Anyone fancy a cold water dip?

Much to my delight, the Caerphilly Local History Facebook page recently posted a photograph of the open-air swimming baths at the Morgan Jones Park. These were built in the mid-1930s after the opening of the Park in 1934. Funded by the Special Areas Commission ("designed to facilitate the economic development and social improvement of certain areas which have been specially affected by industrial depression"), these were part of a group of twelve such swimming baths paid for in this way in the valleys. Now long demolished sadly but the memories remain intact. 

In my day, mid 1950s to early 1960s, it was a magnet for many (most? all?) children in the area during the summer months when they were open. OK, so they were bitterly cold and crowded but they were the place to be in the long, hot summer holidays. "I'm going up the baths", I'd say and, after joining the motley crew that comprised our gang, off we'd go with our towels and knitted swimming trunks (yes, really, home knitted swimming trunks). Bedwas and Machen UDC blue bus from Bedwas Square to the Tanyard in Caerphilly (known locally as Lavender Corner because of the awful smell and where my great grandfather, Jacob Batt, had worked as a 'flesher'. Although, from what I've learnt of the occupation, 'deflesher' is probably more accurate), cross over to the Pic (short for Piccadilly) and then up Nantgarw Road to the Park and the watery heaven that was the baths. Depending on how much money we could scrounge from our parents, we'd have enough for the entry (low coppers in old money) and maybe a frozen Jubbly and a bag of chips afterwards. Facilities were rather crude by today's standards - just the pool and rudimentary changing cubicles with wire baskets for your clothes.

On our way home, we'd quite often sneak into Caerphilly Castle and explore the towers, ramparts and moat. This was pre-Cadw and there were numerous breaches in the walls that we could get through. I can't remember any custodians being around because we were never chased away or told not to venture into parts we shouldn't. And there were many of them which are nowadays out-of-bounds, which is a shame because what's left is a pretty sterile castle-experience that you can get anywhere. 

I've come across this photograph which gives the route we walked, from the blue spot in the top left to the baths in the bottom left. I'd put the photograph at slightly later than the mid 50s as, before then, the moat to the right of the castle was the site of allotments with a footpath leading diagonally across it from the Twyn. It was from this side that we got into the castle. A breach at the base of the famous leaning tower was a favourite spot.

Thinking of the baths brings to mind the tragedy in 1961 when a friend, Edward Combstock, drowned there on June 29th. He was just 16 and was a year ahead of me in school. From what I recall, he had hit his head on the diving board and entered the water unconscious. Our gang went to his funeral in Bedwas. Here’s to the memory of Edward, a lovely boy.