Andy’s Thought Dump

By a proud Merthyr boy with big hopes for his hometown.   Merthyr Tydfil has always been a place of strength, resilience, and community spirit. We’re a town built on coal and steel, fire and grit, and while times have changed, our passion for a better future has never faded. That’s why I, like many others, am incredibly excited about the proposed Rhydycar West project – a game - changing development that could transform not just Merthyr, but bring benefits to the whole of Wales. For too long, Merthyr has been overlooked, underfunded, and underestimated. We’ve weathered closures, job losses, and reputational knockbacks – but we’ve never lost that fierce pride. Projects like Rhydycar West give us the hope and ambition we’ve been crying out for. It’s time we had a big win. And this, in my opinion, is it.  What Is Rhydycar West. ?  If you haven’t heard yet – and you really should have – the Rhydycar West development is a massive £300 million proposal that includes: An indoo...

Hey everyone, First off, I just want to say a heartfelt sorry for the quiet spell on here lately. I know it’s been a while since my last post, and if you’ve been checking in and wondering where I’ve gone – thank you for your patience. Truth is, my health’s taken a bit of a dive. My illnesses have really hit me for six, and I’ve been focusing on just getting through the days. It’s been rough, both physically and mentally, and I’ve had to press pause on most things – including writing. I didn’t want to disappear without saying anything, but it’s taken me some time to get the energy (and headspace) to sit and type this out. I miss being here, sharing things with you all, and having that little corner of connection. I’m still not 100%, but I’m slowly finding my way back. Thanks again for sticking with me – it means more than I can say. I’ll be back with more posts soon, and I’ve got plenty I want to share when I can. Take care of yourselves and each other. Andy

Standing Up for Children While the World Looks the Other Way. In 2022, Zoe and I opened our home to my two children after they were formally removed from their birth mother’s care by social services. For legal reasons, I must be clear: this post does not allege criminal guilt. Any names referenced are used only where public documentation exists or where individuals have already self-identified publicly in connection to this situation. Certain details have been withheld due to ongoing investigations. That said, facts matter. The local authority removed the children from a home environment deemed unsafe. The birth mother acknowledged concerns in meetings with social services. While the police investigation is ongoing, no formal charges have yet been brought to our knowledge - but we continue to fully cooperate, and we sincerely hope action is taken to protect all children involved. Zoe and I stepped up - not because we had to, but because it was the right thing to do. We’ve taken the...

I don’t watch the news anymore. It's mostly noise - full of shouting, bias, and propaganda. You rarely get truth, just angles. Instead, I watch live streams. Real-time footage . I’ve seen buildings crumble, people scream, lives lost - not through headlines, but through the raw lens of someone’s phone camera as missiles fall from the sky. And every time, I ask myself the same question: Why are we still doing this? Why, in 2025, are we still spilling blood over a piece of land, a line on a map, a flag, a grudge? How are we still this broken ? It honestly crushes me. Innocent people are dying  - kids, parents, families who never wanted to be part of any war. People whose only “crime” was being born in the wrong place at the wrong time. They're not soldiers. They're humans. It feels like brains are lacking. With all the intelligence we claim to have, why haven’t we evolved past this? W e have artificial intelligence, quantum computers , the ability to look billions of lig...

Before anyone groans and says “FFS not another Barry Island idea”  - yes. Yes it is. Because once again, I’ve had a thought (dangerous, I know), and this one’s got potential to bring in a crowd the size of a Pokémon Go launch day. Minecraft. That’s right. The blocky little game that somehow conquered the world. I don’t get it. I’ve tried. To me, it’s just squares. Endless squares. Punching trees, building odd houses, being chased by green things that hiss. Makes no sense. But I’ll tell you who does get it - my two boys. One is 10, the other is 19, and they both absolutely love it. Same game, same joy, nearly a decade apart. That’s not just a phase, that’s a phenomenon. And yet - I’ve never seen a Minecraft Festival or Convention . Not in Wales, not in the UK, not anywhere really (and if they exist, they’re hidden better than diamonds in the Nether -or I havent looked properly). So why not hold one right there on Barry Island? Think about it: They have got the space. Serio...

