Borrowed Times

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Something that popped up on a North Wales newsfeed today: Y Ffynnon Y Wrach, the well of the witch: a natural spring on Holy Island, Ynys Môn, beneath Holyhead Mountain. Mentioned in George Borrow's Wild Wales, Its People, Language and Scenery, it made me dig out the copy of his book from the shelves. To be frank, I've only dipped into this record of one man's autobiographical travels throughout our country, infrequently and peremptorily, and confess I've never attempted to read it from start to finish. I suppose his rather outdated, florid use of language has somewhat put me off in the past, but I think I might give the whole thing a go, some forty-some years after I bought the book, on arriving here in 1980.

I will also get hold of a copy of his "Lavengro", as a part of arriving at some understanding of my own, complex, heritage: a mongrel Brummie, born of Welsh, English and probably Roma antecedents; the latter needing some considerable research, but what the heck? The astonishing richness of 'ordinary' lives should be celebrated and never denigrated or sidelined. We have a history, and it needs to be celebrated. After all, ordinary people have made all the extraordinary things that have formed our modern world happen: we made history; the people that benefited, financially and reputationally most of all, simply seeded, funded and eventually exploited those achievements...

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