Glyndwr’s Way – Day 12

June 16, 2010: Llanbrynmair to Llangadfan

Looking back at Llanbrynmair

Looking back at Llanbrynmair

From my side window I could see two dozy dogs lying on the grass this morning – Tosh had a ruinous outbuilding on her side of the house. We had been asked to get our bags ready rather early today (the ladies just used suitcases on this trip) so that Mr. Hughes could transport them to our next night’s lodging – as he had to drive to Welshpool this morning. The handsome Mr. Hughes, dressed in coat and tie (with a bandaged finger reminding us of his usual pursuits as a cattle farmer) introduced himself as “the other half” when he took our breakfast orders at 8:00; our demands were always very modest: scrambled or poached eggs. The ladies always feasted on fruit and cereal first; I had just juice and an added sausage. Indeed I was trying to reduce the pressure on the bowels that a richer morning diet induces these days, but I was never able to avoid a second morning visit to the loo and such a procedure never sat well with my haemorrhoids – and this often led to an uncomfortable start to the day’s walking, as today. (Sorry to be so graphic.)

It was another lovely day, with high clouds in a sunny sky as we piled into Mrs. Hughes’ car for a return visit to Llanbrynmair. Of course we had to stop off at the post office in Cemmaes Road when it opened, at 9:00, so the ladies could buy more snacks and Tosh her newspaper. Mrs. Hughes then drove us to the end of the new road, just beyond the railway arch – for here is where we had abandoned Glyndwr’s Way the day before. It was 9:15.

Today’s initial stage resembled yesterday’s route  – for once again we were using tracks to head east along the side of hills overlooking a river valley and the railway line. One variation was the presence today of stiles – with the stiles team enjoying its only victory of the trip with a 14-12 triumph over gates. We paid close attention to our guidebook – with its reference to fences, trees and plank bridges, gradually gaining elevation and swinging to the left to leave our valley behind. Our direction was more northerly now and views of a wonderful, varied landscape opened up before us. At certain moments the sun was intense and as we joined the line of an old trackway I paused to take my sweatshirt off and lather up the back of my neck with sun block.

Heading into the forestry after Cerrig y Tan

Heading into the forestry after Cerrig y Tan

Much of the hillside of Banc y Gorlan seemed to have been harvested and we made our way forward with bare earth on both sides. The waymarking here was a bit problematic and when we climbed to a saddle on the ridge on our right we went a bit too far – and had to make a sharp left turn to reach our next stile. This lead to a track into another extensive patch of forestry and, though our arrival here did not quite meet with my route-finding expectations, I was relieved to see a welcoming waymark as we entered the forest. Once again the ladies got well ahead of me here, but the route was straightforward and there were some cooling breezes covering our track.

This easy stretch lasted for a mile and three quarters, though turnoffs brought us to narrower paths and even over some wet, spongy ground before we were at last able to leave the woods behind. We had to walk over rough moorland grass as we searched out waymarks on the horizon – there were a number of points when we could have used their reassurance. Sheep were making a great racket here and two little fellows seem to be suffering from separation anxiety. At last we reached a descending track but by this time it was almost 1:00 and we decided to sit down in the grass and tuck into the packed lunches that Mrs. Hughes had prepared. There were two small ham-filled baps, a welcome bottle of water, some yoghurt, an apple, some crisps and some kind of chocolate-coated biscuit in our clear plastic bags. (This formula was oft-repeated on this trip and I never got through it all – carrying back to London quite a stash of food.)

On the road to Dolwen

On the road to Dolwen

Our rest (accompanied by the invisible hovering skylarks) did not last long and we were soon able to continue on our track downhill and thus reach a tarmac road that clung to the wide valley bottom (of the Afon Gam) for a mile and a half. We switched here from south to north and progress was again fairly easy on this section – as we passed a number of farmsteads. At Neinthirion there was an adjacent chapel. Fortunately there was not much traffic on this road and the wildflowers (with buttercups dominant in the grassy verges) provided some visual stimulus. A huge lorry turned onto the track behind us – just as we were using it to escape tarmac.  We now crossed a bridge and began another long ascent on rough tracks in a northeasterly direction.

