Cardiff lacks tourist attractions. At the top of the minimal list is the much-restored castle, just a few minutes’ walk from our hotel.
But it was raining, and raining heavily, so whatever we were going to do on such a drab day was going to involve umbrellas and getting wet. No wonder the streets were quiet.
We started the day with a spot of shopping, first taking a taxi out to the Cardiff Indoor Flea Market through the city’s depressing, grey and sometimes run-down suburbs. The cab driver had never heard of it, which wasn’t a good start, and it turned out to be on a miserable industrial estate surrounded by puddles the size of lakes. Filling several warehouses, numerous stalls offered a range of antiques, vintage and retro goodies, from the sublime to the ridiculous, so Graham was in his element and celebrated by purchasing a cheap but attractive 1970s vase. On a wet day, ferreting around the market made for a pleasant hour and it was worth the journey.
Somewhat more salubrious are Cardiff’s famous, historic shopping arcades. The commercial and civic heart of the city is largely pedestrianised, which is a blessing, and much is given over to the monster that is retail. The Victorian arcades are quite hidden, lost amid a sprawl of bars, restaurants and modern shopping malls that have little architectural appeal or individuality. A modern shopping centre in Cardiff is, it turns out, like shopping centres in any other British town or city, with much the same range of shops and chains. It also has much the same problem with beggars and homeless people, a growing and depressing problem in the UK.
The arcades (the Royal, the Morgan, the High Street and so on) boast more of the independent traders and all of the character and we wandered up and down, admiring the architecture and some unusual shops – a second hand toy store here, a games shop there, some fancy boutiques, salons and delis. Many were shut for the day and those that were open were quiet. There was an endless supply of up-market coffee shops with hipster traits and exposed brick, and I wondered where they found all the coffee drinkers to make the businesses viable. We stopped for a light lunch at one such place before exercising our umbrellas on the dash to the castle, where it continued to chuck it down with rain.
The castle has been redeveloped repeatedly over the centuries and the audio guide did a good job of telling the story of the buildings and the people who lived and worked there. There’s a stretch of Roman wall from the 3rd century, when the site was an important fort, but at the end of the day it’s just a wall. We climbed the steep steps up to the Keep, one of the oldest parts of the complex that dates from the Norman invasion of the late 11th century. There’s not much of this old motte and bailey castle left but it does offer good views of the site and Cardiff beyond.
We walked along corridors inside the sturdy walls, which provided shelter and emergency accommodation during the air raids of the Second World War. The walls formed part of the redevelopment of the castle undertaken by the wealthy and noble Lords Bute, who grew wealthy on the industry and docks of South Wales in the 19th century and threw their money at one grand Welsh project after another to prove to everyone just how important they were. By far the most dramatic change was to the accommodation, which was given a facelift in the extravagant and colourful Gothic Revivalist style under architect William Burges.
Externally, the 150ft clock tower is a good example of his work, decorated with characters reflecting the planets. But it’s the interiors that are the most bonkers. As Graham suggested, some of the decoration looks more like a Disney fantasy than real life, while the extravagant Arab room looks like a gold, upturned jelly mould. Wooden animals and characters erupt from the walls and ceilings, medievalism is rife and gold is the dominant colour. The overall effect is gob-smacking in its weirdness and I’d absolutely loathe living amid all that gaudiness, but one has to admire the artistry and workmanship involved.
We squelched our way back along the footpaths to the shop, where we bought a tea towel and realised that we’d missed out on some of the most ornate of the castle rooms because we hadn’t signed up to one of the guided tours. I felt cheated so, after a quick wander round a military museum, we left and found ourselves a seat at the stylish Gin and Juice bar at one end of the fancy High Street Arcade. And very nice it was too for an hour or two.
The weather had cleared up to a degree by the time we went out for the evening but everywhere was quiet. We had a tasty burger at The Grazing Shed, served with a ton of chips, and settled into a pleasant cocktail bar elsewhere on the High Street – The Libertine.
We said goodbye to Cardiff the next morning, taking the train back to Paddington. I doubt we’ll be back.