Manchester born, Welsh by adoption ...
During most of my childhood ( during the war years 1939 - 45) and young teen years most family holidays were spent in Lancashire, Wiltshire, Derbyshire, Devon, Cornwall, and North Wales with a few visits to the Lake District. With annual day trips on the ferry from Fleetwood to the Isle of Man.
My father was born in 1897 and signed up as soon as he was of age for army service in WW1.
He was involved in action on the Seine and the Dardenelles where he was struck by malaria and invalided out in March 1919. The continuing attacks he suffered continued well into my childhood in the 1940s and I remember well running to the medicine cabinet for the Quinine.
Afterwards he showed no interest to travel outside the UK but
loved Scotland, the West Country and North Wales and Snowdonia. After the war he took us there at every possible opportunity - sometimes just for long days out.
South Wales and the even less well known - “Mid Wales” were unknown to me until I left home to go as a student to Cardiff.
Wales is without doubt a land of well hidden secrets with far more to offer than most people who head only for Snowdonia, the castles of north Wales and its coast realise.
After years as a student and afterwards working in Cardiff, the Capital City of Wales, in the industrial valleys of the Rhondda and Merthyr Tydfil, as well as Swansea and the Gower coast, I retired to a Market town in Monmouthshire.
Abergavenny was a place I had got to know well. It was also a town my husband knew well having been born and brought up in Monmouthshire