Blaenavon lies in the heart of a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Blaenavon Industrial Landscape, 13 godforsaken square miles of proof that the UN has a messed up sense of humour. If you find yourself here then you’re probably lost and are about to play a bit part in a real life slasher movie. However, in the unlikely event you survive longer than the first 5 minutes, you’ll be wondering what to do.
Pit Museum Hole
Well whoopdeedoo with bells on you’re in luck, Blaenavon has a hole!!! The official name is the “Big Pit National Coal Museum”, a former working coal mine that closed in 1980 and transformed into a tourist attraction. Throughout the third world men, women, and children are desperately seeking an escape from the mines but not in Blaenavon, oh no, these genetically deficient idiots can’t wait to jump back in. You can wander around a few decrepit buildings, stuffed full of old black & white photographs of miserable [email protected] in hard hats, overalls and blackface. After this excitement then its into the hole you go, whoopee! The tour takes a goddamn hour and the “highlight” is when everyone is asked to turn off their head torches to demonstrate the complete darkness. “We’re hundreds of feet down a big hole and it’s dark? Well **** me sideways I’m so shocked I can hardly stand”. Then it’s back to the surface where you can look out over the town once more. Confronted with this sight vomiting is common, as is eye-gouging, wrist-cutting and self-immolation.
Blaenavon Ironworks Hole
A few foolhardy souls choose to risk their sanity by venturing deeper into this troglodyte ******** sh*t-pit to seek out other “attractions”. Hope is seductive mistress who can lead the unwary traveller astray…….. or they’re simply gullible. Blaenavon Ironworks was built in the late 18th century and lies in a shallow hole consisting of crumbling furnaces, hollowed out warehouses and a row of houses. This monstrosity belched out smoke, sulphur and who-the-hell knows what for more than a century, choking every poor sod who ever laid eyes on it. Yet today, their numb skulled, web footed, bug-eyed descendants celebrate the cancer inducing edifice as an attraction. The only noteworthy feature is the houses that have been preserved look better than the actual town.
Garn Lakes Hole
After visiting the miniature Chernobyl you’ll probably fancy some fresh air, so why not have a quiet picnic up at Garn Lakes? Whilst enjoying the peace and the “natural” beauty try to ignore the fact that you’re actually sat on the edge of a man made hole (spotted a theme, yet?) dug out of old **** heaps, filled with water, and a sh*tload of grass seeds. It’s akin to a giant smouldering t*rd liberally sprinkled with glitter, but don’t let that put you off your food. And that’s about it. An unknown c*ckwomble of truly biblical proportions once had the bright idea to develop Blaenavon as a “Book Town”, mankind has seldom sunk to such depths of stupidity. Firstly, they somehow overlooked that Hay-on-Wye, with its many bookshops and world famous festival, is only 25miles away. Secondly, bookshops are of little use in a town where most of the cave dwellers can’t read and writing is performed on stone tablets. That it was a failure surprised abso-*******-lutely no one.
Into the Heart of Darkness
Now it’s time to venture into Blaenavon itself. You’ll be reminded of the scene in Jurassic Park where they first enter the park, the advice is similar too. Never leave the Jeep and remember that their vision is based on movement. Familiarise yourself with the terrain, there is no level ground, everything is on a “f-me that’s steep” hill. This, combined with their compulsive need to burrow, means that many of their nests are either subsiding or falling into holes (If you haven’t spotted the theme by now you’re probably a native). How can a town populated by chubbywubbyfatf**ks fail to grasp the theory of gravity? Blaenavon has roads, surprisingly, however navigation is arduous and dangerous. The Highway Code has yet to reach this wasteland, understandable in a place where electricity is still viewed with suspicion, the language is slightly different too. Example: “only a fool breaks the two second rule” will translate as “Only a **** tailgates the car in front”. When the amoeboid-like drivers cross paths, they WILL stop in the middle of the road to offer a primitive form of greeting, at times like these patience is a virtue as I can guarantee your horn will be of no use.
The Blaenavon gene puddle is limited and family trees don’t exist, a small shrubbery is the best one can hope for, often it’s little more than a sapling. Despite this palaeontologists have observed 2 distinct species of local. Female (Megaphatass andrex sp.) and Male (Penus onacranium sp.)
??????????? ?????? is considered aggressive, particularly when feeding, but can be approached with caution. Communication is difficult, their English is limited, but not impossible. Recent studies have shown a negative response to words such as “?????” “?????????????” or “?????????”. Conversely, “?????” “?????” and “????????” have a yielded a more positive outcome.
????? ?????????? is considered more docile and will often approach your jeep, he may try to communicate. “??????? ??????” Some form of greeting perhaps or he might be looking for a bacon sandwich. Experience has shown that a smile and wave will placate the beast. “???’? ?? ???????” He sees you as a potential mate, lock all doors and stay perfectly still. “??? ??? ?????” He will see you after he has impregnated his sister.
Saturday night mating ritual
The adventurous traveller, or just anyone with a death wish, can observe the Saturday night mating ritual. A noisy, brutal and harrowing spectacle, the mating ritual begins with copious amounts of white cider, yelling, arguing and fist throwing. ????? ?????????? will then strip to his Y-fronts and stagger into the middle of street. He will present a gift of curry & chips to ??????????? ??????, he must make sure she is fully fed or she will consume him after mating. He may partake in projectile vomiting to speed up the mating process, this excites ??????????? ?????? and she will also projectile vomit to show him her willingness to mate, copulation may now begin. Copulation may take place in the nest but it may also occur in doorways, bus stops, parks, anywhere they can think of.
And there you have it, the full Blaenavon safari experience. Hopefully this entire wretched, stinking, backward sewer of life will disappear down one of the many holes. On second thoughts, it won’t do much good, as history has shown it’ll just become another tourist attraction…