Introduction to Welsh Culture

9 Jul 2024

I moved to Wales in 2007.

The background is that I applied for a job with a company based in Edinburgh, and they offered me the job, but on the condition that I relocate to Wales to help set up their Cardiff office.

I'd never been to Wales before — I couldn't even point to Cardiff on a map, but I accepted the job, found myself a flat and within a month I was installed in Wales.

There were only two of us in the Cardiff "office" — the other guy, Jon, was a native from the valleys, and we quickly became friends. Our company was working on behalf of the Welsh Assembly, so our "office" was just some hot desks in their Cathays Park building.

After a couple of months, it was time for the Autumn international rugby games. I'd never been a hugely interested Rugby — or any other team sport for that matter, but it seemed like a big deal in the office.

Jon, was a rugby fan and involved in his local rugby club, and offered me a spare ticket that had become available to see Wales vs South Africa at the Millenium stadium. The stadium was so prominent in town, we walked past it on our way from the train to the office every morning, so I decide to go along.

There were 5 of us in the group when we met outside Cardiff Central station. The valley boys had really gone to town. One was in a daffodil shaped balaclava-type hat with his face poking out the centre of the flower, and the others had Wales bobble hats, scarves, and dragons stencilled onto their faces in red face paint.

We made our way straight to the stadium, even though it was 2 hours before kick-off, and we spent the time in the bar underneath our seats drinking Brains and lager.

It was a great experience. The stadium was still fairly new at that point, there was lots of chat of whether the roof would be open or closed, and nice chat between the different groups of fans.

I stood for the Welsh national anthem but couldn't sing along — although by the end of the first half I'd picked up the refrain of "Bread of Heaven".

Sadly (but not unexpectedly) South Africa beat Wales. South Africa had won the Rugby World Cup the month before, so were on top form, and scored 34 points against Wales’s 12.

As a Scotsman with barely a passing interest in team sports, I was unprepared for the emotional response from my new Welsh pals. The guys were genuinely dejected, with a couple of tears as we quietly made our way out the stadium.

There was a collective decision in the group to go to the Fantasy Lounge — a strip club on St Mary's Street — in an attempt to cheer themselves up. I'd never been to a strip club before, I wasn't entirely comfortable with visiting one, but I was immersing myself in Welsh culture and went along with the group.

Having paid to get in, I found myself sat on a banquette next to Jon watching a dancer doing her thing on the table in front of us. We didn't know each other that well, and both sat awkwardly drinking over-priced lager from our bottles while she performed.

The other guys all sat there, still looking glum and depressed, staring at this girl while still wearing their bobble hats with dragons painted on their face. Even the daffodil was just scowling at poor girl.

After 10 minutes, the other lads disappeared for "private dances" leaving Jon and I sat awkwardly sipping our lagers.

Then, after another couple of minutes, a dancer approached us wearing very little, and said, "Are your names Jon and Albert?".

I was shocked — how did this stripper know both our names? I feared that she worked at the Welsh Assembly during the day and recognised us from the office!

We confirmed our names and she explained, "Your friends have all just been chucked out."

Such relief! We made our way up the stairs and back out onto St Mary's Street where our depressed group now had something new to scowl about, then made our way to Cardiff central for our respective trains.