No. 87: Cardiff City Stadium [Cardiff City]

Saturday, 23rd January 2016
Cardiff City v. Rotherham United [Championship] 2-2

It's been a while.

Over 4 months since I visited a 'new' ground - I've suddenly realised that although the end is in sight, if I don't finish the 92 soon I'll have even more new grounds to do next season. So I decided I had two months to knock off the final six. First stop - the capital of Wales.

I decided to take the train again for this trip to visit the ancient homelands of the Silures. That's the ancient British dark featured, curly haired tribe that once inhabited this corner of South East Wales. We'll come back to them later.

I was staying over on Friday night, hoping to see what Cardiff's nightlife had to offer. Not knowing the city at all, I'd picked a budget hotel halfway between the city centre and Cardiff Bay - a clever idea, I thought, to be able to take both areas in. However the hotel was actually in an ugly and partially deserted corridor awaiting redevelopment and not particularly near either. Stupid boy.

Roald Dahl Plass. Inset: Iconic Facade of Millennium Centre.

It only took 30 minutes to walk down to Cardiff Bay though. Although I'd never been here before, stumbling upon the former dockyard known as Roald Dahl Plass since 2002, framed by the iconic facade of the Millennium arts Centre, was an unnervingly nostalgic experience.

Anyone who has watched an episode of Doctor Who since its 2005 revival, or even more so its spin-off series Torchwood, will instantly recognise this place as the background to a few stories, and indeed the actual location of Captain Jack Harkness' Torchwood base in the case of the latter.

Not that I'm geeky enough to have watched any of it, obviously. But just for you weirdo geeks (which I'm not one of, as I mentioned) I did manage to find the secret entrance to Torchwood Three and Ianto Jones's shrine. God bless him.

Torchwood Base: Ianto's Shrine (I don't understand what this is, myself).

Cardiff Bay was basically created in the 1990s with the building of the Cardiff Bay Barrage, as an attempt to regenerate the silted-up and derelict docks by creating a high-water mark.

Sunset over Cardiff Bay. Inset: Statue of Tiger Bay Residents.

The barrage effectively created a large freshwater lake by containing water from the rivers Taff & Ely  to make it more aesthetically appealing than the ugly mudflats that were exposed everyday at low tide. And it has worked.

There is a modern complex of shops, restaurants and bars next to Roald Dahl Plass called Mermaid Quay, modern luxury apartments framing the bay and even a few tourist attractions pulling visitors to this area since its redevelopment. It's all a far cry from the area this used to be, once known as Tiger Bay.

After a stroll along the bayfront, I pondered the area's history over a pint of Brain's SA in The Packet. A Victorian pub I reckon dockers would have been able to watch much of Tiger Bay's rise and decline pass by its stained-glass windows, until the docks finally closed in 1964.

Tiger Bay was the notoriously tough working class and ethnically diverse residential area that grew around the docklands during Cardiff's rise to prominence as one of the world's largest coal-exporting ports in the 19th century.

By the turn of the 20th century, over 9 million tonnes of coal passed through here to the rest of the world, and the community of Tiger Bay serviced this industry. Much of the notoriety may have been exaggerated, but reputations are not all smoke without fire - in the early days murders went unsolved, prostitution was rife and lesser crimes unpunished as many perpetrators buggered off to another port before they were caught.

But Tiger Bay was also one of Britain's first multi-cultural communities and the Italian, Irish, Arabic and Caribbean folk here all came to live together here in relative peace as the 20th Century drew on and being from Tiger Bay became a source of pride to the residents.

Their descendants still make up the rich character of this city, and one of the more vocal (and drunk) of my fellow drinkers in The Packet was an elderly chap with a distinctly Welsh cadence to a partly-wilted Caribbean accent - and I wonder what stories this old feller could have told me of 'rough & ready' Tiger Bay back in the day...

But I was hungry. Plus he scared the life out of me to be honest. So I walked across the road to an Indian restaurant that had been recommended to me - Moksh.

Regular readers will know that I do like a curry. It's usually my restaurant of choice, and although I do experiment with other cuisines on these trips, I'm always grateful when someone gives me an excuse to indulge by recommending an Indian restaurant.

Moksh: Best Indian Restaurant Ever. Seriously!

And this was the best recommendation since that one about not eating the yellow snow.

Moksh, the brainchild of Mumbai-born and multiple award-winning chef Stephen Gomes, provided me with literally the best Indian food I think I have eaten in my life. And that includes in India, by the way.

The wonderful experience started by being very warmly greeted by Clynton, the personable South African front-of-house Director of Moksh, who looked past my lack of a reservation with a smile and guided me to a table, and on finding out it was my first visit telling me I was in for a real treat, as Stephen's menu was something exceptional and beyond the normal UK Indian restaurant experience.

