A day off in Machynlleth!

This was definitely the worst day by far weatherwise, so I was quite glad not to be walking, though there could quite easily be more of the same to come. We spent most of the day at CAT, the Centre for Alternative Technology. I hadn't been for 13 years and Jennie for 26! It was as interesting and as slightly ramshackle as I remembered it, with plenty to think about when we left.

We went into town afterwards to visit the Owain Glyndwr Centre. I felt that I needed to further strengthen the bond which had naturally formed between Owain and myself during the walk so far. It was shut. Well it was actually closing in ten minutes time, so I explained to the nice lady about the walk and asked if we could please just have a brief look before closing time, to which she replied "No, I've got a doctors appointment". Miserable cow.

I had now gone off Machynlleth big time but managed to muster up the enthusiasm to have my picture taken on an Owain-inspired sculptured chair, with his memorial behind....

...while Jen had her picture taken with another sculpture paying tribute to the great man himself. No idea what that's supposed to be.

We went to a pizzeria attached to a pub for tea, which meant that I could get a decent pint from the bar to go with the food. Meal rating 8/10. Lovely pizzas but two points docked for uneven distribution of olives and capers.

Day five. Dylife to Machynlleth. 15.25 miles.

I was very lucky today. I stayed dry apart from two showers, but not far to the north I could that it was raining for almost the entire day. The only downside was that one of the showers arrived as I reached the highest and most remote part of the entire walk, so it was hard going for ten minutes or so. This shower also arrived two minutes after I had met three people actually out walking, next to a large lake, Glaslyn. A woman (who sounded Polish) was some distance ahead of the other two, and when met we met our conversation went something like:
Woman: "Is it good?"
Me: "Pardon?"
"Is it good? The lake, is it good?"
"Er, yes, it's a nice lake?"
"Are there birds?"
"No, I'm afraid not. The water is very acidic so the birds don't like it." (I'd been reading up on it)
"So why have I walked all this way to see birds when there are no birds? This is ridiculous."
"There are some birds. I saw a buzzard a few minutes ago."
"Pfffffff"
Then she turned round to walk back to her friends who were struggling to get past a large puddle. At this point the rain started. I was already fogged up but they weren't. So basically they ran for it. As they disappeared into the distance I realised that this was the only conversation I'd had with a fellow walker since I began in Knighton, but was typical of the type of conversations I'd had with other people I had met (as was the red kite 'conversation'). Another example:
Me: "Do you live here?"
Man: "Yes."
"It's a lovely village."
"It's a dump."
All of these conversations come to an abrupt halt at these points, as I try to decide whether to maintain my positive attitude, agree for the sake of it or give up and read my book.

I actually managed to set off at 9 today as there was very little to detain me in Dylife. I was very soon on top of the moors again, where I spent a brilliant, wild morning in the wilderness singing too loudly than is good for a sane person (though five days was the tipping point last year!). I mainly had the songs from Patti Smith's 'Radio Ethiopia' in my head today, before moving onto Graham Parker's 'Don't get excited' and finally, from out of nowhere 'In the air tonight' by Phil Collins', which ruined everything.

Following the meeting with the woman and the shower I took a detour to walk up to the summit of Foel Fadian for some wonderful views, including the sea for the first (and possibly only) time. This is looking back towards Glaslyn with the Pumlumon mountains in the background.

The afternoon was much more undulating with some long, steep ascents, but on excellent paths and I wandered into Machynlleth at 5pm, which seemed immense compared to the places I've been to so far.

The centre of Machynlleth, not at 5pm.

Because of the early finish I could get showered before Jen and Liz turned up, the only decent thing to do I thought, and it was lovely to see them both. We went to an Indian restaurant in town where I had a chicken jalfrezi, meal rating 8/10. Two points docked for forgetting to bring us water on two separate occasions.

The beer was of course also rubbish as it was lager. I have been a bit disappointed with the beer situation so far (though I did know what I was going to get tonight!), especially compared to last year's walk which was high quality throughout. However this has been offset by the b&b standards, which have so far been better. Tonight's (and thus toomorrow's) is another goody, Maenllwyd Guest House.

