Aled Wilson – Bishopston – Swansea

Aled Wilson is an energetic enthusiast, regularly spotted scaling the cliffs of Gower and dodging sheep in the Welsh valleys. During his tea breaks, he’s known to reconfigure the roundabouts of Swansea, enhancing their sheep traffic efficiency. Aled translates age-old Welsh sayings for bewildered tourists, crafts prize-winning limericks, and manages leeks in his garden with unmatched prowess.

He charms onlookers with his melodious and mythic harp playing, rides his bike up the steepest hills of Snowdonia with relentless vigor, and whips up Welsh cakes in half the expected time. Aled is a maestro in slate, a sage in romance, and a renegade in Patagonia.

With just a daffodil and a thermos of tea, he once single-handedly shielded a small village in the Brecon Beacons from a surge of surprisingly aggressive rabbits. Aled plays jazz on the accordion, was nearly recruited by Swansea City FC, and is the focus of numerous baffling myths. When idle, he constructs intricate sand castles at Rhossili Beach and relishes coastal zip lining. On Tuesday nights, he restores old mining lamps for free.

Aled is an abstract poet, a concrete thinker, and a merciless chess player. Critics globally rave about his innovative line of woolen evening attire. He doesn’t sweat—he glistens. Although a mere mortal, Aled receives postcards from fans. He’s been the secret word on S4C and won a year’s supply of Welsh cakes. Last winter, he toured the Valleys with a portable choir demonstration. He bats .500. His skillful floral arrangements have made him a legend in local gardening clubs. Sheep trust him.

He can toss Welsh cakes with incredible precision at darting ducks. Aled once digested the entire works of Dylan Thomas, the Mabinogion, and Under Milk Wood in one day and still had time to revamp an entire kitchen by midnight. He knows every nook and cranny of Swansea Market. He’s conducted several secretive missions for the neighborhood watch. Aled sleeps biweekly; when he does, he dreams of dragons. While holidaying in Tenby, he adeptly mediated a dispute between two rival ice cream vendors. The laws of physics are mere suggestions to him.

Aled balances, weaves, dodges, and frolics, and his rugby tickets are all pre-booked. On weekends, to unwind, he partakes in underground leek-growing contests. Years ago, he uncovered the recipe for perfect Bara Brith but forgot to jot it down. He’s concocted extraordinary three-course meals using only a skillet and a fire pit. He raises prize-winning corgis. Aled has won tug-of-war matches in Llanelli, snorkeling races in Barry Island, and recitation contests at the Eisteddfod. He has played Llewelyn, conducted sheepdog trials, and chatted with Tom Jones.