Rising numbers of Covid 19 cases has resulted in a local lockdown in Cardiff, with residents not allowed to leave the city except for essential travel. Overhearing a conversation about whether one could visit Marks & Spencer's in the Culverhouse Cross retail park, set me wondering where the boundaries of Cardiff were, important as when out walking, I would not want to accidentally break the law by leaving the area. So I decided to try and walk along some of Cardiff's boundaries to see where they went.
Cardiff is both a city and it appears a county, as well as a council area. I thought it was part of the county of South Glamorgan but it appears that was abolished in 1996. In my school days Cardiff was part of Glamorgan but that disappeared even earlier. Glancing at the map in the regulations I decided to start my walk at Cardiff Bay, walking from Cardiff Bay railway station across the barrage that has enclosed the bay since 1999. A pleasant walk, the bay on one side and the sea on the other, with water gushing through large gates from the bay to the sea, which today was at low tide. It strikes me as an excellent place to generate some hydroelectric power, capturing some of the energy of the departing water.
Being Cardiff Bay I naturally thought it was in Cardiff. A mistake. On seeing the Penarth Marina sign having crossed the barrage I thought I better look more carefully at my Ordnance Survey map. In fact I had inadvertently left Cardiff and entered the borough county of the Vale of Glamorgan when I crossed the locks in the barrage. I saw no signs to indicate my error, and there were plenty of people enjoying the walk and unbeknown to them risking a fine of £60. A more natural geographical boundary would have been the ancient sea cliffs behind the bay, with the town of Penarth on the top, a natural barrier now covered with trees, behind the marina with its posh modern houses. I crossed the Ely River back into Cardiff at the first opportunity at a pedestrian bridge, here there was indeed a sign warning against anything but essential travel. In my little excursion outside Cardiff it seemed highly improbable that I had become infected by anyone since I had been several metres away from the nearest person, nor likely that I had inadvertently spread the virus should I not know I had it. Most transmission is in homes, work places, care homes, hospitals and the like, not outdoors so why the act of crossing an invisible line should somehow spread Coronavirus, when there are plenty of the above in Cardiff, is a bit beyond me. Nevertheless, as a law abiding citizen I made especially sure to stay within the county line for the rest of the day. At first this was easy as the map showed the county boundary running down the centre of the River Ely, and on the Cardiff side of this river there is the waymarked Ely trail, which I followed through trees, and a park on a former rubbish tip, beside the more urban areas of Cardiff.
My walk along the river ended with a new estate of high density housing built on a "brownfield" site. Google maps unfortunately anticipated the future, suggesting there was a way through the estate, however, at the end of the street I walked along, building work was still in progress, and I had to retrace my steps and walk along a section of the busy Cowbridge Road. After crossing the Ely River beside the road bridge, I turned left back along the river into older housing in an attempt to get close to the boundary again. Spotting on my map where Cardiff's boundary ran proved difficult, I concluded the dashed lines were hidden by the A4232 dual carriageway, a road with no pedestrian access. To get as close as possible I walked into Trelai Park, an area of grass, dog walkers, football and rugby pitches I never before knew existed. There was also a smart, new looking school, in an area that I had previously, and wrongly, thought of as a bit run down.
Following backstreets I was looking for a means of reaching a hillfort marked on my map. Once before I had attempted to find it, but was deterred by the lack of Public Footpath signs. I also found no such signs this time, but with my map at hand in case I should be challenged, with public rights of way clearly marked on it, I first followed a tarmac path through an area of neatly cut grass and when that died, climbed up through woods on a steep path of slithery mud. Reaching the plateau, grassy ramparts and ditches were evidence of the Iron Age Caerau Hillfort. In the centre was the ruins of St Mary's church, which may date back to the 13th century. It appears there are plans to make the site more accessible with a visitors centre and better trails, certainly it deserves to be a better known as a major archaeological site lying just within the boundaries of Cardiff.
Coming down from the hillfort on a mucky vehicle track, it was through the houses again back to Cowbridge road, passed a cemetery and almost to the Culverhouse Cross roundabout, which people were crossing and possibly illegally leaving Cardiff. Instead I turned right down Michaelston Road before returning to a path that ran close to the A4232. Initially I followed a tarmac path, but after that the public footpath marked on the map, that should have returned me to the Michaelston Road shrank to multiple partings in the undergrowth. I suspect I lost wherever the path was meant to go and followed a vague route made by local residents that led down to the River Ely. Pushing through Himalayan balsam plants, following the fence by the railway at times, and passing an old wooden weir gate, I arrived back at the road by the railway crossing at St Fagan's.
St Fagan's has a wonderful Folk Museum, currently closed by the Coronavirus pandemic. So I headed back down the Ely Trail, and up through the suburb of Fairwater to its park (the Dingle Dell) which, improbably though it seems, has an artificial ski slope. Shortly after that there was the Fairwater Railway station and the end of today's ramble.
For a gpx track of my route visit wikiloc.com.
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