A reaction to our recent article – ‘Illustrated Memories by John Rees’

It is always good to get positive feedback from articles on the RDN, Resolven Village website and it was particularly gratifying for the Editor to receive the following e-mail:-

“The recent  article on John Rees and his artistic contributions to the Resolven Community,  has left me with considerable family nostalgia and “Hiraeth”, and induced in me even more  proud memories that are firmly entrenched in my locker. It is particularly poignant, as the message comes to you from far away Canada, specifically ,Victoria, British Columbia.

I am John’s younger brother, Alun, who emigrated to Canada in 1963.

As I returned to Wales to participate in John’s Celebration of Life, I was privileged to be able to offer his Eulogy that morning in 2012. At one stage, I asked a rather large gathering to make a show of hands, of all those who had some form of John’s art on display in their homes.  It was a staggering sight to see a mass of hands, so deep into the room,  it was beyond the ability of anyone to have counted his contributions, all of which were freely given. I was so proud that all my personal family had made the journey from Canada, and they were no exception, as John’s art and artistic humour embraces the walls of their homes, and many more homes here in Canada.

Caryl, John’s  wife, and all their family in the Neath /Resolven/Buckinhampshire area, must take equal pride in your resurrections of a very talented Welsh artist, who embraced humour as if it were his normal breakfast food.

Diolch.

Alun Rees and family……Canada. October, 2024.”

We thanked Alun for his e-mail and started an e-mail conversation with him and the following is one of the stories relayed to us in Alun’s own words :-

“……………….. there is one story that I must share with you, as it says so much about the man as it does the artist.

John and Caryl visited the other Rees family in Victoria BC Canada in 1993.  As you probably  know, he loved walking the hills surrounding Resolven , and they were his specialty. He suggested one morning that I join him for a walk, and I agreed.  Instead of a pleasant walk along the beachfront here in Victoria, he chose to walk about 8kms through the middle of URBAN Victoria.   Along the way, he spotted an attractive-looking Victoria -age house, and as was his passion, he started to sketch the house in his notepad.    Within minutes, the lady of the house came across the road and asked if she could see what John was etching.  She was so impressed that she asked him if he could manage a painting of their home in either watercolour or oil.   He mumbled something about not having his materials with him in Canada, but he nevertheless agreed.  She said she would pay him for the finished work.   John immediately dragged me to the nearest art shop and within  two days he had completed a beautiful watercolour painting of her home. When we knocked at the door, and john showed her his artwork, I can honestly say that she genuinely had tears in her eyes, before saying to John that it was worth $3,000 to her, but she could not pay more. (I immediately thought that this would cover his expenses from the art shop and probably pay for his holiday).   I was excited.  But John turned to her and said, ” Madam , if you like my work, I am privileged and proud, and I would be glad to donate it to you”…  and he did.   End of story.

An unbelievable gesture, that I hope illustrates the man over the artist, although at times they were inseparable.”

Thanks for the photographs supplied by Mrs Caryl Rees

~ ~ ~ ~

Continuing my journey along the captivating Wales Coast Path, this leg took me from the charming town of Borth to the bustling seaside resort of Abersoch. With unpredictable weather and challenging terrain, the path offered a mix of breathtaking scenery, unexpected detours, and moments of quiet reflection. Along the way, I encountered a vibrant tapestry of landscapes, from windswept beaches and dramatic cliffs to peaceful estuaries and rolling hills.

Leaving the coast at Borth, I headed inland through Borth Bog, a vast peatland. Though missing the ocean views, I was treated to a mesmerising display of butterflies dancing over the bog. After a hearty breakfast, I entered the woods, emerging to a stunning panorama of the Dovey Estuary. Suddenly, a violent storm erupted. Thunder roared, lightning flashed, and torrential rain obscured everything. This was no ordinary shower; it felt like a primal onslaught. Finding no shelter, with even the sheep scattering in confusion, I pressed on, aware that a mountaintop was a dangerous place to be during a lightning storm. The path became a river, and my waterproof boots proved useless against the deluge. Water cascaded down my legs, soaking my socks, which acted like sponges, retaining litres of rainwater. 

