The real Cadwallon?, if you insist.. hmm.
Well, he was a Briton who seems to have lived twice then died in suspicious circumstances whilst passing secrets to the Pope. And if that wasn't enough, he was renamed Peter then laid to rest alongside St Peter in the original Vatican. Subsequently, he was referred to as the twelfth Disciple in the prophesies of Merlin.
Da Vinci decoders - methinks you are on the wrong track!!
Do I have some connection?
Perhaps. The first Cadwallon died about 30 ft from where I was born! And I only found this out a few months ago after I had been researching the guy for several years. Spooooooooky!
Lets calm down, forget about him and share a nice glass of wine. I have some over here - its made from my own grapes using ancient methods and is, well, quite good for - erm -burning out sore throats.
I work in a fort with a moat round it and deal in artificial intelligence. But sometimes I don't feel I have the brains for it. I once learnt Russian but forgot it all later. I need to be near the water, its in my blood. Members of my family have plied their trade in small boats since records began and I'm a throw back (ouch).
Ah, but my life has been somewhat of an adventure so I am hoping the characters who wander round in my head can steal and rework these memories for me.
Oh, and I have 'the invention' - which my partner calls a contraption
- a pension for me, in my dreams.
I guess history and beliefs inspire me and for several,
well ..more actually, years I have solving the puzzle about what 'really' happened when the Romans left. Thats the time when English started its quest for world domination. A slip of the ancient sword then and this piece would have been written in something resembling Welsh.
In an attempt to raise my profile, I wrote a controversial piece about King Arthur for the local paper. Photo wearing my Indy hat. So - half nutcase, you are thinking - which I guess is about half right.
Hoy, ewe intressed in Arfur? well..come ovur ere t' see stuf in mee yaard.. ownur went owt o' bysnuss sudden loik.. goowd qualeetee stuf..orefentik.. promys...
Yes, tales of plunder were told around the hearths of British courts after Arthur's disappearance. The mad short-sighted fools!
'a hundred steeds with silver trappings,
a hundred purple robes of equal span,
a hundred armbands into my lap,
and fifty brooches.
A stone-sheathed sword with buff hilt beyond compare...'
[Translation from early British 'Tzavfganu kynan garwyn']
sords 'ere undur me clowek
...won to troy i' for yursell .
..not iney thowws munkish copeez...
...yea its the reel won awlroit..
..THE sord in the stowen.
. n' oy.. can..pruve it.
Drop me a line any time about anything you like.
You can find me on firstname.lastname@example.org
during the UK day (also IM)