So a day off tomorrow, which will seem quite strange.

-- Posted from my iPhone

Day four. Llanidloes to Dylife. 12.75 miles.

Well, this was the one I'd been waiting for. The one I'd heard all about en route. The Star Inn at Dylife. To split the 28 miles from Llanidloes to Machynlleth into two fairly even days this is the only place to stay. According to those I had spoken to, basically a God-forsaken pub in a God-forsaken place. So would my pre-conceptions turn out to be mis-conceptions or, er, conceptions? I decided to be open-minded, after all Dylife was once a thriving lead-mining community high in the Welsh hills, with numerous pubs and many houses. It couldn't be that bad now, could it?

So I woke up this morning and it was chucking it down. I went for breakfast. Tom and Roy were bustling around with still no sign of the wives. I'm sure they'll be back soon. Tom, or was it Roy, told those of us present several quite funny teaching anecdotes whilst staring wistfully into the middle distance. Maybe b&b life is not for him after all. It was still pouring down but the forecast was for better weather later, so I made the decision to start walking at 11:30 as I only had 13 miles to go. Good move. By then we were back to sunny intervals again, which continued all day except for a couple of hours in the afternoon when it constantly looked like it was going to pour down again, but never did.

The walking today was hard work. Lots of ups and downs throughout the day. For scenery though it was the best yet, starting in rolling farmland and gradually getting wilder and more remote, via the superb Clywedog Reservoir and dam. I actually saw quite a few tourists today near the reservoir, though most of them got out of their cars and then very obviously couldn't decide what to do so got back in again. To be fair I stopped late on at a picnic site with a nature trail, which was marked on a big map board and was the only thing to do there. I decided to follow it (obviously not enough nature on my own trail). It took me two and a half minutes.

The dam though was very impressive, if not attractive (though the valley itself was stunning), with an old lead mine and a salmon hatchery at the bottom. The dam from below...

...and from above.

I realised this afternoon that the only music I've heard so far are the songs I put on the jukebox in Llangunllo, my iPhone alarms (Ommadawn by Mike Oldfield first, to wake me up gently, then Us v Them by LCD Soundsystem when the first alarm hasn't got me up) and the ones I sing while I'm walking. This habit tends to become more frequent and louder the longer I've been on my own. Today I caught myself singing, amongst others, Reward by Teardrop Explodes, several songs by The Beat and Whispering Grass by Don Estelle and the other one, the sergeant major from It ain't half hot mum (complete with intro - "sing it Lofty boy"). This last one is exactly the sort of thing that happens when you've been on your own too long, but at least on this walk there is no danger of anyone overhearing me. In fact I am becoming convinced that nobody else has ever done Glyndwr's Way before, because I haven't seen anyone, and people say things to me like "What? You're doing all of it?". In fact I'm pretty convinced that Owain Glyndwr didn't do it either because he spent his whole time on a horse, and hardly any of these paths are bridleways so he wouldn't have been allowed.

Tomorrow is the big one. The day when I could do with decent weather (and an early start) to walk the wildest 15 miles of the route. Then I get to see Jen and Liz who are joining me for two nights and I will get a day off on Friday so we can visit the Centre for Alternative Technology near Machynlleth. May be a short blog tomorrow.

When I first saw Dylife I was actually quite impressed. It's in a beautiful spot in which you can see the remains of the mine, but it's not littered with derelict houses. There is nothing here now but the pub and a couple of houses dotted about. There were people in the pub eating when I arrived at 7, three families in fact. I decided to take a positive stance from the start, so here are some of the things I don't mind about the Star at Dylife:
I don't mind that the bed is so soft it sinks like a hammock.
I don't mind that my towels smell.
I don't mind that the ceiling in my room is damp and looks like it's about to collapse.
I don't mind that the ceiling in the bathroom is collapsing.
I don't mind that the bath has cigarette burns.
I don't mind that the menus and tables are sticky.
I don't mind that the hand pumped bitter has gone off.
Actually I do mind this last one quite a lot, but the landlady is far too scary to complain to. The three families had all gone by 8, it is now 10:15. Nobody has been in since and nobody else will come in because there is nowhere for anybody to come in from. If somebody does come in it will be to chop me in to small pieces with an axe. I say me because not only have all the other customers gone but so has the landlady. She goes into her lounge to watch telly and if you want anything you ring a bell. I could just serve myself but I'm too busy curling up in a ball in the corner gibbering.