And it surely was.

To start with I had "4 States & Home" - different preparations of lamb from around the sub-continent: Tandoori chop from Uttar Pradesh, vindaloo tikka from Goa, sheesh kebab from Bihar and boti chattinad from Tamil Nadu. All of this served alongside Welsh cake ice cream which Clynton said I must eat after each lamb piece to help cut through the spice and cleanse the palate.

After the pink grapefruit amuse bouche, it was onto the main course, an Indian twist on a spicy coconutty rendang, with the most delicious garlic & coriander buttered naan in existence.

Myself and the Moksh team. They made me very happy.

I was stuffed but had to try and fit a dessert in, so ordered a Kulfi, served in an earthenware pot on a bed of dry ice. Such theatre - and then the bill then turned up underneath a tree of bubble-gum flavour candy floss. Wowsers!

Sorry to go on about it, but it was pretty special. Seriously people - go. And no, they aren't paying me anything!

The desire to smash into Cardiff's nightlife wasn't really there after having to be rolled out of Moksh, so I took up another recommendation and headed to watch some music at Clwb Ifor Bach.

Originally set up as a members club for Welsh speakers in Cardiff (and known as 'The Welsh Club" to English-speakers - something that had I known in advance might have prevented me having to pronounce the Welsh badly and confuse the taxi driver). It's now mainly a low key music venue of up and coming underground artists.

Tonight started with the immersive experience that was Albatross Archive - I'm not a music reviewer so I'm not going to attempt to explain their sound. But various reviews describe them as an eclectic duo of synth-pop keyboards and staccato jazz percussion accompanied by live animated visuals. Quite bonkers but pretty enjoyable.

Daniel Knox: Haunting.

Then there was Daniel Knox. A big bearded maelstrom of brooding melancholy from Illinois, Knox's powerful baritone cut across haunting keyboard melodies in songs about derelict shopping malls, imaginary childhood friends and time-travelling cars that left me and the rest of the club sat in entranced silence for the best part of two hours.

Apart from two blokes next to me who started talking when Knox was introducing a song, and were asked "Why don't you shut the fuck up?" by the artist.

Every one fucking well did after that.

Next day I woke up to a beautiful crisp morning, and headed off to Cardiff Castle early. I had a choice between the Castle and the Doctor Who Experience, and history won. Mainly because as I told you I'm not a geek and not because I'd already been years ago or anything sad like that.

Right in the heart of the city, Cardiff Castle is on the site of a Roman fort built to subdue the war-like native Silures 2,000 years ago. See I told you we'd get back to them. That's all I know about them though - so we'll press on.

Cardiff Castle Keep.

The keep of the Castle itself was built shortly after the Norman Conquest, and for most of the last millennium was the seat of various barons appointed by the English king to keep this part of Wales under the thumb of the crown.

In the late 12th century the Norman Lord William, Earl of Gloucester held the castle.

In 1198 a local landowner named 'Ivor the Short', disgruntled that Gloucester had confiscated land from him, scaled the walls of the Castle with his bare hands and kidnapped William, his wife and son and held them hostage until the land was returned.

Ivor's Welsh name was "Ifor Bach", and the club I was in the night before was named after this brave and probably quite mental, chap.

Cardiff Castle & Millennium Stadium beyond.

It's a beautiful castle with a wealth of history and well worth a tour of the grounds and house (with its exceptionally over-decorated gaudy rooms), so I'm not surprised old Ivor wanted to have a look around inside.

The impressive Millennium Stadium was conspicuous above and beyond the ramparts - a modern day fortress perhaps. But from a vantage point atop the keep itself I could also spot my goal for the day - Cardiff City's imaginatively named Cardiff City Stadium, about 2 miles to the west.

It was time to head off to the match, so I trudged off the 30 minutes down Ninian Park Road to the Lekwith area of the city where the stadium resides.

Site of the Centre Circle of Ninian Park, new Stadium beyond.

The new stadium was built in 2009 right next to where their home for the previous 99 years, Ninian Park, had stood. Like many former grounds, this has now been redeveloped into housing, but there is a nice memorial to the old place with a stone recreation of the centre circle and brass plaque signifying where every game for a century kicked off. A nice touch.

The new stadium is also the de facto home of the Welsh National team these days - The Millennium Stadium being the preserve of cauliflower-eared fellows unless the football team plays a team that the smaller stadium cannot accommodate (England, for example).

"Our City is Blue" - Cardiff City Stadium.

Having said that, Cardiff City Stadium is hardly a small place - since the completion of the second tier on the Ninian Stand in 2014, with it's absolutely huge roof which extends forward towards the pitch for longer than you think it should, the capacity is a whopping 33,280.

