Newport Corinthians v Aber Valley
Newport YMCA v Ponthir
Pill v Villa Dino
Next morning and I decided to stay South for my Saturday action. I was sorely tempted to a day in Sussex, and my first viewing of a competitive game of the new Reading Rugby League team, but the reliability of the south eastern league isn't great, so instead it was across the water and a day of friendlies in the Newport area.
So it was down to the newly rebranded Swindon station.
And one of the rebranded HSTs to Newport. The station was rebuilt for the 2010 Ryder cup and it hadn't been cleaned since. I've been to many places across the length and breadth of Britain, but I'm still firmly of the opinion that Newport is the shittest. Even across Europe, you have to be in the fringes of Macedonia before you reach somewhere this bad. My day was centred around Pill, which is amongst the worst areas of the City, so double fun. Not that shit is bad, give me a dive over the leafy opulence of the Home Counties any day.
My walk was down commercial road, with the commerce firmly focused on sex shops, vaping, 11% Kestrel and ethnic food. This was also the home of what used to be called winos but are now termed as street drinkers. However, they had a cunning way of avoiding authority by all being positioned on mountain bikes. The problem with that was that cycling doesn't appear to be the simplest of tasks when you have just spent the last two hours bang on the legal highs. Add to this the nature of the area meant the pavements were busy with people carrying crates of pickled vegetables, old blokes trying to hide their faces as they carried freshly purchased farmyard pornography, and pensioners in disabled carts at speeds that would shame the Arizona salt flats. All of which combined to give a very surreal yet entertaining Saturday morning walk as on at least three separate occasions, I had to step over a spread eagled drinker and his bike, who was be shouted at Polish by someone retrieving pickled cucumber from the gutter. How tennis gets in the Olympics and this doesn't, I'll never know.
To add to the sense that Runcorn now suddenly seemed quite scenic, this was my first glimpse of what my day was to be focused around, the Newport Transporter bridge. See as it rises majestically above Danny Ducks Cafe and Ace Tyres (part worn from £10 a corner).
Though the former wasn't the dodgiest named eating establishment. At least the smutty innuendo is correctly apostrophed.
So here was the engineering marvel. Newport Transporter Bridge was built in 1906. A low crossing point was needed to link the docks and industry on either side of the river. However, the large tidal range meant a ferry could not be used, and the height needed for ships to pass under, meant a bridge could not be constructed without having approach ramps that started somewhere near Fishguard. So this was built. It uses a lot more cables instead of steel trusses than other similar bridges, so is of only half the weight. Its age has meant it has had to go through a couple of major refurbishments. A couple of additional bridges have now been built, so it is no longer a transport link, and exists purely as a tourist attraction, well, apart from cranks going to watch football at adjacent football grounds.
I'd been across the bridge once before. Whilst my mates got summer holidays to Lazarote or Butlins, having a human geographer parent, I got to experience thinly disguised tours around social regeneration schemes, once such example being three days around Ebbw Vale, where I got to go down a coal mine, get a distant view of a tinplate works, and experience the decline of Newport docks. I also got to see Bleanavon Blast Furnace Social Reserves v Abertilery Excelsiors so it was probably a trade off. Return visits in the last few years had seen the bridge closed, so I was very pleased to see this signage.
As I was the only person present, we had a wait for any other business. This would have been ok if I hadn't been rounded on by the two attendants. The first launched into an excruciatingly detailed description of The high pressure, hot, friction lock riveting process.
As I was being told exactly how many rivets on the bridge, I was grateful when his mate interjected with views on how this compared to other riveted structures; Golden Gate Bridge (1.2 million rivets "fine until you get an earthquake"), Eiffel Tower (2.5 million rivets "yeah, but it doesn't actually take you anywhere"), However, it was the mention of the Middlesbrough transporter bridge which sent the duo appoplectic.
Apparently, that one is designated the longest transporter bridge in the world, but this is due to the measure being taken from each end of the cantilevers, rather than at the actual span the cradle is carried across, or the extent of the support wires. On all other measures Newport would triumph. Bloke number two, was by now raging "they don't measure the Severn Bridge from each end of the M4". I thought about correcting him to say that the M4 no longer went over the Severn Bridge, but then I realised that I had another 30 seconds of being suspended 40 foot above the river Usk, and I didn't really feel the need to be deposited into its murk waters, just to try and give balance to an argument between Gwent and Teeside.
Instead I went to the visitors centre, for yet another lesson in riveting, but I was able to buy perhaps the greatest article of clothing I will ever own. I will wear it forever more, even in the shower. #BNWT. (Edit - I wore it the rest of the day and got fed up with people pointing out the picture looks like a pair of Y fronts hanging from a decorating table).