None of the above bode well for dinner earlier (or is that bade well?). I was struggling with the pre-conceptions when it came to food. Would it be ok to eat? I played safe and ordered a chilli, it would only need to be heated thoroughly to avoid killing me. I was well and truly put in my place. The chilli was a corker, homemade with loads of different types of beans and sultanas for a bit of sweetness. Spicy too. Very original and possibly the best chilli EVER!!! Meal rating 9/10. One point docked for including a side salad. Why bother?

So it is now 10:30 and the landlady has locked up and gone to bed. I am still downstairs and have been asked to turn the lights off. Nobody else is staying here tonight. I have no idea why, this pub is really quite good!

-- Posted from my iPhone

Day three. Abbeycwmhir to Llanidloes. 15.25 miles.

I probably ate my all time healthiest breakfast this morning. Slice of melon, bowl of fresh grapefruit and other fruit, muesli with Greek yoghurt. I don't know what came over me but it was delicious, and I almost felt that I'd let myself down when I followed it with scrambled eggs on toast.

I always start the day by looking at the map and deciding what sort of day to expect, effortwise. Today looked much easier than the previous two so I set off at a leisurely pace, but then things got complicated. You see, until now it had been tee shirt and shorts all the way, but after half an hour it started to drizzle. This coincided with one of two big ascents today, so as soon as I got my waterproofs on I was boiling. Then the sun came out but it was still raining so I began to steam. Then the flies found me. For half an hour I struggled with the wet or dry, cool or hot conundrum (no choice with the flies), choosing the latter in each case. Then the rain disappeared and I had to take the waterproofs off and immediately put sun tan lotion on. Oh what strange weather we have.

It was very warm and sunny from then on, and I could concentrate on other things, such as the next four very boring miles through coniferous forest, along a road then through more forest. The Forestry Commission had tried to be very clever by planting a row of silver birches next to the path to hide the endless pines and spruces, but you can't keep a good Christmas tree down and they were beating the birches into submission. As there was 4 miles of this nonsense I accelerated to 4mph to get through it, and in, um, er......... ah, an hour I was out the other side. The other advantage of walking fast is that the flies find it harder to keep up.

Once out of the forest I stopped for lunch to watch four trial bikers on the hillside above me trying to get up an extremely steep slope. Three of them could do it but the fourth couldn't, so they helped him by firstly laughing at him, secondly shouting at him to get a move on, then finally riding off and leaving him there. I was tempted to offer him some of my cheese sandwich, but didn't. In the end he pushed/carried his bike to the top but the others were long gone.

The afternoon was much more successful than the morning. The scenery was much better than expected and the walking was more challenging, including by far the steepest ascent of the three days. Here is a typical mid-Wales scene, with a cow.

I also had a couple of wildlife experiences. The first was when a long rodenty thing ran to within 6 feet of me before spotting me and scarpering. I guess it was a polecat. Just a few minutes later I was convinced I could see a red kite. I was looking into the sun and couldn't tell for sure, but I could hear it clearly making a sort of descending 'peeoo' sound, so I did what I'm sure all good ornithologists do and used the iPhone 'Chirp' app to listen to the calls of the buzzard and red kite (no, come back). It was a buzzard.
Animals I have spotted so far:
Red kites - 0
Buzzards - 42
Polecats - 1
Cattle - 786
Sheep - 863,429 (could have been more but I fell asleep at this point, boom boom!)

Nobody around here speaks Welsh. I am in the red lion in Llanidloes and two locals were at the bar trying to think of all the Welsh words they know. They got stuck at about eight, so changed the subject to the great Wolves team of the 60s. They're easy to hear because the pub is otherwise empty, but at least they aren't staring at me. Llanidloes is a small, attractive market town with possibly more pubs than people, so the red lion should think itself lucky. I'm drinking Timmy Taylor's Landlord and Rev James, both very good. Earlier I had a rack of ribs with potato wedges. Meal rating 4/10. Three points deducted because I didn't feel like ribs once they arrived, and the other three because the wedges were chips, not wedges.