The warmth of the day meant that I was soon becoming dehydrated and, my mouth dry as a bone, I often had to throw my daypack off in order to search out a bottle of water. Once again, as we climbed ever higher, we were paying close attention to all the advice about trees, fences, walls, waymarks and turnoffs – at last leaving our track for the more open confines of a steep grassy hill on out left. On more than one occasion I would glance at the guidebook and read out an instruction that belonged to a section already completed or one yet to come. This now happened as we searched for a waymark on the horizon that, in fact, was still a paragraph away. When mysteries occurred I often relied instead on the shape of the yellow line signifying our route on the OS map, and so I did now. Soon we saw a reassuring acorn on a gate.

There now followed a mile or so of moorland scrambling over very treacherous and uneven surfaces, sometimes wet, as we fought our way from post to post. Once or twice my cane got stuck in the mud and I had to extract it, though the tip never got sucked in – as in Ireland the previous summer. Even when the descent from Pen Coed began the dryer surfaces were still eroded and uneven and I was looking forward to returning to the more pastoral countryside that now revealed itself to the north. We had to scramble down to a footbridge at the beginning of the new section and here some photos were taken. Now we had the company of farmyard fences and rooftops as we passed from stile to gate in an intricate pattern. This was interrupted by a short section of road walking as we passed a farmstead where you could hear (but not see) children at play. A final section of felled woodland brought us to the civilized outskirts of our village, Llangadfan, and we used a bridge to cross the Afon Banwy and thus reach the main road.

Tosh wanted to know exactly where our hotel was located, but I was certain that if I told her she would rush off without the rest of us – in search of coffee or a loo. So I kept this information to myself as we turned right and, in three minutes, reached the imposing structure of the Cann Office Hotel – the only time on this trip that we would be able to walk directly to our accommodation. We needn’t have rushed for now, at 5:25 (and with eleven and a half miles in the books), we discovered that the place was locked against all comers!

Having failed to get any response to our knocks (we even called the place on the mobile phone) we retreated to one of two little smokers’ gazebos in the parking lot and sat down. Signs indicated that the pub opened at 6:00 so we were not worried. In a few minutes activity picked up, first with the arrival of the barmaid, Katie (though she had no key) and then with that of an elderly gent who let us in, did some research on where we all belonged, and invited us to use the pub.

I had a welcome pint while we studied menus provided by the ever-efficient Katie. The Cann Office Hotel (nothing to do with the business world ­– the name is apparently a corruption of Cae´n y ffos, a fortified enclosure) specializes in curries – including one featuring Welsh beef: a combination that no one in India would eat. They also had a traditional menu as well. We went up to have our showers and returned at 7:00 to place our orders. Asked what she would recommend, Katie (referring to her own impressive girth) said that she would probably eat everything. In the event I tried “the traditional fish and chips” with peas and an ice cream sundae, not very inspiring, while Marge had a second chicken curry. While making our choices for this evening we were required to do the same for Thursday night as well for Celtic Trails had advised us that our fourth landlady wanted consultation on this subject – 48 hours in advance of the event itself. Tosh usually made such calls since her mobile phone had greater coverage than mine. We used the opportunity of this contact to remind Mrs. Breeze that we would probably not arrive in her neighborhood until 6:00 or so, given the slowness of our pace, and she agreed, reluctantly, to put the dinner off from 7:00 to 7:15. Tonight we ate in the dining room, which was expecting a large party, and so we were glad to finish early and repair to our rooms. I tried to listen to my new Ipod and to read for a while but I was soon fast asleep. Unfortunately I was wide awake two hours later – so this time I took a pill.

To continue with the next stage of our walk you need:

Day 13: Llangadfan to Pont Llogel