And here the Hennesseys got an early taste of public acclaim. These were the glory days before Cardiffness got into their songs and certainly before half their lyrics turned Cymraeg. Their music was unashamed Irish. It's a flavour that hangs on in Broadway today. Outside The Locomotive someone passes in a car which has all four indicator lights flashing and a woop woop alarm going on under the bonnet.
Nobody takes any notice.
There's not a flicker among the two women with wheeled shopping carts or the Asian family stringing their way along bearing red Kwik-Save carrier bags. When I passed the Oak had an Irish flag flying from one upper window and, rather incongruously, a Canadian one from another. When Alexander Cordell came here researching for his novel about the boxer the locals he spoke to were all certain they'd have cameo roles in the great man's next historical adventure. The Oak is one of Cardiff's best known unreconstructed Brains pubs. It exudes that welcoming dark, smoky, scuff and spit atmosphere which is utterly absent from family pubs and completely alien to the light wood and chrome favoured by drinking's new generation.