The hotel (oh yes indeed, I'm social climbing tonight) is once again extremely nice. It's run by two very friendly gentlemen. I wonder where their wives are? On an overnight shopping trip I expect.

Anyway, the highlight of today was eventually seeing two red kites flying just above me at the end of the walk. I sat on a bench just outside town to watch them. An old bloke appeared and sat down to watch them with me. "Aren't they incredible?" I said. "Pain in the arse", he said. I presumed he was talking about the kites.


-- Posted from my iPhone

Day two. Felindre to Abbeycwmhir. 15.75 miles.

The day started with a delicious full breakfast, only marred by the constant presence of a bowl of something unidentifiable. Any ideas?

I was away by 9:30 which is really good for me. Nowhere near as much to report today though, chiefly because the weather was almost identical to yesterday, which is a good thing, and the scenery was too, which is also a good thing as long as I haven't walked back the way I came yesterday. I'll assume I haven't because I'm somewhere else now.

That somewhere else is Abbeycwmhir, a beautiful little village somewhere in mid-Wales. It's tiny but has an enormous abbey, third only in size when it was built to Durham and Winchester, and therefore the biggest cathedral in Wales, as you can see in the picture..................oh.

Apparently the headless body of Llywelyn ap Gruffudd (Llywelyn the Great) is buried here, which of course raises an obvious question! The village also has a pub which sadly let me down by only having Brain's super cold creamflow bitter, so it's been a slow, one pint evening and I'm now back at the b&b, Mill Cottage. The pub was empty when I got there at 9, but by the time I left it was heaving with four people. None of them could think of anything to say until one of them mentioned Dragon's Den, then revitalised they managed to discuss that for a very, very long time.

Mill Cottage is a more normal b&b experience than the previous two. The owners are very welcoming and the evening meal, well, it was a beauty. Chicken on a bed of leeks and peppers with veg accompaniment, followed by meringue and ice cream with fresh apricot. No not apricot, the one that's like peach. Is it nectarine? No, can't remember what it's called just now. Anyway meal rating 9/10. Just one point docked for referring to the vegetables as a 'medley'. Elvis did medleys.

I'm aware that this is red kite territory, and as its the national bird of Wales I'm keen to see one. I've seen loads of birds of prey but they all look like buzzards to me so I texted Bri (brother and twitcher) for a description, which I duly received. I then spent far too much time staring up in the air instead of at the path, but nothing doing.

Today's walk followed the same pattern as yesterday's. Rolling hills in the morning and more dramatic moorland with great views in the afternoon, with a pretty village to stop at midway for a pint. Almost. Today's pretty village to stop at midway for a pint was Llanbadarn Fynydd. But it's not really a village, more a row of houses. On the A483. And the pub was shut. All of the above helped to shape my opinion of Llanbadarn as a god-forsaken hellhole, but especially the last point. The pub is open every evening and six lunch times a week, but not on Mondays. All I could do was sit opposite with my packed lunch and stare at it, and still it stayed closed. So, not a good pub day, but a good day nonetheless.

Day one. Knighton to Felindre. 15.75 miles.

(Note - As expected not much joy today posting the blog below. The only chance I got it spent ages thinking then failed, so I've taken the photos out and will post them separately. Maybe that will speed things up at my next opportunity.)

I've got to begin with the weather of course, as everything else pales into significance on a long distance walk (apart from beer and pain). I know enough about mid-Wales to realise that usually when you get a forecast the actual weather will be one 'level' worse. For example if the forecast is for sunny intervals it will be cloudy, cloudy will be showers, etc, etc. So I was delighted when sunny intervals were forecast and that was exactly what I got, albeit quite short intervals. Basically it was a lovely day, and if God was to offer me 11 more of those I'd take them. But he won't.

