Glam rocks
and crannies, and sense of character – no two bedrooms are the same.
After raising a glass to Iolo, I headed across the street, first to the aforementioned standing stone and then through the Physic Garden, a community project completed in 2008 as a nod to the apothecary gardens of the 18th century.
Inside, the beautifully symmetrical flowerbeds were festooned with herbs, spices and even weeds, all formerly cultivated for medicinal use.
It would have been through places such as this where Iolo discovered and then relied on his poppy drink as a form of inspiration.
As well as his establishment of the Druidic order of the bards, he claimed to have unearthed poetry from some of the
Welsh masters. They were published and celebrated – and used as shining examples of 14th-century work – but later, after his death in 1826, found to have been elaborate forgeries, penned by none other than Iolo himself.
There are, however, some examples of his work around the town that definitely are real. The memorial plaque at Holy Cross Church, which he as a stonemason created, the Town Hall, he drew up the plans for its extension, as well as the first fair-trade shop in Wales that he established and owned (he refused to stock sugar grown from plantations that used slaves). It’s now a Costa Coffee that sports a memorial plaque in his honour.
The more I learned about him, the more complex a character he became. Not simply a liar, but a man so keen to demonstrate the Welshness of South Wales (at a time when the North was renowned as the more traditional end of the country) that he went to great lengths to “preserve” it, to the point where some of his tampered versions of medieval Welsh texts are actually better known than the originals.
Then, in 1819, his Gorsedd was officially merged to form the Eisteddfod, a national celebration of all things Welsh
Iolo refused to stock sugar grown from any plantations using slaves
– cementing Iolo’s legacy in Welsh history.
You’d think his name would be famous beyond the borders. But then the Vale of Glamorgan itself seems to be something of a treasure trove of culturally important artefacts and people that are little known outside the county.
The following day I went in search of some of these historical riches on a hunt that felt as though it was devised by Iolo himself.
My search took me first to St Illtud’s Church in Llantwit Major where – with no sign to advertise it – there are some of the best-preserved 9th- and 10th-century Celtic crosses in Wales. Then to Ewenny Priory where artist JMW Turner visited in 1795 and painted the interior arches – you can easily recreate the image on your phone as little has changed since his visit.
Finally it was on to St Cadoc’s Church in Llancarfan with its collection of some of the best-preserved medieval wall paintings of St George and the “Seven Deadly Sins” – which were unearthed accidentally when 14 years ago roofers chipped off some of the limewash wall. I only learned about it by chance
when chatting to a local.
After these ecclesiastical offerings I stumbled upon two major Neolithic burial sites called Tinkinswood (home to the largest capstone in Europe) and St Lythans. Both were reached via a small layby and faint footpath yet were in incredible condition given they are 6,000-yearold relics that pre-date Stonehenge by more than a thousand years.
I sat by the second as the sun set and read the local legends. They said that if I were there on Midsummer’s Eve I’d see the capstone spin three times while the supporting rocks would go to the river to bathe, and that a night spent at the first site at Midwinter would see me awake the following day as either a poet or mad. I wondered if Iolo had done just that.
I ended my trip at the far southeast of the Vale, on a tidal island called Sully, following another tale that sounded worthy of Iolo’s fabrications but was actually very real.
This time, rather than a Welshman, I was following in the footsteps of a Norman knight turned notorious buccaneer – Alfredo de Marisco, aka “Night Hawk of the Bristol Channel” – who arrived in the 1200s, turned to piracy, and terrorised merchant ships arriving at the nearby ports.
Word has it he famously sailed with a flag featuring a hawk’s skull which, some believe, may have spawned the idea for the skull and crossbones synonymous with pirates.
Back in the present day and any sign of a Jolly Roger is long gone. In fact the only real danger is not being able to leave this place – literally – as the notorious tides cut this landmass off from the mainland twice a day.
I walked carefully over the causeway, while the water receded beneath my feet, then sat on the rocks and imagined being here completely surrounded by sea, dreaming up stories taller than the waves.
There could be few better places in the world in which to be cast away. And that is definitely the truth.
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Its treasure trove of artefacts is little known outside the county