OILY FEATHERS CLASSIC CARS AT ST.DONAT’S CASTLE 24th August 2021 On an idyllic summer morning, eleven mostly topless cars, and twenty two drivers and their navigators, congregated to collect their route notes and map, for a two and a half hour drive from Chepstow Garden Centre. A skilful route had been devised by Bill Phillips assisted by his wife Jenny. Without touching the M4, we started by keeping close to the Bristol Channel. We drove along sparsely inhabited flatlands, with closed pubs of yesteryear and horses tethered on roadside common land. Negotiating the Newport ring road, we were delighted to pass under the historic Transporter Bridge, recently closed for major refurbishment, otherwise we would have been on it! Nearing Cardiff outskirts, we were treated to signs warning of Slag Overhead, but not to worry, as the entire works are in demolition mode. This is reminiscent of the Rust Bucket part of the USA, vast corrugated iron buildings being prised apart for scrap, alongside working railway sidings. Onwards past the airport and into lovely countryside again, and after two and a quarter hours the entrance to St. Donat’s Castle quietly emerged on a corner of a leafy lane. We were welcomed and directed down the long multi-humped, tree-lined drive to our parking area. By now the sun was strong, and shade was scarce for those of us nursing hot running cars with bonnets thrown open. Although Bill’s briefing about the photo shoot was unusually brief, it turned out to be anything but. Instead of all cars lined up with a Castle background, we individually went through the outer Castle Gate, which we learnt had been demolished by a bin lorry, and rebuilt. Then we turned around to have the Portcullis Tower behind us so that Mike Burmester could photograph car, driver and navigator. My offer of a garden kneeler was given short shrift in order to include the top of the Tower by our worthy tall photographer.
Having parked our cars, we entered the impressive castellated outer walls through the substantial Portcullis Tower with a timber portcullis looking ready for action. Our walk went under another tower and then into a small lawned quadrangle bordered with flowers and quaint houses. On entry to the reception hall we were amazed by the height of the ornate ceiling, walk-in fireplace and arches along one side with glass in-filling. We flopped onto the comfortable furniture before following the guide to an immense hall, like a monastic refectory, with a vast inverted birthday cake ceiling high above.
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