Last night's B&B, Whytcwm Cottage, was a hoot. The landlady was a larger than life character who I ended up drinking red wine with till one in the morning, along with her daughter who was staying with her. The more she drank the more she swore, mainly when referring to her daughter's ex-husband ("that f@@@@@g b@@@@@d and his f@@@@@g b@@@h girlfriend"). It was great fun and she must surely acquire cult status in Knighton. Rhubarb for breakfast too!

So I have two meals to report on. Last night I went to the horse and jockey in Knighton (I stayed there last year with Jen on Offa's Dyke) and had a chicken and bacon enchilada. Meal rating 7/10. One marked docked because the cheese sauce was a bit rich, the other two because it looked like it had been dropped onto the plate from a great height. Still a better start foodwise than last year. Tonight I ate at my new B&B because the pub doesn't do food on Sunday. Meal rating 7/10. Lasagne with salad, a bread roll and new potatoes. Two marks docked for excessive carbohydrates and another for asking me too many times how my meal was. Another great b&b though, Brandy House Farm. A much more professional affair this time, my room is intended for someone far more esteemed than me. No chance of a late night drinking frenzy here though. I'm now in the pub in Felindre, the Wharf Inn (about 30 miles from the sea!), drinking Monty's Mojo bitter. Good stuff. One of those pubs where everyone stares as you walk in. A bloke just came for a quick chat, but there were so many 'bloody's in his first sentence I didn't have a clue what he was saying. He hasn't hit me yet though which is a bonus.

Anyway, in between the drinking I've done some walking. This morning I seemed to completely forget that I wasn't on a Sunday stroll (in fact I spent the first half hour of the walk window shopping in Knighton), so by 2:30 I'd only walked 6 miles. A lovely 6 miles, mind, over rolling hills and through deciduous woodland. At this point I reached a tiny village called Llangunllo where I stopped to eat my packed lunch, popped in to the church to repent my sins and stood staring at the derelict pub which had it's windows broken and sheets for curtains, and was closed because the owner had died. Except it wasn't. A woman walked past and stopped for a chat, during which she told me that it had re-opened two weeks ago and that it was open now (I've posted a picture but I don't suppose it will do it justice, it's a real mess).I walked round the back and sure enough was greeted by a woman who looked like patti smith. She showed me inside into what was basically a building site with a bar in the corner and a jukebox. They were from Wolverhampton and were doing it up at weekends. Very slowly. They didn't have draught beer yet so I had a bottle of Fursty Ferret and put some music on. I'd been singing 'tunnel of love' by dire straits to myself all morning which was quite distressing, so I got it out of my system with some Sabbath and Jethro Tull (it wasn't the most up to date jukebox). The landlady said that you can tell a lot about someone from the music they listen to. So presumably she thought I was a devil-worshipping flautist.

The last 9 miles, when I finally got round to them, were as wild as I'd hoped this walk would be, across high level moorland with stunning views in every direction. Brecon Beacons to the south, Cadair Idris to the north, though as usual with long distance paths the route skirted any summits, so I had to detour up to the highest point. The start of this section was quite exciting because a group of lads were blatting around the hills on trial bikes (illegally, according to the sign which said 'No Motorbikes'. One lad even stopped and leaned his bike on the sign!), and being 'chased' by some sort of warden in a Landrover, which was bouncing around at about 5mph and getting nowhere. At one point I actually walked past it. I was going to suggest that he'd have more success getting out and running after them, but didn't. Anyway once they'd all disappeared over the horizon the last couple of hours were fantastic, the only things I could hear were the birds and my tinnitus. Oh and my squeaky rucksack. Not sure what to do about that, I can hardly oil it. The highlight of the day though was being handed a huge wedge of Victoria sponge as soon as I got to the b&b. Now that's good PR!

I've just had a chat with the man in the pub about darts and the Welsh language. He said something along the lines of "Bloody.......the bloody trouble with the bloody.........bloody Welsh language is bloody.........that it's bloody, bloody useless". He is drunk rather than aggressive and tomorrow he's doing some work in "bloody..........bloody Queensferry". So watch out Flintshire!


-- Posted from my iPhone

The start of Glyndwr's Way.

The start of Glyndwr's Way in the centre of Knighton - a post with an arrow stuck on it behind a trashed phone box.

-- Posted from my iPhone