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For my first trip out of England this year I didn’t need a passport, foreign currency or special documentation. It was quite a long journey but it didn’t begin with a shuffling security queue or an intrusive whole body scan. I know this sounds confusing, but I was leaving my country without actually leaving my country. You see, my official home country, the United Kingdom, consists of 4 separate countries rolled into one — England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. On this occasion I went on a trip from England to Wales.

Since Wales was brutally conquered in the 13th century by the Norman armies of King Edward I ( also know as the “Hammer of the Scots”), it has been forcibly chained to its larger and more powerful neighbour. For a long time it was in danger of losing all of its independence and identity. But over the centuries of subjugation the Welsh have stubbornly clung on to their culture and language. Finally in the late 20th century, significant power was devolved from Westminster to an elected Welsh Assembly in Cardiff. Welsh is now more widely spoken and taught in all schools. All signs are in Welsh as well as English. So, for Chris ( my wife) and I, we enjoyed the buzz of visiting another country without having to stray too far out of our comfort zone.

After a long, train journey from north-east England changing at Darlington and Derby, we finally crossed the England-Wales border at Chepstow, on the north shore of the Severn estuary. We tried to decipher our first Welsh signs, an impossible task. Upon leaving the station, we saw a forbidding Norman fortress, and not one, but two suspension bridges across the mighty River Severn. We travelled on through Newport and finally arrived at Cardiff Central station, part of the old Great Western Railway from London Paddington.

It was our first visit to the Welsh capital. It’s a city that was born out of the Industrial Revolution. The use of steam power created a huge demand for coal which just happened to be in plentiful supply in the south Wales valleys nearby. Iron ore was also mined and transported in large quantities. A canal, then a railway connected Merthyr Tydfil in the valleys with Cardiff on the coast. There, the landowning Bute family developed extensive dock facilities to handle the export of the “black gold.” The actual port was in Bute Town , south of the centre. The Butes and their city became immensely rich on the back of this trade. The population rose to 170,000 by the end of the 19th century and 227,000 by 1931. Cardiff was officially designated a city in 1905, and by 1913, it was the world’s top coal port, exporting 13 million tonnes of the stuff every year. However, the age of coal and even of fossil fuels in general is now coming to an end. Cardiff’s industry suffered in the 1930s Great Depression and the city and port were heavily bombed in the 2nd World War. So, for a number of reasons the city has had to reinvent itself. It has become a political, cultural, retail and sporting centre.

The old, dirty docks have been cleaned up and now, by the water, stands the modern Welsh Assembly building where one can see devolved democracy in action. Nearby, the Millennium Centre for the performing arts is a huge round building that looks like a spaceship that has come to earth. It’s made of different coloured Welsh slates ( purple, green and grey), topped by an over-arching shiny bronze roof. Above the main entrance the roof is pierced by 2 metre high, letter-shaped windows. They spell out phrases from the Welsh poet Gwyneth Lewis. They are very striking. At night they glow red. The Cardiff Bay area is a good mile’s slog on foot from the city centre. You can also catch a train or bus down there. We walked down for a look around. After visiting an interesting ( but expensive) craft gallery, we walked on to the Millennium Centre which has that magical trio of attractions — toilets, shop and cafe. Then we walked on to the waterfront which is dominated by the impressive red-brick Pierhead Building one of the few Victorian structures to survive. It’s in the French Gothic style and was put up in 1897. It has an ornate clock tower which is sometimes nicknamed the “Welsh Big Ben.”

With all these symbols of Welsh pride surrounding us, it seemed a bit perverse to visit a Norwegian church. To pile on the irony, I actually ate a Welsh rare-bit there. The church is a white, slatted wooden building with a black spire on top of it like a witch’s hat. It sits on the end of a tiny peninsula in Cardiff Bay. It was built in 1868. The design is based on a traditional Norwegian village church. Numerous Norwegians and other Scandinavians came to south Wales as seamen and traders, supporting the coal industry. Many stayed on and built churches in Cardiff, Barry, Newport and Swansea. The family of the children’s author : Roald Dahl , were amongst those who settled in the Cardiff area. Young Roald was actually baptised in the font of the same building where we enjoyed our lunch. The church has now been reconfigured as an arts centre and cafe. After its congregation dwindled because of the decline of the coal trade, the church was dismantled and then reassembled in its present picturesque location.

