Photo taken from one Jim Blob Blann's flickr stream. He has some lovely picture of Aberystwyth which make the place (if not the people) look almost attractive.
Well, there's been bit of a strange start to the morning; after a troubled and largely sleepless night I was rudely awakened by thunderously loud music. 'Music' is stretching it; the dawn was broken by an ebullient cacophony that sounded for all the world as if ghosts of Wales had risen up to march to war. Rolling timpani drums, competing (equally boisterous) male voice choirs, and chorus of lamenting women thrown in for good measure; all singing/howling "Bread of Heaven" as if they were on the wild hunt.
The odd thing is that the origins of this frenzied Wagnerian terror are an absolute mystery. It was supposed to be a copy of Cerys Matthew's new album, 'Tir', a lovely lilting affair, but somehow, I'm told, iTunes has channelled the host of hell into a stirring rendition fit for an epic medieval battle. The next track was a strange pizzicato string thing...
I shall be spending some time deciphering it, whilst polishing my sosspans bach and mawr into armour.
In the meantime, why not have a wee listen to the songs they made me sing back in school assemblies and eisteddfodau (big artsy competitions, which all learning must grind to a halt for). Additional bit of trivia Cerys Matthews's former bandmate Owen Powell was once my old welsh teacher. Wales : it's a cwtchy little country.
I'm moving so so soon.
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