They've mashed the Red House
But they can't mash my memories
How people met there in the summertime
Mums and kids with lemonade and lollypops
And a Double Diamond for Dad
How old boys used to prop up the red wall
Behind great pipes and clouds of St Julian
As hordes of female cyclists
Came up from who cares where
In white shimmering shirts and shorts
Showing large expanses of leg and thigh
Which made the old boys take their pipes
From their mouths as they
Filled their eyes and remembered
Before the cycle club swept onward
Through the subway into Penarth
How the high tide came up to the sea wall
Where I sat with Sandra in the sunlight
As we shared Woodbines and Wilfred Owen
And a bottle of Walker's whisky
While the water lapped beneath our feet
And the cool salt breeze blew
On her make up free face and bare legs
Which tangled with mine over the embankment
How later we walked back to the flat
This time to share coffee Sasoon and sleep
They've mashed the Red House
But they can't mash my memories.
Terry Lee - 2006
your comments
Mark Jenkins Lisvane Cardiff
My fondest memories of the Red House was a night with the talented late Gwyn Jenkins, a Cardiff folk and blues guitarist and singer. Gwyn was on a mission to save the Red House from demolition and revitalise Cardiff Bay with the sound of blues music, which he called 'Blues in the Bay'. Gwyn spent his last days of his career singing at the Red House - in fact I saw his last preformance there before his illness prevented him from carrying on with what he loved most. I'm sure if Gwyn could have kept going he may have saved the Red House from destruction.
Leona Tudor, Penarth
I have fond memories of the the Red House pub. My nan Sylvia Tudor played the piano there for many years and every weekend I would visit her caravan by the yacht club, and often sit outside the Red House with a lemonade. In a way I am glad my nan isn't here to see the changes on Ferry Road. A part of history has gone with her.
Peter Green, Pinetown, South Africa
I used to love the Red House and back when my mom died I got my brother Billy to take me there for a pint There was a kid's party going on in the other side of the pub and we were offered snacks then the hostess recognised my brother and asked what happened to me? He pointed straight at me and said there he is he's been in South Africa for 20 yrs We were in the same class at St Joe's on Whichurch Rd she used to live in 'the yardings' off North Road.
Peter Finch, Cardiff
I'm researching the history of the loved and lost Red House and the entire Ferry Road peninsula. This is for a proposed Red House memorial. I'd love to hear from anyone who drank at the pub, especially those who did so during the past 20 years or so. Check www.peterfinch.co.uk or leave your comments here.
Brian Stephens - Penarth
I used to cycle past the Red House on my way to work in Spillers Roath Dock. At high tide this was quite an adventure when the wind would blow the waves into a spray and then illegally hanging on the tail board of a lorry going up Ferry Road, hoping the cycle wheels wouldn't get caught in the railway lines crossing the road. Years later my wife and I would go down there to the pub for a pie and a drink. Isn't it dreadful when you think of that sort of thing and realise that skyscrapers will dominate the view from now on? It's all a monument to greed.
Terry Lee pays tribute to a famous pub, now demolished.