Other than this extension on the one side, this would look a pretty standard new bowl-style stadium, albeit a very tidy one. But the other striking thing about the Ninian Stand extension is that the seats are red, when in the rest of the stadium they are blue.

This is because the extension was built during owner Vincent Tan's 3 year brain freeze, when he stuck his fingers in his ears in the face of fan protests over his bonkers decision to re-brand the Bluebirds.

Ninian Stand: With 'red seat' 2nd Tier Extension.

Not only did he relegate the Bluebird to a minor figure in the club crest in favour of a Welsh dragon, he famously changed the club's home colours from blue to red. Just like that.

Fans were of course in uproar over it, as you would rightly expect - but Tan wasn't listening. This was his club and this was how it would be. It was a clever idea in principle - the red and the dragon being popular and lucky symbols in much of Asia. With Cardiff on the verge of the Premiership with the added exposure in Asia this would bring, had he taken over an American-style sports franchise in similar circumstances, who could argue with him?

Keep your Head on, Tan! Red/Blue Protests.

But an established Football League club is NOT a sports franchise - it's a century old heart and soul of a local community, with a history to go with it you cannot just ride roughshod over.

"Blue now. Didn't you get the memo?"

Cardiff fans have just celebrated a year since Tan had a change of heart and the club reverted back to the blue - apparently after taking advice from his devout Buddhist mother on the importance of togetherness, unity and happiness.

Following that statement, just as quickly as the blue had become red, the red went back to blue, and the Bluebird was back as the club's crest too - albeit with the smaller dragon underneath now a distinctly oriental one, rather than the traditional welsh dragon. I can't believe many Bluebird fans were too upset with putting up with that, considering.

The club may have their colours and their bird back, but it's still not all things rosy in Cardiff. Currently subject to a transfer embargo for being in breach of financial fair play rules, and is in a reasonable debt, not least of all in millions of £'s in loans to current owner Tan.

On the football field, Cardiff are treading water a little just outside the Championship play-offs, but are still very much in with a shot of returning to the Premiership if they put a run together.

Well, no better way to continue last week's win at Wolves than with a hat-trick in today's game against Rotherham, right? Well that's exactly what Cardiff got in this game from winger Anthony Pilkington.

1927 FA Cup Winning Captain Fred Keenor infront of Asian tourist adverts.

Unfortunately, one of the three goals was into his own net just after half-time, to give the visitors the lead 2-1 having cooly netted the equaliser just before the half, Rotherham's Newell taking the ball past the keeper and finishing from an acute angle, the finish drawing claps of appreciation from some Cardiff fans around me.

The pitch, freshly re-laid before this game looked good, but despite Cardiff playing some good football on it they just weren't producing the end product. The referee came in for some stick for this of course, ostensibly for being English - something that must annoy the Cardiff fans every week playing in the English league system.

"Bloody hell, playing an English team and we've got another fucking English referee this week Geraint!"
"I know Dai, fucking cheating, biased wankers."
"Makes you wish Ifor Bach was still about."

Cardiff attacking the Canton End Stand in the 2nd Half.

Well that's what I imagined I heard. I did hear a rendition of "It's always shit on the English side of the bridge" sung from the rowdy Canton Stand, which made me chuckle.

Cardiff got an equaliser on the hour mark from Pilkington to complete his odd hat-trick, but couldn't find that winner, despite countless late pressure. But with 5 minutes left Cardiff had a man sent off for a 2nd yellow and it was Rotherham who suddenly looked like they could force a winner, against the general run of play.

Exit for Allan.

As the final minutes ticked away and it was clear no winner for either side was coming, the crisp sunny day gave way to a torrent of drizzly rain as the sun dipped down over the stands. Great timing, weather - just as I was about to walk back to the station, I was going to get soaked.

But on trying to leave the ground, I could only find exits specifically for some bloke named Allan, so it took me about half an hour to find a way out and by then the rain had softened a little.

In the end, I just used one of Allan's exits and hoped he wouldn't mind - because unless every fucker in the ground is called Allan (unlikely), none of these Cardiff fans seemed to be respecting Allan's exit privacy and were all filing out through his exits, so I just went for it.

Great Western's Cardiff Central Station. Gateway East Home to England.

And so, I strolled back through the damp city and into the eerily-lit Cardiff station building, I could say goodbye to Wales and head back home across the Severn after a very enjoyable weekend in one of our nation's capitals.

I will most certainly be back. Mainly for the curry to be honest. Not for any of the Doctor Who stuff. As I've said, I've no interest in that.

With thanks to: James Stanley & Callum Ellis.

Next Up: Coventry City (Feb 13th!]