BY Clay Larroy
After working and studying hard all
year long families across the United States will be taking long awaited vacations. Family vacations and travel can be the
most rewarding experience. Families that take vacations together build memories that
will last a lifetime. Family
vacations are so important, as it gives us a way to connect with each other in
a stress-free relaxed environment. When you need to plan a trip contact
me!
By Allen Lee
I eyed the polystyrene pot with
caution. A black, glutinous, dollop of what can best be described as slime eyed
me back. "Go on, it’s lovely", urged the bubbly blonde holding the
pot.
I’m in Swansea, in South Wales. I’m
on the trail of one of the twentieth century’s most famous poets, Dylan Thomas,
who, for a brief period, was a bright shooting star burning in the literary
firmament. He was born in Swansea, the son of an English literature teacher. In
his short life, he became the toast of both sides of the Atlantic, and Wales is
littered with memorials. Some of his most famous work, such as the play "Under
Milk Wood" and the poem "Do not go gentle into that good night"
have become cornerstones of English literature.
So why am I eating slime in a
busy marketplace? It’s Laverbread, which has been eaten in some form in Britain
for centuries. It’s made from Laver seaweed - porphyria umbilcalis - which
grows on rocky foreshores. Carol Watts has been making Laverbread and selling
it in Swansea market for six years, although she and her family have been
involved in its production and sale for generations. "It’s a bit
squidgy" she admits.
The pot in front of me glistens
in the overhead fluorescent lights. "It tastes a bit like spinach",
says Carol, encouragingly. And yes, it might well taste like spinach, but it
looks like the Creature from the Black Lagoon. If you found this in your garden
pond, you’d reach for industrial-strength algae killer.
The seaweed had been harvested,
minced and then cooked for eight hours. It is a traditional delicacy of Swansea
and the Gower peninsula, and Dylan Thomas specifically mentions it in Under
Milk Wood. "Tourists come from the States, Australia, New Zealand and
they all try it," says Carol.
So I grabbed a forkful and put it
in my mouth. It doesn’t feel great. In fact, it feels gross. But it doesn’t
taste bad at all. If you can imagine spinach infused with the smell of the sea,
you wouldn’t be far off. I didn’t risk a second forkful, though.
Dylan Thomas was born at 5,
Cwmdonkin Drive in Swansea in 1914, and spent most of his childhood in the
city, or at his mother’s family’s farm in rural Carmarthenshire. His first
published poem was in Swansea Grammar School’s magazine. His first book of
poems was published when he was just 20 years old. He called Swansea that
"ugly, lovely town", and his literary ambitions were honed at the
Kardomah café in Castle Street, destroyed by Nazi bombs in 1941.
There’s plenty left of Thomas in
the city of his birth, and a festival every year in October and November serves
as an annual reminder. The Dylan Thomas Centre, in Somerset Place, is a
permanent exhibition of his life and works, and includes a shop full of
memorabilia about him.
From Swansea, I moved on west,
towards the wild, rocky Pembrokeshire coast. Rolling hills and valleys stream
past, patchworked with fields, brightened by occasional yellow flashes of
oilseed rape. We head for Laugharne, a little village where Thomas lived after
he married, and where he is buried.
Turning off the highway towards
Laugharne is a culture shock in itself. One second you"re on a busy main
highway, next second you’re in a country lane, with high straggling hedgerows
on either side. Parts of the lane are so narrow, there is no room for two
vehicles, which have to negotiate their ways round each other at slightly wider
passing places.
REFERENCE SITES:
http://www.travelresearchonline.com/
Do not go gentle
into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Dylan Thomas