Wales

I am going to Wales this weekend.

Wales. A beautiful country. A land of song, of coal mining, of passionate poetry and belligerent nationalism. Where men are men, and women also wear trousers. Where rugged coastlines meet the violent Irish Sea, where drizzle-soaked hills are dotted with soggy sheep that nick your ice cream if you're not careful.

Ah, Wales. Land of my fathers. Or my father, anyway.

He left at the age of 21 and moved to Streatham, which was considered a step up.