I've always fancied myself as a bit of a karaoke king. I like to warm up my audience with a brisk trot through Iggy Pop's Lust For Life and leave them hungry for more with a soaring rendition of David Bowie's Young Americans. Indeed, friends have told me that my grand finale - a blistering encore of Elvis's The Wonder Of You - has left them close to tears. I guess the emotion of the occasion must just have been too much.
But take away the Guinness and the shouts of encouragement and I'm alone, naked and tone-deaf on a makeshift stage with poor range, worse pitch and a repertoire of lager-fuelled sing-alongs.
If I'm ever to make the leap from pub singer to someone who can genuinely hold a note in public then I'll need some intensive coaching. Step forward Eleanor Madoc Davies, owner of Cwm-moel, the best little singing school B&B in all Wales.
Wales is synonymous with a strong music-making culture - from the small village folk festivals that make up local eisteddfods to the Manic Street Preachers selling out the Millennium Stadium. Even today, about 200 male voice choirs practise in the back rooms of pubs each week, nurturing a sense of community through song that has been long lost in most places across the UK.
Cwm-moel, a 17th-century stone farmhouse set among the streams and hills of the Edw valley in mid-Wales, is filled with music - from the transcripts of traditional Welsh folk songs on the music stand to the Aled Jones CDs in the lounge.
For the casual weekender, it offers all the usual comforts of a traditional family-run B&B experience: long walks in the spectacular countryside of the Black Mountains, great home cooking using local organic produce and the tranquillity of country living.
But for the wannabe Pop Idol and downright curious alike, Eleanor, the proprietor, also offers guests a chance to gather around the piano in her music room in order to have sweet music coaxed from straining vocal chords. A former music teacher and conductor, Eleanor studied at the Royal College of Music in London. Today, she still teaches local children and helps out with community singing projects. Complete beginners, such as myself, are welcome to join the formal one-on-one classes.
"I really do believe it is possible to get a tune out of the most tone-deaf guest with a few hours of hard practice," she smiles as we talk about my previous experience of music over a cup of tea in her parlour. But by then, of course, she had yet to overhear my low nasal whine mumbling its way through a few bars of Bob Dylan's It's All Over Now, Baby Blue while I unpacked my things into one of the seven comfortable but unfussy bedrooms, complete with TV, coffee-making facilities and a private bathroom.
"I like a challenge," she says, through a fixed smile.
The next morning starts with the post-breakfast pep talk. The keys to vocal training, Eleanor explains, are good posture and proper breathing. So, after some warm-up exercises designed to stretch my neck muscles and some deep breathing aimed at expanding the lungs, we start with a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday by way of a warm-up.
"Now, open your mouth wide. I want them to be able to hear you over the other side of the hill," Eleanor says, as I try to strike the correct "relaxed" pose - hands by my sides, head up - yet feeling desperately self-conscious in the process.
"Don't be shy. Just centre yourself and imagine you are being held upright from a string in the top of your head," she encourages.
The first morning's session is all about assessment. My slaughtering of a couple of jaunty Welsh folk tunes suffices to determine that I need to work on my pitch.
We break for a meal of soup followed by organic lamb, served with fresh vegetables and washed down with potent, home-made cider. As I stroll around the adjoining family-run farm, my inner Tom Jones is fair bursting to get out. Still, Eleanor insists, I need discipline and practice to ensure I start hitting the rights notes rather than mauling the sounds that are coming from my diaphragm.
To help provide me with some inspiration, I am invited to sit in on a lesson with her niece, 24-year-old Kelly Evans. Currently studying for the finals of a music degree at Cardiff University, she performs Pie Jesu from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Requiem and a collection of Schubert's Leider with professional aplomb.
The valleys are, for once that day, genuinely filled with the sound of sweet music and my Elvis medley is suddenly shown up to be more cabaret pub singer than top-of-the-bill Las Vegas. Caesar's Palace, it seems, will have to wait.
"Kelly has a natural talent that she has developed through sheer hard work," Eleanor tells me. "Singing is like being an athlete. If you get out of practice then your voice gets lazy."
Suitably inspired by a demonstration of how it should be done, I'm back at the piano the next morning with a full Welsh breakfast inside me and a new sense of determination.
Sure enough, by the end of the final session, I do feel I'm making progress, tackling tunes from the West End musicals, learning to recognise changes in key and controlling my breathing instead of running out of puff after a particularly troublesome crescendo.
"You can't learn to sing professionally in a weekend but you can learn how to produce your voice and how to breathe properly," Eleanor advises me as I'm packing up on the last day. "Now you need to keep practising and stay relaxed when singing."
Back home, I find there's still a song in my heart - from a quick ditty in the shower to a sly croon on my way to the Tube station. The big test, however, comes when I take the mic once more for the local karaoke night. As the regulars run for the bar, I take the stage, centre myself and, with Eleanor's words still ringing in my head, launch into the first few bars.
The applause is, if I say so myself, thunderous. OK, so I might not be up to Robbie Williams' standard yet. But, after a weekend of fresh air, good food and patient tuition, I reckon I'm ready to give Gary Barlow a run for his money.
Way to go
Getting there: Cwm-moel (01982 570271) has rooms for £32 a night in summer. A three-course dinner costs £12. The half-hour singing assessment is free with lessons charged at £20 an hour thereafter. Ask about weekend/week B&B and singing package deals. Cwm-moel is three miles along the B4567 from Aberedw and 10 miles east of the junction for Builth Wells on the A470 .
Further information: Visit Wales (0800 915 6567, visitwales.co.uk)
