A Vagabond Life

As we sat on Cold Knapp Beach yesterday in the nearby town of Barry, sipping white wine from a paper cup, Stan and I looked at each other and said, “My Lord, this is a great life!”  The air was fresh and just right for taking a deep breath; the breeze fluttered our hair, and the sun warmed our bodies as we looked out on Cardiff Bay.   On this day, only a few people chose this place.  We spread our towels on a nice, quiet spot, unpacked our picnic of homemade chicken sandwiches, and watched a diligent fisherman cast his bait far out into the sea.  Later, we snoozed while we each listened to audiobooks.  This life, how could it be more perfect? 

We know our lifestyle is not everyone’s cup of tea, but it suits us perfectly.  Some people we know could not tolerate the insecurity of not having a house to return to someday and might feel untethered like a puppet without strings.  Some need the company of their cherished collections, heirlooms, and stuff.  Some with nearby family and friends could not imagine not being able to host dinner parties and Sunday gatherings with those they love.  Some folks have a passel of grandchildren they could not stand to be apart from some have pets that are like children. 

We love all that, we do, indeed.  We freely admit, though, there are things about home we deeply miss. Our friends and family are important to us; we miss them. We make a point to visit everyone when we are home, which means we see most people almost as often as we did before we started this adventure. Besides missing people we love, Stan misses using his strength to climb onto the roof to fix a leak, paint the soffits, or working with his hands and imagination to fix things.  I miss working in the soil, planting seeds and harvesting vegetables, gathering a bunch of herbs for a fragrant kitchen bouquet, or snipping a bunch of flowers for the dining room table. I miss planning, preparing, and serving a big, delicious candlelight dinner for eight.  Those are wonderful things that are very much some of our very favorite things in life, but conversely, taking a gamble, seeing the world, meeting people from all corners, and learning about how others live appeals to us.  Travel adventures are exciting, challenging, and there’s never a boring day. We never know what the next day holds for us. 

Stan and I are fortunate that we still find each other very interesting, yet we enjoy and appreciate similar things.  We are kindred spirits, but are as different as night and day. Even after 50 years of marriage, the last together all day, all night, every day, we are somehow still happy to be with each other.  Sometimes we go for hours without speaking a word, and then at other times we have intense conversations in which we revisit old stories or, even better, learn something new about each other.  I think one of the best compliments Stan gives me is that he tells people that I am his best friend.  He certainly is mine, but moreover, he makes me laugh.  Sometimes he makes me laugh until I cry.  He’s not hysterically funny, but he has a wonderful, easy-going approach to life that complements my rather straightforward manner.  He also has some of the best one-liners I’ve ever heard, and I never know when he’s going to let go with one or what he might say.  But I’ve seen him throw many a restaurant server or store clerk a curveball when he comes forth with one of his originals.   For example, as we stepped up to the counter at a pharmacy one day, the pharmacist made the usual greeting, “May I help you?”  Bad cop, Stan leaned in and said, “Sure, you got any free samples back there today?”  As the stunned pharmacist attempted to grasp the situation and figure out what Stan might have meant, I, the straight man, stepped up and said, “I probably should have warned you about him.”   

Thank goodness, the pharmacist had a good sense of humor.  I could almost see his lungs expel air of relief; we all got a good laugh.  That little moment made an ordinary day an extraordinary one for the pharmacist and for me. 

Stan Weeks is definitely one of the good guys.   

But it’s more than that, we simply enjoy each other and like each other, we like doing the work it takes to plan and pull off what we are going to do each day, where we are going to stay, and how we are going to get there.  And the biggest plus of all is that nearly every day is a holiday.  For example, we are staying in an apartment that overlooks the lovely River Taff in Cardiff, Wales.  We hear seagulls; we see river cruise boats go by.  On our first full day here in Cardiff, we participated in a guided walking tour of the city with other people on holiday from Germany, Spain, and, guess what, Montana.  By the end of the 2.5-hour tour, we knew a lot about Cardiff and each other.   The next day we followed the river path from our apartment to Cardiff Bay.  We spent the day there in this former industrial wharf area that is now a huge vibrant, family attraction, dining, and entertainment destination. We walked end to end, people watching, visiting the old harbormaster’s office, Wales Parliament House, having pizza and a Mister Whippy ice cream cone.  Today we went to the beach.  Now, does this sound like a vacation?  We live like this almost every day. 

A little about Cardiff, it is the country’s capital.  Today it has almost 400,000 people, roughly 10% of Wales’ population.  Cardiff had only just over 1,800 residents in 1800, but then things changed.  Rich veins of coal were discovered in nearby hillsides about that time.  One tremendous mine, called the Pit, was not far from Merthyr Tydfil, where we stayed a few days ago.  The wealthy Stewart family from the Scottish Isle of Bute arrived in Cardiff.  They built docks in Cardiff’s natural bay and developed a complex railway system to move tons of coal to the docks for exporting to the world.  Cardiff coal fueled the Industrial Revolution.  The city grew in leaps and bounds, attracting workers and families from around the globe.  The world simply could not get enough of Cardiff’s coal.  

Prior to and during World War I, Cardiff was one of the richest cities in the world, boasting a port busier than New York City’s ports.  During this time, John Stewart, 3rd Marquess of Bute, invested heavily in Cardiff.  He enhanced the 13th-century Cardiff Castle owned by his family since 1776, making restorations and adding a grand clock tower (the iconic symbol of Cardiff today.  He transformed the castle into a lavish masterpiece, adding gilded gold ceilings in important rooms, electric lights, and opulent furnishings and art in others.  He developed the city’s docks, enhanced the city’s water and sewer infrastructure, built or had a hand in the construction of all the lovely Victorian buildings in Cardiff, and he gave money to the poor and newlywed couples.  He became a local hero and is credited with making Cardiff a world-class city. 

Not long after WWI, the demand for coal dropped off.  Other countries began producing and exporting coal at cheaper prices, and the overall demand for coal steeply dropped off as petroleum and natural gas became primary sources of energy. 

The Stewart family eventually returned to the Isle of Bute.  With it no longer feasible to maintain the Cardiff Castle, they deeded the property to the people of Cardiff in 1947.  Never bombed or shelled, the Cardiff Castle which originated in 1200 is well-preserved and is the showcase of the city. 

One more interesting point about Cardiff:  It is known for its Victorian arcades, possibly the impetus for today’s indoor malls.  These unique shopping lanes, originally narrow streets, are now covered in arched glass roofs.  It rains quite a lot in Cardiff.  Back in the late 19^th and early 20^th century, this town was super rich.  Wealthy people wanted to shop, but they did not like getting wet.   In 1858, the Royal Arcade, the first indoor arcade, was built.  It was soon followed by arched glass coverings on 7 more alleys, like the Morgan Arcade, the High, the Castle Arcade, and the Wyndham. What makes shopping in Cardiff’s arcades unique is that most of the shops, cafes, and restaurants are independently owned.  You won’t find any big retailers or fast-food joints in the arcades. But you will find, for example, the oldest record store in the world, Spillers Records, circa 1894. 

So, after another full day, here’s what Stan and I ask each other as we drift off to sleep at night,  

“What would you like to do tomorrow?”