One summer’s evening in 1979, I went to see a local band play in a fashionably anarchic music venue. It was called ‘The Casablanca Club’ and it lay deep within Cardiff’s dockland. The band was called ‘Victimize’, and they were archetypal, angry and viperous punks who eventually followed careers in silk screen printing, building and fire fighting. Rebellion has a shelf life like everything else.

I saw one of the band members Bryn Merrick making a brief reunion with ‘The Damned’ last December but that’s not part of this story.

‘Victimize’ were exciting enough for a suburban softie like me to venture into an unfamiliar part of the city. After the gig, sweaty and energised, I found myself in the “wrong part of town”.

Every city has one, and at the time, parts of Cardiff Docks had a menacing reputation. I remember the fear I felt. Eyes followed me, shadows moved, and I discovered that adrenaline can add at least 5mph to your running speed if you need it to.

Thirty years later, on another balmy evening, my musical tastes having mellowed a little, I went to see ‘The Sound Of Music’ at the Wales Millennium Centre, surrounded by much sought after metropolitan apartment blocks and fine dining of all descriptions.

All this was within 50 yards of where I had been terrified witless all those years before. Therein lies the tale of Cardiff’s rapid and astounding transformation.

Cardiff Docks, now Cardiff Bay, has changed from pantomime villain to Prince Charming. It is a family centre, a home for local government and a smorgasbord of entertainment.

Just before the First World War this was the busiest coal port in the world, and with over 10 million tons came a transient seafaring population who put down roots to establish the now varied multicultural population, adding to the city’s vibrant cosmopolitan outlook.

On the negative side, it gained a reputation for crime and shadowy goings on that it has largely since shed.

Every city has been upgraded or even rebuilt to some extent, but Cardiff’s restyling has been particularly fast. The Old National Stadium, home to numerous happy days for Welsh in the 1970’s, was built, used and bulldozed all within 30 years. The National Ice Rink was defrosted after only twenty.

Only in a paradoxical city like ours could we see buildings wiped out while the paint was still drying and still call a 103 year old cultural centre The ‘New’ Theatre.

Rugby and its free spending travelling support has certainly played a major part. The seven years that the FA spent rebuilding Wembley was a multi-million pound windfall which benefited hotels, restaurants and the city’s whole infrastructure.

Major finals decamped to Cardiff, where fans enjoyed the benefits of a centrally located stadium and a famous match day atmosphere – newcomers can experience this for the first time when the autumn internationals start in a few weeks.

We had cricket fans dressed as bananas heaping praise on the city in July and local cricket community hopes that they will be back bringing more sunshine and spending money with them.

The reflected glory of next year’s Ryder Cup just a dozen or so miles away in Newport will be the next really big influx, and this time the audience will be global.

The ‘Casablanca’ was not the only place for live music but there weren’t too many others; in the seventies ‘Grannies’ was above ‘The Philharmonic’ and played host to the more radical bands, while the more mainstream performed at ‘The Top Rank’. The Velvet Underground never played there but they would have loved the irony – it was a smooth, mirrored subterranean world that once played host to The Specials, Madness and The Selecter all on the same bill.

‘The Capitol’ was another other famous venue. It cost the equivalent of 47p to see ‘The Beatles’ 45 years ago this month. Spare it a thought the next time you walk past ‘Accessorize’ on Queen Street.

Sentimentality needs to be kept in the context of inevitable progress. While every honest drinker will be on the side of that great Victorian boozer ‘The Vulcan’ and will support the fight to prolong its 156 year life, even the most enthusiastic consumer of real ale would concede that development around it, including the University of Glamorgan’s impressive Atrium, has brought wealth and investment.

Most recently, the list of great Cardiff historical retailing figures like James Howells, Evan Roberts and David Morgan has been added to by the biggest and grandest of them all – John Lewis and his 4 floors and 280,000 square feet of retail opportunities. Never knowingly undersold, and definitely never understated.

The shopping has been provided for the growing population and ever widening catchment area. Over 10% of this figure will be students from the city’s three universities, and there are dozens of pubs and clubs to help you get through your funding faster than intended. Competition hopefully brings quality, and we will leave binge drinking for another day.

Without a doubt, this all makes for a positive story about the city that will be a stopping off point for many reading this and for lucky ones like me a permanent home, despite the odd blemish.

Surely, some traditional icons from the past are worth sacrificing for our modern, well equipped and opportunity-laden capital. If nostalgia ever gets the better of you, buy a Clark’s pie, find a seat in the Castle grounds and think again.

As students and appreciators of the city we have the best of both worlds, new and old. Throughout the tumultuous changes around us, Cardiff University has remained constant, beating off the progressive tide.

It has been extended and modernised but if John Viriamu Jones came back to check on how we were all doing, he would walk out into Alexandra Park and know exactly where he was, which was more than I could say when I walked out of John Lewis’ front door.