Night in Neath.

'Pooh?'

'Yes, Piglet.'

'Take your headphones off and go outside.'

'Might I have to be some time?'

'No, just a minute or so.  Just go out and listen.'

'Righty-ho.'

…….

'Pooh, are you back?'

'Yes.'

'What did you hear?'

'Nothing.'

'Wonderful, isn't it, the silence?'

'I suppose.'

'Makes me want to, oh, I don't know, walk in restless dreams through narrow streets of cobbled stone.'

'Alone, I assume.'

'Only way to tackle a cobbled street, Pooh.'

'Quite.'

'I might even linger 'neath the halo of a street-lamp.'

'Not 'neath the arches?  They'd be warmer.'

'They've fallen, Pooh.'

'Hmm, modern engineering.  I might have known.'

'Though I don't have a collar to turn to the cold and damp.'

'Kanga might have one or two knocking about.'

'Ah, wonderful, I'll give her a ping.'

'Funny line, that, "'neath the halo of a street lamp".'

'Actually, Pooh, it's a bit of a, you know, play-doh on words.'

'I feared it might be.'

'See, it seems to mean just "underneath" but there's more to it than that.'

'Go on. He said. Reluctantly.'

'It's really about where he wrote the song.'

'Is it, now?'

'See, he was playing the folk clubs around Swansea and someone told him about the place to go to in Wales where people are looking for fun and feeling groovy.'

'Oh, really?  Where was that?'

'Blaenau ffestiniog.'

'Bit tricky to slip that into a song.'

'Isn't it?   Though not impossible, I suppose.'

'"Lookin' for ffun and ffeeling--"…no, on second thoughts--".'

'"Hello, Blaenau, what'cha Blae-knowin?  I've come to watch your fflowers"--'

'Give it up, Piglet.'

'Yes, I'd better.  Anyway, he started out for Blaenau but got in a real pickle with the train route.'

'Ah, fell foul of the old Trafnidiaeth Cymru, eh?'

'Pardon?'

'That's Welsh for Welsh, Piglet.'

'I see. Oh, well, diolch, Pooh-bach.'

'Who are you calling a Poo-bah?'

'I'm not--oh, never mind.  Anyway, he wound up spending the night at Neath station.  That's where he wrote the song.  And he wanted the listener to know the town and exact location that inspired him.'

'I don't follow, Piglet.'

'You know, it's like those Agatha Shakespeare whodunits.'

'What, "The Taming of the Shrub" and all that?'

'Exactly.  You know, there's always a line that sets the scene.  Like "Gloucester, the King's camp".'

'I always thought that was someone telling Gloucester that the King--'

'No, no, no, Pooh.  Place, Gloucester.  Precise place, the King's camp.'

'Ah.'

'Ah?'

'Ah.'

'So there it is.  Neath.  The halo of a street lamp.'

'Well, I never.  Bit rum, though.'

'What?'

'Spending the whole night alone at Neath station.'

'Well, there was a young lady--'

'You're breaking up, Piglet.'