Sir, 'Oh to be in little England' - with apologies to Robert Browning. The drive within me to go became stronger. I had not been 'home' for so long and I had dreamt of familiar hills, trees and the sea. It's a funny feeling with spoonfuls of nostalgia, portions of emotion all creating a distinct lump in my throat. The decision made, no need of maps or route plans; every bend, hillside or valley was welcoming me and reassuring that my world continued. Arriving in my locality, everything was as I remembered, cottages, woodland and lanes were the same. And yet something was different, unsettling, almost threatening. It was so obvious when I thought about it. Nearly all of the old cast iron signposts had disappeared, being replaced by larger reflective sheets. More concerning was the fact that they offered the old familiar placenames underneath strange sounding names in another tongue. If I was standing in a country that had been overrun by another with the natives expected to speak in another language it would be understandable if not acceptable. But this is Wales! What is so strange about this? After all Welsh is the national language. The difference is that my home happens to be in south Pembrokeshire - often called 'Little England beyond Wales'. Believe me, my neighbours and myself are fanatically and emotionally Welsh as any other part of the country. We would support the Welsh rugby team and sing the Welsh national anthem as fervently as any. We are as proud of Bryn Terfyl and as much in love with Catherine Jones as any in the Welsh valleys. But we don't speak Welsh! The historians named a distinct demarcation line along South Pembrokeshire as the 'Landsker Line', south of which we have spoken various degrees of Anglo Saxon, French and Latin for over a thousand years and many of our placenames reflect that. We are proud of our history which is an important facet of Welsh culture, and I would like it preserved - hence my unease at the roadsigns. While I was visiting, I followed my interest in education. When I was a young schoolboy I was given the choice of French or Welsh as a language, and as Britain had just become a member of the Common Market I chose French. Currently, all secondary school children have to attend lessons in Welsh until the age of 16, with no choice. Even worse, all teachers, I am told, must either speak or be prepared to learn Welsh. This could mean I would not be allowed to teach in my own village in a very English speaking school unless I accepted the laws of the land. As a young Grammar School boy, it was possible to look over the school wall to the station to watch with fascination the summer excursion trains from the Welsh valleys unloading their expectant horde, the mothers wrapping their babies in all-surrounding shawls and speaking Welsh in their 'sing song' voices. A lesson to us that there was more to our country than our own little 'acre'. At the same time we valued our own unique and precious culture. I wondered how my long term neighbours felt about the changes that appeared so apparent to me. Well to be honest, they were not at all bothered, even if they were aware of the situation. Television continues to be important and they continue to complain if there are too many Welsh speaking programmes, preferring to switch to other channels. Generally all felt it was good to promote the Welsh language, but preferably somewhere else. So much for actively learning the language. People are philosophical about the Welsh written placenames and respect those who actively promote the language while they themselves remained proudly intent upon continuing as their forefathers had done. A thousand years along the 'Landsker Lline' is not likely to dissipate in the near future. I have chosen not to live in my homeland and have perhaps no right to pass judgement. Yet I feel that our heritage within such a beautiful land needs a raising of profile, if only to add to such a diverse little country. Fortunately the trees and cliffs and the sea remain constant, whatever the language. MikeWilliams,

Hartington Gardens, Buxton.