Let’s talk about The Mountain Air in Tredegar. If you know, you know. And if you don’t know – well, let me paint you a picture, because this isn’t just a pub or a restaurant to me, it’s an experience. A damn good one. From the moment you walk through the doors, there’s something about the place that just feels right . It’s got that perfect blend of cosy and welcoming – you’re greeted with smiles, warm lighting, and the scent of something absolutely mouthwatering drifting out of the kitchen. I’ve been to plenty of pubs in South Wales and beyond, but I keep coming back to The Mountain Air for one simple reason: it’s the best. Hands down. The atmosphere ? Spot on. It’s buzzing without being too loud, chilled without being dead, and friendly without feeling forced. You can go in on your own and feel at ease, or go in with a group and feel right at home. The staff ? Absolutely fantastic. Every single time we’ve visited – and trust me, it’s not just once or twice – we’ve been looked aft...

I’m going to say something that most of us living it already know: being ill or disabled in this country feels like a crime. And the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP)? They’re not just the judge - they’re the jury, the executioner, and the smug bloke behind the glass watching you squirm. It’s like being stuck in a game show, only the prize is humiliation and a migraine. I’m on PIP. Not because I want to be - believe me, I’d give anything to not need it - but because I have to be. My list of conditions isn’t just a checklist, it’s my reality: Fibromyalgia (yeah, go on, scoff  -  now try living with it), FND, Arthritis, Degenerative Disc Disease, Severe sleep aponea, Chronic Fatigue and C-PTSD. Each one brings its own lovely brand of chaos and pain, and every day’s a challenge just to keep functioning. And yet, despite that, it’s people like me who are treated like con artists. The DWP treat us with suspicion, like we’re all auditioning for some Oscar-winning disability a...

Before we had a car at the end of 2020, we relied heavily on buses to get about. Back then, they weren’t perfect - timekeeping was questionable at best - but at least they showed up, most of the time. You could get where you needed to go, maybe with a bit of a wait, but it was doable. Since then though? The service has nose-dived. Now it’s like a game of public transport roulette, and most of the time, you lose. We went on a night out a couple of weeks ago - a rare event these days - and thought we’d be sensible, leave the car at home, and take the bus. Only to discover the last bus home was just after 20:30 . Seriously? 8:30pm is now considered “late” enough to stop running buses? I remember when I used to work in Cardiff, I’d catch a bus at around 22:15 - maybe later - and it’d get me to my stop before carrying on to Tredegar and eventually back to base. And I’m pretty sure there was another bus after that. That route is run by Stagecoach, and like every other private operator, th...

Every now and then, you get an idea that just fits  - and this is one of them. Picture this: it’s August, the middle of the six-week holidays, and Barry Island is buzzing. There’s music in the air, shoulder pads on the prom, leg warmers on the beach, and the unmistakable sound of Cher belting out “If I Could Turn Back Time” across the seafront. Welcome to Back to Barry - The 80s Weekender. A full weekend every summer dedicated to the best decade of music, style, and good times. Think live tribute acts, classic 80s tunes on the speakers, neon everywhere, and people coming together to celebrate all things retro - all with the Barry Island charm we know and love. What’s the vibe? We’re talking: Live music and tribute acts performing the best of Bon Jovi, Whitney, Madonna, Queen, Michael Jackson, Duran Duran, Cyndi Lauper, and more. 80s fancy dress – dig out that old shell suit, go full glam rock, or recreate your best New Romantic look. Pop-up food and drink stalls wi...

You may not know it yet (but you will very soon), I’ve been working on a little idea for a full-blown 1980s festival on Barry Island — think synths, shell suits, and shoulder pads. That post is coming shortly, so keep your neon leg warmers handy. But while I was plotting that glittery madness, another thought hit me: What if Barry Island didn’t just dip its toe in the nostalgia pool, what if it cannonballed right in? Elvis Has Left the Building, So Let’s Invite Him to Barry With Porthcawl’s famous Elvis Festival facing uncertainty due to planned seafront redevelopment in 2027, now’s the time to ask: Why shouldn’t Barry Island step up and take over? I’m not saying it’s booked. I’m saying it should be . Even as someone who’s not an Elvis superfan or fan in any way, I get it - the guy is a cultural icon. The festival brings people together, it celebrates music and memory, and let’s be honest, Barry Island would absolutely rock it. Why Barry Makes Perfect Sense Barry Island has: :D...

