Conquering the post-eisteddfod blues

Ben Wildsmith

With Baroness Morgan embarking on her ‘listening exercise’ around the nation this month, wouldn’t it be enlightening if she undertook the journey on public transport? I feel certain that she’d encounter some fellow passengers who would be happy to share one or two concerns with the First Minister.

The rail line from the Rhondda to Cardiff was recently closed for eight months whilst Transport for Wales worked on electrifying the line. Local people were placated with half-price travel and the promise of a futuristic new system, including an integrated hub for buses at Porth and a monorail over the Rhigos to link up with the zipwire at Hirwaun.

I’m unsure of the details. Rhondda residents, we were assured, would only have to think about Cardiff and we’d be tucking into a Clark’s pie before we’d had time to put our big coats on.

Mirage

Thus far, the hub in Porth remains a mirage, with ‘finishing touches’ being applied. All requests for a finish date, from residents and councillors alike are met with your-call-is-important-to-us obfuscation.

The electric trains did happen, though. As you know, Pontypridd briefly became the centre of the Cymric universe last week, doing a superb job of hosting the National Eisteddfod. The town looked fantastic, with a breathtaking new mural and visitors remarking online about its welcoming and vibrant atmosphere.

Those arriving by rail were carried on the new electric trains for which we suffered so long. Those eight months of commuting hell were swept away by the dawn of the new era, as the cultural and technological achievements of the nation flowed joyously into Ponty.

50,000 people had been successfully transported crowed Transport for Wales in its press release.

But, as the bunting came down in the post-Eisteddfod drizzle, there was another announcement. The new electric trains that had made their debut in the sunshine and public glare of last week’s festivities were to be ‘redeployed’ and replaced by the ones we had before.

Now, there is nothing as wearisome as the tendency of right-wingers to characterise anything to the left of Genghis Khan as ‘Communism’, especially when applied to the wishy-washy liberal tinkering of the body politic here in Wales. You must concede, though, that this has all the hallmarks of the North Korean tourist experience, in which Western visitors are taken to see happy villagers enjoying lavish meals which are confiscated as soon as the tourists leave.

Rumours that public discussion of the bus hub would require offenders to attend struggle meetings at Bronwydd Park are unconfirmed at press time.

Post-pandemic life can often seem like one long rail-replacement bus journey. Our politics is preoccupied with grand, strategic ideas whilst the nuts and bolts of our lived experience seem never to work as they should. This has a real effect on the viability of long-term planning, as support from a continually disappointed populace is difficult to generate.

Magic

Good ideas, like expanding 20mph zones and having a national airport become mired in cynicism because the public contrasts their cost and profile with the invisible misery of their own battles just to get home from work at night.

Grand, transformative visions are what float the egos of politicians. It’s the part of the job that motivates them to put up with criticism and abuse. They are also, though, the fun bit of what they do. Making what we already have function properly is the grunt work: the solid scrum that allows your backline to create magic.

As we head towards the Senedd election, we need to hear from politicians who are motivated to fix our everyday interactions with public services as their driving priority. Every minute spent waiting for a bus, on hold to a GP’s surgery, or trying to find an NHS dentist, drips into a swelling reservoir of common disillusionment with governance in general.