Legend
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| Y Ddraig Dderwen O Fethesda |
Hughesy - Bethesda Legend.
For those who never knew the man, he was one of a cast of characters whose stage was the inns and hostelries of 1980's Bethesda. It was a time of plenty. The work at the Quarry and on the construction of the pumped-storage scheme at Dinorwig and Llanberis paid exceeding well: semi-skilled shuttering joiners on the power station were being paid around double the national average wage and male employment was practically full.
Entertainment in those days was largely centred around massive sessions in the pub. Now, there are currently ten pubs in the village, including Carneddi and Rachub, and at least three from the Eighties are no longer in existence. That would make eleven pubs along the High Street (fact-check required but it can't be far wrong) alone. And they were all rammed. Every evening. Lunchtime business wasn't too shabby, either, especially Saturday and Sunday. I might add that until the early Eighties, the village was in a 'dry' county, where pubs closed on Sunday - the Chapel lobby was still strong in those days - but those in the know...
Anyway, Hughesy was retired for most of the time we knew him - he was in his late seventies or early eighties when he died. When in his cups he, shall we say, spoke in tongues: a mixture of Welsh, English, Italian & German, mainly, but not exclusively. He was fluent in at least four languages as far as I recall from those rare conversations with him when he was sober. Looking back, it was only too easy to think of him as the entertaining fool he presented himself as, where in fact he was an extremely well educated and erudite man, an ex-Marine Commando who'd seen real active service. A really good bloke. Legend.
We are sorely in need of his kind in these vexing times, if only that by comparison, his verbal acrobatics would make a crazy situation like the present seem utterly sane...
For those who never knew the man, he was one of a cast of characters whose stage was the inns and hostelries of 1980's Bethesda. It was a time of plenty. The work at the Quarry and on the construction of the pumped-storage scheme at Dinorwig and Llanberis paid exceeding well: semi-skilled shuttering joiners on the power station were being paid around double the national average wage and male employment was practically full.
Entertainment in those days was largely centred around massive sessions in the pub. Now, there are currently ten pubs in the village, including Carneddi and Rachub, and at least three from the Eighties are no longer in existence. That would make eleven pubs along the High Street (fact-check required but it can't be far wrong) alone. And they were all rammed. Every evening. Lunchtime business wasn't too shabby, either, especially Saturday and Sunday. I might add that until the early Eighties, the village was in a 'dry' county, where pubs closed on Sunday - the Chapel lobby was still strong in those days - but those in the know...
Anyway, Hughesy was retired for most of the time we knew him - he was in his late seventies or early eighties when he died. When in his cups he, shall we say, spoke in tongues: a mixture of Welsh, English, Italian & German, mainly, but not exclusively. He was fluent in at least four languages as far as I recall from those rare conversations with him when he was sober. Looking back, it was only too easy to think of him as the entertaining fool he presented himself as, where in fact he was an extremely well educated and erudite man, an ex-Marine Commando who'd seen real active service. A really good bloke. Legend.
We are sorely in need of his kind in these vexing times, if only that by comparison, his verbal acrobatics would make a crazy situation like the present seem utterly sane...
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