My phone, defeated by the downpour, managed only a blurry selfie instead of the epic storm video I’d envisioned. Alone and soaked, I navigated the treacherous terrain, fording a raging river and enduring the relentless rain on exposed mountains. Finally, the sky cleared, offering a brief respite. Though I missed spotting an Osprey, the road walking was a welcome relief after the puddle-infested ground. Reaching Machynlleth, I celebrated the day’s victory, only to be thwarted by a comedy of errors while pitching my tent. It was like a wrestling match with a possessed octopus in a hurricane. Defeated, I retreated to the car for the night. Not exactly a five-star hotel, but hey, at least it was dry! And, unlike the tent, it didn’t try to fly away. 

Leaving Machynlleth, I crossed Dovey Bridge, dodging traffic cones as I entered the majestic Snowdonia National Park. Forest paths and forestry roads led me through Pennal and a charming holiday village. A slight detour (thanks to misleading signage) and a close encounter with a grumpy bull later, I ascended the mountain. The reward was extraordinary: panoramic views of the Dovey Estuary and Borth, which felt like I’d left only yesterday. Descending through fields and woodlands, I reached the character-filled seaside town of Aberdyfi. 

My first proper beach walk since Newquay was pure bliss: three miles of dry, windswept sand, adorned with a gentle mist and scattered with shells and jellyfish. Near Tywyn, I excitedly spotted a bird that I thought was an Osprey, but experts later informed me it was just a seagull. Despite this, the unexplored beauty of this corner of Wales left me feeling content. 

Tywyn, a charming seaside town with a convenient train link to the Midlands, was my starting point for the day. Setting off early, I enjoyed the sunshine and quiet roads before the path abruptly plunged into a field of tall grass. Reaching the other side, a panoramic view of the coastline was revealed, stretching from Barmouth just below me to the hazy outline of Porthmadog, and further still, down the rugged expanse of the Llŷn Peninsula. The vastness of the ocean, a deep, mesmerising blue, mirrored the endless sky above. It was a humbling sight, a reminder of the challenges and wonders that lay ahead, giving me a sense of the sheer scale of my upcoming journey. Later, a chance encounter with a farmer led to the discovery of a curious structure in his field – not a burial chamber, as I had initially thought, but a wolf trap! 

Misinterpreting a damaged signpost led me astray, adding unnecessary miles and frustration to my day. Reaching Llwyngwril two hours behind schedule, with daylight fading and a gloomy forecast, I reluctantly abandoned the coastal path. It was a harsh reminder that consecutive long walks were taking their toll. Opting to follow the road to Fairbourne, I finished the day’s journey, planning to return and continue tomorrow.

The next day dawned with grey skies, but thankfully, no rain. The WWII dragon’s teeth lining the promenade offered a glimpse into history. Crossing Barmouth Bridge was an adventure in itself, as I narrowly avoided its closure for improvement works. The toll booth on the Barmouth side presented a challenge – who carries cash these days? Luckily, I scraped together some spare change and continued on my way.

Barmouth seemed to slumber, not stirring until after 10 am, though its beachfront buzzed with high tide and crashing waves. Seeking refuge from the drizzle, I joined the road, eventually finding Morfa Dyffryn beach. Despite the gloomy weather, it held a unique charm. A sign warning of “naturist swimming or sunbathing” brought a smile to my face.

Reaching Shell Island, I detoured to admire Harlech Castle in the distance, enjoying a scenic cycle track and viewpoint. The rain faded as I climbed a hill, and I spotted a ferret-like creature darting across the road. Descending steep steps, I crossed the railway and arrived at Harlech Beach, my second beach walk of the day. The glistening sand and crashing waves contrasted beautifully with the overcast sky. Harlech, with its warm welcome, provided a perfect ending to the day.

