The Wife of Bath

"Whan that April with its shoores a saught" 

And that is all that I remember from the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales that we studied for O level. It was a glorious sunny day today and with the lack of a plan and feeling a little claustrophobic on the mean streets of Cardiff, I hopped the A Train to Bath. Bath is not too far from Cardiff and is a classy place with some gravitas and grain. It is also a wealthy place. Tory or Lib Dem I would imagine. I felt like a tourist. I have been a few times before and like a dog marking its territory I made a circular walk from Bath Spa Station. I took my notebook and pen in the hope that the muse would strike. I asked a couple of people where the Job Centre was and they didn't know. They were locals as well. Evidently a Middle Class town, the chavs and chavettes stood out a little bit. They appeared self conscious. There was a 'cafe culture' in Bath which would wipe its derriere on Mill Lane. Its unfair to compare Kairdiff with Bath. But I'm going to anyway! I wonder if it has got to do with History. Bristol and Bath have a history and heritage. Cardiff's only goes back as far as the Industrial Revolution. Merthyr was bigger than Cardiff at the beginning and now oh how the tables have turned. I wonder what response Ian 'Dunk the Spunk' Smith would have if he told the people of Cardiff to travel to Merthyr for work. There is no work in South Wales. No work of any class and gravitas. As an experiment I went into the Job Centre and spent some time on the Job Search Machines and it was as fruitless as if I'd done it in Cardiff. On the Train, I received a call telling me that I was to attend a Job Fit Information session on Wednesday! Oh Goody! A line from the Big Issue screamed out at me after the Phone call. In an article about George Orwell's 'The Road to Wigan Pier, the author and journalist Stephen Armstrong visited Wigan in August of last year. He spoke to Richard who said to him " What do you do if you are a 45 year old man with few skills, and you're told, 'If you work really hard you could be the one wearing the orange apron saying "Welcome to B&Q". Richard concluded with "I don't know why people aren't rioting?" The next day, in Tottenham, the riots began.

I can't imagine a riot happening in Bath, unless it's the return of the Roman Ninth Legion. Bath like Abergavenny, Penarth and Cowbridge is twee, quaint and wealthy with loads of Middle Class Punters milling about. I have to admit that I got done in Debenhams walking past a sign offering a Ploughman's Lunch. I won't tell you how much I paid but for ingredients that didn't come in at a 1/6 of the full price. I then had one of my many ideas that never come to anything. Re-introduce the Ploughman's Lunch into the British Culinary Calendar but proper ingredients and you could still make a decent profit if you sold it at a Fiver. I left like a wounded Welsh fox. I should have walked about to Roy Orbison's 'Only the Lonely'. There were plenty of buskers about, I'm surprised that one didn't follow me like Alan a' Dale.

I felt alone in Bath but not lonely. It was glorious down by the river, next to the Rugby club and looking over to the Cathedral and the waterfall. I am savoring my last moments of freedom because even though I have what is generally considered a serious mental health condition, (at least amongst the dinner party set), the forces of Toryism are closing in. I overheard obviously well to do's passing along on the river bank spouting some nonsense about benefit claimants. The Charity Shops of Bath were a dissapointment. There was plenty of stuff but none of it authentic and real like the stuff that I had purchased in Newport. They say that someone who is given a heart transplant starts to take on different characteristics, perhaps the personality of the person who had the heart originally. Maybe I just didn't want to put on the clothes of the Middle Class. There is a problem in UK plc. The Middle Class are too educated and comfortable and the old working class, or by now the underclass, are deprived a decent education and become trapped. Like Kensington and Chelsea, Bath is a Middle Class Ghettoe! There won't be any riots here.

Cardiff on my return felt warm and comfortable like an old pair of slippers. They say that you always hurt the one you love. I know I slag it off 'something merciless'. It's just that I want it to be better.