We had booked to see a modern dance production, Matthew Bourne’s “The Red Shoes”, at the Millennium Centre that evening but, not wanting to hang around for hours, we jumped on a bus which was just about to depart for the city centre. We had to pay £2.50 each for the privilege, as our English bus passes don’t work in Wales. The bus quickly plunged into a run-down, working -class area known as Bute Town or Tiger Bay. The singer Shirley Bassey famously came from this area along with the rugby player, Billy Boston. It is very multi-cultural and multi-racial. We saw Afghan, Indian, Chinese and Jamaican restaurants. We saw women walking around in burqas and passed a large mosque with a twisty, golden dome. A football match was shortly to begin and the streets were crowded with men, all walking in the same direction. We got stuck in a traffic jam but it was interesting looking out at the colourful street life.

From our hotel window, high up on the 17th floor, we had a spectacular view of the city centre. One of our ideas was to visit the castle which we could clearly see at the top of one of the main shopping streets. The plan was to visit the castle’s grand house, which had been originally been built in 1420 but had undergone major alterations in the 19th century to suit the fantasies of its owner, the third Marquess of Bute. He was obsessed with the Middle Ages and the whole house was remodelled as a mock-medieval, Gothic fantasy. To achieve this he employed the equally obsessed and eccentric architect, William Burgess, who apparently often walked around in medieval costume with a parrot on his shoulder. The result is an over-the-top, flamboyant fantasy which has to be seen to be believed. It’s not to everyone’s taste and I couldn’t live in it myself, but it made for a fascinating and unusual visit. The stand-out rooms such as the library, the banqueting hall and the Arab Room, are included in the price of a general tour. If you want to see the whole house, you would have to get on one of the hourly guided tours.

The house is impossible to describe. Just imagine an ornate kaleidoscope of : carvings, stained glass, marble, sandalwood, gold-leaf, mosaics, extravagant fireplaces, patterned rugs and friezes. The Marquess and his architect were both fascinated by astrology and religious symbolism, which is in plentiful supply. The banqueting hall is lined with heraldic shields and overlooked by a minstrel’s gallery. One half expected to hear the strains of Greensleeves to come floating down. The whole place is pure kitsch but, not surprisingly is the most popular part of the castle complex. We didn’t explore all the different areas so missed out inspecting the medieval keep or the Welsh military museum. ( the Firing Line). We also missed the WW2 air-raid shelter contained in a long, cold corridor within the thick castle walls. You cannot do everything. I admired the motte with the stone keep sitting on top of it and lovely daffodils decorating its green slopes. I liked the walls around the courtyard but was disappointed to find that they weren’t original or authentic. The castle had been built on the site of an earlier Roman fort and the Marquess of Bute in his wisdom had ordered Roman style walls to surround his Norman castle. Historical accuracy didn’t seem to bother him very much.

One interesting fact about the castle is that William the Conqueror’s eldest son, Robert was imprisoned there for many years until his death, aged 83. William chose Robert to succeed him as Duke of Normandy but selected his younger son Henry to follow him in the more powerful role of King of England. Because of the threat that his elder brother posed, King Henry I had Robert captured and locked up in the keep at Cardiff Castle for the rest of his life. So much for brotherly love!

To get to the castle we had to walk up one of Cardiff’s main streets, St Mary’s. The top section of it is pedestrianised. It’s full of eating and drinking establishments, plus a selection of shops. Parallel to it is another major, traffic-free shopping street, the Hayes, with all the main suspects represented. We restricted ourselves to Waterstones where I struck lucky, getting double stamps for my purchase because it was World Book Week. Between St Marys and The Hayes are several. atmospheric old arcades. We loved exploring them. One featured the oldest record shop in the country with a window display of nostalgic vinyl albums. We also spotted a colourful wool shop, an establishment selling Havana cigars and a gentleman’s felt hat shop. We wandered round a Victorian market hall. St Mary St is full of Victorian and early 20th century buildings, some of them quite impressive. Some have been put to a different use than originally intended. Banks have become bars and offices turned into restaurants. A handsome 19th century edifice on a prominent corner is now a Wetherspoons. My favourite transformation however, is the 1876 Philarmonic Hall which is now the Coyote Ugly Saloon! The whole central business area is overlooked by the Principality Stadium sitting on the banks of the River Taff. It dwarfs all the buildings around it, looking like a huge, praying mantis. It’s unusual to find a sports stadium right in the centre of the action. They are usually stuck in out- of- town locations where there is more space. It’s a pity that the Welsh rugby union team wasn’t playing a home match that weekend ( they were away in Ireland), as it would have been thrilling to hear the roar of the crowd and perhaps a rousing Welsh anthem or two.

