first’steddfod, 10/August/17

caught between sea shanties
there was a babell yn y maes
lle was I?
eisteddfod was I
“dw’in dysgu siarad gymraeg”,
as if that wasn’t obvious…..
a learner of Welsh
“y dysgwr”
between baffled and bemused (and y babell!)
a stranger in a mush stranger land perhaps
…. but, priorites……. within 15 minutes yn y Maes, the Welsh National Eisteddfod here on Ynys Môn, Anglesey, I found what would become my go-to coffee haunt….. fairtrade, organic arabica coffee…… priorities!
y Maes, or field, or Eisteddfod as it is affectionately known, sprawled before me like a giant chwarae…. playground……. a veritable chwarel o geiriau….. quarry of books…..
“croeso, croeso…. walk this way……….”
amser crwydro.… time for wandering higgledy-piggle….. my first ever Eisteddfod, bards and books at every turn and every other cân, music, leaping, lilting, falumping, with splashes and dashes of clogiau which I say outside at ten listening too not daring to even peek inside, just a chaos of clogs with my coffee……
artisan and artists, poetrists and prosers, sesiwn gwerin kicking off streaming from Ty Gwerin…. fiddles, harps, whistles and flutes while a battle of the bands over there, way over there offers aids for digestion among a field encircled by wagons of food upon food being consumed into submission……. a hungriest of cultural hoards descend……..
I was facing all directions at once not knowing which way to turn but turn I did here and turn I did there quite often going in circles, lên upon lên of pixie-trails… I was upside down but still I kept filling my lens, click-click!…….. “mwy goffi!” I cried, “amser coffi! eto!”, the call of more caffeine too strong……… the flags waved me in the flags waves me out and continued to wave all the diddly-i-de-day-o, dragons filled the massive sky accompanied by puzzled gulls, gwylanod, looking longing for scraps……
weary legs
and aching feet
signalled my defeat
made it clear the hours had slipped away and evening slipped the nod…..
Gildas penned a tune or two to wend us on our way while all the day I managed to avoid the brownie siocled, the stall that kept appearing everywhere I turned with its chocolate treat so brown and sweet wafting down the makeshift ‘styddoed’…..streets……..
I know, I know, what a load of lolian I write!

(to be continued…………………..)

ps…… no language was harmed in the writing of this blog

© robert greig 2017


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