This was the location for my first game, which looked to be an authentic recreation of the entrance to an East European brothel.
Coronation Park is a large playing field complex which shares its time between hosting football matches and being cleaned up after the latest invasion from travellers.
Newport Corinthians 2 v Aber Valley 0, Pre-Season Friendly
Newport Corinthians were formed in 1961, that I only know because it says that on their badge. They joined the Gwent County Newport and District premier.
Aber Valley hail from Abertridwr, a former mining village north west of Caerphilly. I am sure you know them as Aber Valley YMCA, but they recently split away from the latter. They play in the South Wales Alliance league, which is the renamed South Wales Amateur league.
The football pitch is railed off at one end of the site.
It seems that dug outs are irresistible for the youths of Gwent to either set fire to or smash to pieces, or just nick them. Therefore, arrival at the ground was greeted with these being carried out of a secure shipping container and placed on the pitch.
The game got underway right under the gaze of the Transporter Bridge.
I was informed by an excited sub that his headcount of 30 was a record crowd.
An @keepers_towel for the fans of industrial heritage.
Very unexpectedly, a low rumbling could be heard, which sounded very much like the sound of an EMD struggling for adhesion. Sure enough, across the river, a Colas class 70 emerged from Newport docks, on a line I thought had long since been mothballed. The location has notoriety for this Canadian built class of locomotive, as they were delivered at these docks, but one of them was dropped, bending it in half, and meaning it was sent straight back to Canada and scrapped.
In the corner of the park is a 'dog rehousing hub'. This means the park was full of people in hi-viz, shouting 'no, no, no, no, no' repeatedly at ferrell canines.
Somewhat against the run of play, Corintians took the lead.
Aber had chances to equalise but some decent keeping kept them out.
Corinthians then added a second.
I'm pretty sure that is how the game ended. There seems to be less than prolific use of Twitter by either of the sides, so there is no evidence to suggest otherwise.
I'd watched the game so far thinking it was actually the Veterans team playing Riverside Rovers. It was only when some more 'experienced' and sturdier folk started setting up the second pitch that I checked to find that I was actually watching the reserve team.
It was back across the transporter.
Leaving the veterans game still in progress.
There had been a change of crew so the return journey was free of the risk of the operator self combusting over inter-bridge rage. I was able to take in the view down to the Bristol Channel...
...and back up to the city centre.
It was only a short walk to my next game, but the splendour was constant, this time being down an abandoned dual carriageway.
My next game was here. If this looks like a blurred photo of a sikh wedding at an inner-city YMCA, that is because it is blurred photo of a sikh wedding at an inner-city YMCA.
To access the ground as I have previously, would have involved walking straight through the middle of the wedding ceremony and then two squash games, so instead I found an alternative entrance down the side of the building.
Newport YMCA 2 v Ponthir 0, Pre-Season Friendly.
Newport YMCA were previously one of the leading teams in Welsh amateur teams. They were formed in 1973 from two extremely strong YMCA teams, Central and Pill. Four successive Gwent league titles saw promotion to the Welsh league, and a series of strong finishes followed. However, the formation of the National league did not meet with YMCAs facilities, so they remained in situ when most of their peers went to the new league. Recent times has seen a steady drop down the Welsh league, until two seasons ago, when they dropped back to the Gwent league. The club produced Tony Pulis, a feat immortalised in the eponymous rap by Goldie Lookin' Chain.
Ponthir is a small village up the Afon Llwyd valley towards Cwmbran. The football club were established in 2005 with a youth team coming of age and joining the Newport and District League. A rise up the divisions saw promotion to the Gwent County league in 2012. A lot of work has been put in since to make the ground ready for a higher standard, but at present they remain in division 3.
A concerted effort to improve facilities in the 1990s saw a prolonged saga as half the facility was sold off for a retail park, and efforts focused on upgrading the pitch that remained. However, this didn't actually materialise until the early 2000s, and by then the team were in decline.
There is a stand, if you can actually find the way to it.
This is a small cover halfway down the touchline.
Seating capacity = 1.
Predictably, the brick benches have been destroyed by vandals, and these replacements have been hastily acquired. I'm not sure where from, as they have palm trees painted on them.
The rest of the ground is railed off grass banking, which has long since been taken over by thick brambles.
There are signs of hard standing, but a layer of moss made it more hazardous than the grass.
However, the Transporter was clearly visible over the stand.
As well as the towering electricity pylon who's presence are seemingly compulsory for Gwent league ground grading.
So the start of game two.
No trains or towels as a backdrop, so here is the bridge as YMCA attack.
Here is the bridge as Ponthir attack
The visiting keeper makes a save.
The rain on the screen caused my phone to go a bit nuts and focused in on this bloke and took a photo. I was a bit pissed off as this is the best action photo I have ever taken, but I have no idea how I did it.