On our second full day we walked up St Mary Street, past the castle and on into an area of stately neo-classical buildings. The Rough Guide describes it as “one of the most elegant administrative quarters in Britain.” One of these grand buildings was the venue for our second major cultural event of the weekend ( after the Modern Dance) — the Gwen John art exhibition, “Strange Beauties”, at the National Museum Cardiff. We entered via steps between huge classical columns. The outside of this magnificent building is adorned with sculpture and topped by two domes. It’s a sort of combination of the National Gallery and the Natural History Museum. Both outside and inside are impressive.

I said we went to view the Gwen John exhibition but for some people we told it was a case of Gwen who? They had never heard of her. Although a very talented painter, Gwen is not famous enough to feature in the premier division of celebrity artists. This was lucky for us as she is not yet a target for the mass tourist hordes. Miss John has largely gone under the radar. She is probably more famous for being the sister of Augustus John, her more flamboyant, artist sibling, and also for being a lover of the sculptor Auguste Rodin in France ( one of many!) Augustus recognised his sister’s great talent and predicted that in the future people would refer to him as Gwen John’s brother. Several friends of ours have recently rushed down to London to see the block-buster Turner- Constable exhibition at Tate Britain. I’m sure it is fantastic but I felt a certain satisfaction that we had travelled to one of Britain’s other capitals to see a less famous but still very talented artist. We were rewarded by being able to enjoy the drawings and paintings without fighting through jostling crowds.

It was a quiet, calm, soothing experience viewing Gwen’s quiet, calm, soothing pictures. There were only a sprinkling of other visitors. She painted three-quarter length portraits and peaceful interiors with a restricted palette. Looking at them and reading about her life was an interesting and reflective experience. Gwen and Augustus were born in Haverfordwest in Pembrokeshire and later moved to Tenby after the early death of their mother. They both went to the pioneering Slade School of Art in London. Gwen’s final move was to France where she had an apartment and studio in Montparnasse before moving to the Parisian suburb of Meudon. After the obligatory visits to the museum shop and cafe, we viewed the permanent collection which includes some excellent Impressionist and Post Impressionist paintings including Monet, Sisley, Cezanne, Picasso, Van Gogh and a dazzling pair of Renoirs.

Our final afternoon was spent strolling around the University area with it’s grand buildings. Many of them were formerly owned by the Marquess of Bute but he cleared off when the coal industry was nationalised in the late 1940s and donated his castle, statement buildings and huge chunks of land to the city. The University has taken over many of them now. We strolled through beautiful Bute Park created from his lordship’s estate. Amongst the stately trees we admired carpets of daffodils and tete a tetes and a row of lovely red peonies. We spotted a tree creeper, a wren and 2 jays, hopping about in the undergrowth. The river runs through the park and is crossed by pictureque bridges. It has a visitor’s centre, a couple of cafes and a plant sale shop. Apparently the pots of primulas were very cheap but we couldn’t carry them home on the train. Upon leaving the park we came across the animal wall — another of Bute’s fantasies. At this point the castle wall is decorated with stone figures of animals and birds. We spotted a seal, a bear, a pelican and an ant-eater, amongst others. The latter was originally installed without its long nose, which was only added when the sculptures were restored. Apparently many of the children of Cardiff believed that the creatures from the animal wall came alive and wandered the streets at night. It’s a nice story.

Early on Monday morning we caught a train out of Cardiff for our journey back to the north of England. Again there were no security queues, baggage scans or passport checks. It had been an interesting and stimulating weekend in the Welsh capital and I’m glad we took the trouble to travel out of England to visit another part of the United Kingdom, beating many of the crowds on a road ( or rail) less travelled.