Day Trip to Portmeirion, Flashbacks, and the Clue to My Lost Toddlerhood: 3 August 1981

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On 3 August 1981, I went on a mystery trip with my sisters and brother-in-law. What I didn’t know was that the destination was Portmeirion, in North Wales, the location of where the 70s TV series, The Prisoner, starring Patrick McGoohan was filmed.

What no one knew was that I was afflicted with private terror of this ‘thing’ that used to make an appearance in the show.

First, a brief overview of what The Prisoner was about.

Portmeirion, Wales Location of The Prisoner with Patrick Magoohan
Portmeiriron, Wales (Tom Parnell Wikimedia Commons)

The Prisoner Plot

Patrick McGoohan is a secret agent who is abducted from his London apartment to find himself in a sinister seaside village where he is held captive. People from all walks of life appear resigned to living there, allowing a controlling regime to dictate their lives.
 
Residents are known only by numbers; McGoohan is Number Six. Number Six doesn’t know who is an inmate or a guard and therefore can trust no one. ‘Number Two’ (who takes on various identities) heavily monitors Number Six, and Number One remains unseen. Monitoring systems are in place to prevent escape, such as a balloon entity called ‘Rover’ that recaptures or kills escapees.

The First Signs of a Flashback

The first time I saw Rover enclose its victims’ yawning faces within its sickly rubber, unspeakable terror shot through me. This was how Rover disabled its victims. Every time The Prisoner came on TV, I would look out for Rover, scared. I prayed it wouldn’t appear. I was hyper-vigilant to the point of not following the storyline. All I kept looking out for was that hideous balloon.

I felt ashamed. None of my other family members exhibited such terror of a fictional entity. I thought I was a big baby or a sissy, so I kept my fears to myself.

I reasoned that everyone fears suffocation – don’t they? But then, the same applies to falling from a cliff or being stabbed. I didn’t feel the same sick fear when I watched a fictional character falling from a plane without a parachute or bleeding to death.
 
Why didn’t my other family members show the same terror of Rover as I did? What I didn’t know was that my Mum’s half-brother had lived in our cottage in 1968 when I was 3 and he routinely tore my childhood apart. He did it on the sly when no one was around. How I came to unearth the truth behind my intrusive thoughts is explained separately.

The Films Alien and Fantastic Voyage

In the early 70s, I had no explanation for this horrific demon in my head. What else could I do but ignore it? However, I would not escape further triggers from subsequent films and books, too numerous to list here.

But on 28 May 1978, I would watch a Film called Fantastic Voyage about a miniature submarine crew’s journey through the body of a sick man. I felt the same silent terror when I watched the actor Donald Pleasance being overcome by the man’s immune system.
 

How This Day Fits Into the Larger Pattern

Worse was in store on 12 July 1982 when I would see Alien. I had to leave the room when I saw the facehugger clamped over John Hurt’s face. I was stopping at my aunt’s at the time and it ruined my entire holiday.

So on 3 August 1981, I would visit Portmeirion where The Prisoner was filmed. I recall Rover playing on my mind, but thankfully, I didn’t see it that day. I enjoyed the trip but subconsciously I was wary. The following day, I suffered a mysterious stomach cramp and I felt depressed. I had a bad row with Mum.
 
Here is what I wrote verbatim in my diary on the day I went to Portmeirion. There is no mention of my private fear. I couldn't even name it. Scroll to the bottom to see a photo of my diary entry of that day.

Diary entry of 3 August 1981 journal Portmeirion Madeleine Watson
3 Aug 1981: My visit to Portmeirion (misspelled Port Meriden).

My Diary Entry of 3 August 1981

“Ok. No mood. In fact, high (for obvious reasons). Feel well. Sunny early, fine all day. Thick cirrus forms developing (not affecting weather). Dry and mild. Clouded over at noon but bright and mild, cleared to a misty and balmy evening.

Didn’t sleep much this morning. Got up at 6.30am. Got ready to go on a mystery ride out (expecting something like our local park) but we went for ages up to North Wales.
 
Ended up by the seaside! Colwyn Bay area. We went to a village to an exhibition called Portmeirion. It was the (life sized) model village used on the programme The Prisoner. Went on the beach, past a wood (hilly). Saw a lighthouse. Played on the beach etc. (small). Went to a grotty attic. Walked around the village. Had an ice cream with a flake in it. We had lunch when we first visited…Started on our way back. Stopped at a village, had chips. Went the full way back home (about 160-70 miles, 5 hours). Had trouble about sitting on the middle etc. Had radio on in the car.”

Reflection on What Portmeirion Told Me

Port Meriden was one of many chief places where my subconscious stung. I wasn’t ready to hear it in 1981 —I was just sixteen, but the memory would burst through decades later, reshaping everything I thought I knew about myself.

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Intro

Welcome. I’m Madeleine Watson, a writer, artist, diarist and researcher. At the age of 51, I discovered a strange man had lived in my toddlerhood home. He stole my virginity before I had awoken to the world. The year was 1968.

The purpose of this blog is to shed light upon something humanity cannot normally see: a stolen toddlerhood. This blog documents what my life has been like.

My work spans childhood trauma, PTSD, split identity, and twinhood via hard research drawn from decades of personal documentation.

If you’re new here, you can begin with the Start here page, which introduces the prologue leading to the 10‑part series ending with the moment I learned the truth about my toddlerhood. Or you can buy my books .

Thank you for reading.

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