Some people come into your life by pure chance, and some stay in it by pure loyalty. That’s exactly how I’d sum up my mate Phil. We first crossed paths back in 2014 on the Renault Owners Club Facebook page. I had a Megane at the time, and Phil was the proud owner of a Scenic. Just two blokes chatting about their cars online - nothing unusual, really. But somehow, that random conversation turned into a genuine, lifelong friendship. From day one, we just clicked. No drama, no egos, just an instant mutual respect and shared sense of humour. What started as a few casual posts and comments quickly evolved into proper chats, and before I knew it, Phil had become one of the most important people in my life. In the years that followed, we’ve been through a lot - separately and together. Life hasn’t always been easy, but Phil has always been there. Not just on the good days, when it’s easy to be someone’s mate, but on the tough ones too. When things got heavy, when I didn’t know where to turn...

 Alright, hear me out for a second. You know that bit at the end of Barry Island train station? The scruffy patch with weeds, broken fences, and the tunnel that looks like it leads straight into a horror movie? Yeah, that bit. Now imagine stepping off the train and instead of thinking, “Blimey, bit grim down there,” you hear music playing, smell fresh doughnuts, see stalls all lined up selling everything from handmade crafts to vintage tees, old vinyl, street food that makes your belly growl, and some local legend selling Welsh cakes out of a converted camper van. Imagine that. Open-air market. Right there. At the end of the line. It wouldn’t take much. The railway’s gone. That tunnel’s not bringing a train through again unless Doctor Who’s filming. So let’s make it useful. Let’s make it exciting. Something different. Something ours . You could have local makers, food vans, kids with lemonade stands, old timers selling antique bits, someone with a dog in sunglasses - all of ...

It’s hard to put into words why Barry Island means so much to me - but I’ll try. Because for me, it’s not just a seaside town. It’s memories, people, love, laughter, and heartbreak. It’s a part of my soul. People may wonder why I’m talking about making Barry Island better - especially when I’m from Merthyr Tydfil. And don’t worry, I’ve got plenty to say about my home town too. But I want to start here. I want to write about Barry first. Because this place gave me some of the most treasured moments of my life. It's the backdrop to my earliest memories, the setting of joy and sorrow, and now, the place I get to pass those memories on to my own children. My first memory of Barry Island is etched in my mind like it happened yesterday. I was in the back of our red Datsun Cherry, my dad at the wheel, Madonna’s Holiday playing on the radio. We were heading to Barry Butlins, and as we drove through the gates, the smell of hot dogs hit me like magic. That sweet, salty smell carried the p...

Picture this: families piling off excursion trains, coffee in hand from a charming local café inside the old station building. Platforms bustling, Barry Island buzzing. Sounds like a dream, right? Well — we’re only three platforms and a bit of ambition away. Let’s talk about Barry Island station It should be a key gateway — but right now? It’s operating at about 33% of its potential. That’s not a statistic — that’s a cry for help. Platform 1 is the one we all use now  Platform 2 sits unused because it needs track relaying. Platform 3 is too short for longer excursion trains, fenced off from Platform 2 like they’re not even mates, despite being two sides of the same island platform. All three are physically connected. If you’re on one, you’re seconds away from the others. And they all have access to the station entrance - so this isn’t a complicated rebuild. It’s mostly a matter of willpower and investment. So what should we do? Here’s the dream - and it’s not that ...

There’s this idea I’ve had for a while now, and it just keeps circling in my head every time I pass the old harbour at Barry Island. Right now, it’s dead space. A patch of unused land tucked between the beach, the bridges, and the car park, forgotten and full of potential. And I can’t help but think: why are we letting that land sit there doing nothing when it could be helping to bring jobs, tourism, and money into the area? Imagine filling it in - literally. Level the land and turn it into a proper holiday park. Static caravans, lodges, maybe even chalets. Not some huge resort that swallows the Island whole, just a well-planned holiday complex that fits naturally into the landscape. Barry already gets its fair share of day-trippers when the sun’s out, but what if we gave them a reason to stay the weekend or the whole week? The location makes so much sense. Right by the sea. Walking distance to the beach, the fairground, the cafés, the railway. It’s all there - we’re just not using ...