, his red eyes beaming. They had also heard his cries, so it must have been true, obviously!
This only made matters worse, when once, my Father sent me down the Cwm at night to fulfil one of my chores, one I had previously been avoiding. Back then we had a coal fire, and it was my duty to dispose of its ash contents, which would normally be waiting for me at the bottom of the garden in a wheelbarrow, ready to take down the Cwm. But having hidden from my responsibility my father saw fit that this task must be completed, at any hour, regardless of how dark it was. I had different ideas. I was Ten. No fucking way was I going down there in the dark. I mean what if ‘Dai Twig’ was down there, waiting for me.
From his throne, Prince watched through the window to see me make my way, as I disappeared into the darkness. I walked slowly at first, picking up my pace, until eventually I was running towards the bank at the end of the field that led to the Cwm. By now I was imagining all sorts, I thought I had even seen Twigs eyes. That’s when I stopped, and thought, bollocks to that. I tipped the barrow and ran in the other direction with my heart pumping out of my chest. Lets just say my fathers inquisition the following morning, was a revelation that made me wish I had succumb to a fateful death at the helm of Twig. It never stopped me hiding from my chores though, nor was it the last of my late night visits to the Cwm. #prince#gwendraethvalley #tumble #cwm #valley #artscoucilofwales #huwaldendavies