Elvis and the battle for Porthcawl

Only in Porthcawl will you hear the words “Elvis will die if the council has its way.” The King has skin in this corner of South Wales. Some even claim the name Presley is an anglicisation of the country’s ancient Preseli Hills. Who knows if that’s true? 

Regardless, at some point, from somewhere, Elvis’s ancestors sailed to the New World to find a new life. Years later, the King was born, saw out his reign, and died on the throne. 

There is something poetic in the fact that he returns from the dead each year and appears not in Las Vegas or Palm Springs, but in a seaside town for his namesake festival. Porthcawl has hosted the Elvis Festival since 2004, when it was created to raise money and save the town’s historic Grand Pavilion theatre. 

It succeeded, and ever since then, 40,000 Elvis enthusiasts have descended on Porthcawl to bask in the King’s glory every year. And yet. While thousands crowd the bars, and reporters and photographers make their annual pilgrimage to capture the wild and the wacky, few pay any attention to the simmering despair that is rife here. 

Local people are certain that he risks dying all over again. This time, the culprit isn’t prescription drugs or constipation or a life lived fast with even faster food. The accused is Bridgend County Borough Council (BCBC).

At the turn of the century, the Labour-run authority devised an ambitious regeneration project. This eventually led to a 2021 masterplan which, after several alterations following public consultations, now proposes 980 housing units, along with new leisure attractions, parks and recreational spaces along the town’s prized waterfront. “We want Porthcawl to evolve, not stagnate and stand still,” a council spokesperson tells me. A final decision on the matter will be taken on 9 December.

No one denies Porthcawl needs a lick of paint. For all its charms, the town has been left to rust. You wouldn’t notice it at first glance. Unlike other seaside towns, Porthcawl is an outlier. It doesn’t have a violent crime problem, drug crisis or much in the way of anti-social behaviour. Volunteer groups work tirelessly to keep its beach, shrubs and streets spotless.

And yet, what was historically a place of community has become steeped in tribalism, fear-mongering and a sense of hopelessness. The King, ordinarily a unifying figure, is fighting hard to keep this town together. Caught in a trap, suspicious minds are pervasive, indeed. 

“I can tell you now: it will destroy this town,” Steve Maitland Thomas says before we exchange pleasantries. An independent councillor for one of the town’s wards, he is leading the charge against the regeneration project with a zest that belies his 71 years.