Warrior princess Gwenllian and me

I mentioned that I have some illustrious ancestors. Husband spent a long time working on my family history and stumbled across a link to a tree created by an academic in Welsh history. From this link he was able to draw up my tree to show the link between me and numerous famous people including Welsh princes and princesses.

As I say, the original appeared to be a fairly well-researched and academic investigation and is probably quite reliable back until the twelfth century. Following William the Conqueror's invasion more birth/death records were kept, certainly of the nobility, and lines can be traced through time. Before that family history is more about possibility and guesswork than fact so my links to Joseph of Arimathea and indeed Julius Caesar are slightly more suspect. 

One wall of our spare bedroom is covered with one branch of my tree consisting of a few hundred people; in the whole tree there are thousands.

The arrows pointing to the yellow boxes at the top left indicate the presence of Rhodri Mawr or Rhodri the Great. Rhodri gained the epithet Great  both because his kingdom stretched from the north, Anglesey, to the south, Gower, and because he was a fierce warrior.

Leap forward a few centuries and you find Gruffudd ap Rhys, prince of Deheubarth, who was married to Gwenllian, daughter of the king of Gwynedd.

At the time the Normans, who had built Kidwelly castle as a defence against the Welsh, were in possession of it and Gruffudd set off for North Wales to plead for help from his father-in-law to defeat the them. While he was away Norman reinforcements landed and marched to the castle. 

Gwenllian seized the opportunity to prevent the extra troops arriving and gathered a small army to go and do battle, a battle in which she was defeated and her son killed. She was immediately ordered to be beheaded. Although she was unsuccessful it is her spirit and bravery that have ensured her a place in the annals of Welsh history. And I am ashamed to admit I knew nothing of her until our visit to Kidwelly castle on Friday

Later ancestors actually lived in the castle but it all gets a bit confusing so I'll just sit back and relish a warrior Welsh princess as my 22nd great grandmother.

There be dragons!

But first, last week's outing to Aberglasney.

The house had many good old days when it was owned by numerous rich people but by the twentieth century it was becoming too costly to maintain and first parts of the grounds were sold off and then eventually the house and its gardens were left to rot.

But in the 1990s a trust was set up and thanks to a rich benefactor the house and gardens were bought and are now run as a charitable trust. The gardens were first to be restored. Work is still being done on them and on the house, very little of the interior of which has been restored as yet.

It's been proven that the cloister garden seen in the photo above existed in Tudor times.

Sunken garden

Upper walled garden (the lower walled garden is given over to fruits and vegetables)

The yew hedge/tunnel dating from the eighteenth century

Refreshment report
No oldies' outing is complete without tea and cake in this case, welshcakes. Sadly disappointing. they were served warm but had been heated in a microwave so were vaguely soggy and sorry for themselves. They were served with a pat of butter, which is unusual, but I used it to try and improve the experience. It didn't.

But a very lovely setting for the cafe overlooking the pond.

So that was last week. 

There be dragons

This week it was off west again but this time to Kidwelly castle. Now I didn't even know that Kidwelly had a castle but it turned out to be a large and well preserved structure with loads of windy steps, rooms, cellars and towers to explore.

What I had forgotten but Husband reminded me was that this was at one time the home of my ancestors. (I must do a blog post about my illustrious past.)

So it was only fitting that I should sit on the ancestral throne (or possibly a carnival prop).

'You're being very brave,' Husband commented as I made my way up the third storey of winding narrow staircase. I don't do heights well. Or bends. Or dark closed-in spaces.

'I'm getting old,' I said. 'I have to do these things. Even if it is on my hands and knees.'

And there were dragons!

The mum is called Dwynwen and her babies are Dylan and Cariad. Apparently following the arrival of their offspring mum and dad had a falling out so Dewi, the dad, has stayed behind in their old home. He's not the only one who's had his nose put out of joint. Cedric, the resident Kidwelly dragon, has had to be locked away in a dungeon while the babies are here and and as you wander around the castle you can hear him roaring that he doesn't like it one little bit.

Leaving Kidwelly in search of our second tea break of the day we visited Burry Port. There's not a lot there.

But I did have a most delicious scone with jam and clotted cream in the Harbour Tea Room.

Not that I'm obsessed you understand but when we passed some road signs on the way Husband remarked on the sign pointing to Pembrey air field and I picked out the one pointing to Pembrey tea-room.

Actually Husband shouldn't have been surprised to see Pembrey air field. The last time we passed through we discovered that Amelia Earhart had landed in Burry Port in 1928 becoming the first woman to fly the Atlantic (although that time not as pilot). They'd meant to land the plane in Ireland but had missed in dense fog. 

Other little things

On the road to Burry Port we passed two warning signs telling us to be careful 'Otters crossing.'

If you were going to open an Indian restaurant in Burry Port what would you call it?

The Curry Port.