Leaving Harlech Castle behind, I embarked on another day’s journey. Wet, thigh-high grass hindered my progress, but the reward was a captivating glimpse of Portmeirion’s colourful houses across the water. Following the road alongside the train tracks, I passed the Snowdonia National Park HQ and the Portmeirion turnoff. A sudden wave of worry washed over me as I realised I had missed the coast path marker.

Backtracking and exploring various paths only led to dead ends and frustration. Seeking help at Portmeirion, I discovered I wasn’t the first to lose my way. The “path” I had followed was devoid of coast path markers. How had I ended up at Boston Lodge, a mere train halt for the Blaenau Ffestiniog steam train? Navigation was clearly not my forte today.

Finally reaching the Porthmadog sea wall, I marked the end of this confusing, albeit swamp-free, adventure.

Porthmadog was quiet in the early hours before the tourist crowds awoke. I set off for the peaceful Borth y Gest, where the calm estuary, with its glassy surface mirroring the sky, offered a moment of pure tranquillity. A lone paddleboarder glided silently across the water, the only ripple disturbing the peaceful scene. The open vista, framed by rolling hills, created a sense of profound serenity that continued through Pen y Banc Nature Reserve.

However, this serenity ended abruptly at Morfa Bychan Headland, where the landscape became dramatic once again, and cars dotted the beach. Criccieth welcomed me with its imposing castle and a delicious breakfast. Refreshed, I strolled past the castle, enjoying the gentle waves lapping at the shingle beach, before embarking on a two-mile road walk, a welcome change of pace.

Back on the coast, a surprising sign warning of snakes appeared, before a holiday park and a headland. The day concluded with a glorious 3-mile beach walk at sunset, leading me to Pwllheli. While not the most eventful day, it offered a perfect balance of peace and progress, culminating in a beautiful seaside sunset – a reminder that sometimes, simple beauty is the best reward.

My final day began with a bus ride, but my confident march “towards the sea” led to a dead end. Sheepishly retracing my steps, I finally found the path. The promenade and golf course were uneventful until Llanbedrog’s burst of colourful beach huts. The path then passed Plas Glyn y Weddw, a Gothic mansion turned art gallery, and a lone tin man statue on the headland, gazing out to sea.

Vibrant heather on the mountain was a highlight, followed by a dramatic descent to a beach. With soft sand and the calls of oystercatchers, I headed towards Abersoch, eventually reaching the bustling “Welsh Riviera.” Seeking refuge from the crowds, I celebrated the end of my Aberystwyth to Abersoch walk with a quiet pub dinner.

Despite the challenging weather and the miles taking their toll, I’m determined to return and conquer more of the wild Wales Coast Path.

~ ~ ~

For those eager to follow my footsteps or simply seeking a taste of coastal adventure, my new book, “The Edge of Wales”, detailing my entire Wales Coast Path journey, is available in bookstores, Amazon, and from my website www.walkaholic.co.uk. Until next time, happy trails!

Jack_Walkaholic

~ ~ ~ ~

The following are cartoon-like illustrated memories of the Resolven Village Seniors Group outings – ‘Cornish Safari’ in 2003 and The Isle of Man in 2004 which were organised by the late Mrs Mair Arnold.

They were remembered fondly in drawings by the talented Neath Road artist, the late and much missed Mr John Rees.

Apparently, at the end of a trip day in the hotel, Mair would write something about what happened that day and slip the paper under John and Caryl’s hotel room door. By the morning John had produced sketches on Mair’s information.

You may recognise some of the local characters depicted in the sketches.

.

.

.

.

.u

.

.

.

~

Thanks to Mrs Caryl Rees for kindly providing us with these illustrations and taking us on a trip ‘down memory lane’.

~ ~ ~ ~

This photograph of the Aurora Borealis and ‘the Plough’ taken by Jack_Walkaholic.

~ ~ ~ ~