With the rain now lashing down, I attempted to reach the stand from the far end, through another stretch of Mendalgief jungle.
My Livingstone-esque exploits were rewarded with a goal immediately being scored right infront of where I had just been standing.
The away bench had decided it was dryer to stand on the opposite open touchline than it was to use the proper dugouts, as they at least got some shelter from the trees.
Meanwhile, the home bench decamped to the stand.
The doorways of the squash courts being the other popular means of shelter.
YMCA added another and the game finished 2-0. Although in need of a bit of TLC, this is still a lovely little ground, and its current vegetative state actually adds something to it.
So onto my next ground, which again was only a couple of minutes walk away.
Pill 1 v Villa Dino 2, Pre-Season Friendly
Christchurch Villa Dino are a merger between Gwent league Christchurch Hamdden and Villa Dino. The latter is an Italian restaurant in the east of Newport. They have also enveloped various local junior teams, and now have a large youth and ladies set up.
Pill started off with a rather nomadic existence at Pill Sporting Club, Tredegar Arms, and the Italo Welsh Club. However, in 1991 they moved here which is the Pill Harriers Rugby club where they have been since, adding their own facilities in 1993. The location was originally marshland, but was added to using spent ballast from ships at the adjacent, but now filled in, town dock. The reclaimed ground was then handed over to the local dock workers for their use as a sporting facility.
Most of the ground is railed off parkland.
However the strange feature is behind one of the goals.
Behind what appeared to be the Newport formation open-air dope smoking record attempt, is this large earth mound.
With a cartoon style pathway to the top.
Enlisting a team of Sherpas, I scaled the west face to get the required view with the transporter bridge in the background.
Actually, that was my second attempt, my first being photo bombed by a not-very low flying seagull, which can be seen exiting stage right.
The home keeper was not only resplendent in Gábor Király jogging bottoms, but he also had two @keepers_towel.
Not that they helped him as he was a bit shit and immediately let in a goal.
I think this made it 1-2 at the final whistle.
My day was not over as it was back to the bus station for my next move.
This took me out past what was the huge Llanwern Steelworks, but the masterful Thatcherite economic policy means that secondary industry, providing a decent level of employment for 6000 local people, to produce a product for export, is almost completely gone, replaced with the economic powerhouse of a Wilkinsons distribution depot, whereby a handful of East Europeans on zero hour contracts earn minimum wage as they but boxes of far east produced tat on pallets. Nevermind, I'm sure the brilliant minds in charge of Brexit talks will get that sorted.
I was off in Undy.
The current Undy Athletic were formed in 1970. By the 2000s they were in the Gwent County league, which was won in 2011, and so came promotion to the Welsh League. Two more promotions saw them reach Division 1 last season.
I was hoping to catch the end of their late kick off against Pontardawe Town. Except the game had in fact started off at 1430 so instead I got to watch a local butcher unload pies for the clubs race evening which was being held that night.
Entry to the Welsh league requires the ground to be enclosed, so I take it the security fencing is the rather improvised solution.
A gap in one corner meant it was possible to get a ground photo, with the relatively new cover on the far side.
Signs of the now seemingly obligatory stickering from away ultras, in this case, Port Talbot.
The ground lies adjacent to the South Wales Main Line, although the railway is in a shallow cutting so their is no opportunity to get a @nonleague_train. Passing is the 1730 Cardiff - Portsmouth service, which for those lucky enough to be going any distance on it, was formed of a two car 150 vice the booked three car 158.
A decent selection of footballs in the six foot reflected the proximity. And possibly the standard of play in the Gwent County League.
I had assumed I'd head back into Newport for the train, but I'd just missed the bus and the next one in an hour just missed the train, which would have meant an almost four hour journey back. So instead it was a mad dash of my favourite B-Road Grass Verge Walk of Shame.
This took me a couple of miles down the road to Rogiet, which is the location of this station.
Just in time to get the Taunton stopper.
This was taken through the tunnel to Patchway.
I used to be the Station Manager for an area that included Patchway. The station was quite secluded by trees, and its isolation meant we had a lot of problems with late night vandalism. I then received an offer from the adjacent British Aerospace works, that if I cut the row of trees down, they could monitor the station using their CCTV. This was duly done using a psychotic group on community service who spent most of the time dueling with chainsaws. It was only later did I find out that the reason the BAE security were so keen for the work, was that the station car park was one of North Bristol's foremost dogging sites, and they now had an unhindered view.
For me it was another mad dash, this time through the common land to Bristol Parkway station.
Just in time for the following London bound service.
Which dropped me back to Swindon two hours earlier than if I'd gone back to Newport.
