Before I set out on this little jaunt I did a bit of research on t'internet to see what the best diet is for a long distance walk. I kept researching until I found the one I liked best. For breakfast it recommended either porridge with honey or scrambled egg on wholemeal toast. This morning I made the logical assumption that if you can have both that's even better, so armed with a very full stomach I set off to climb 3 hills/mountains/whatever they ares. That wasn't before delaying my start because I was in a bit of a grump about the weather, which was still very gloomy. I then saw a weather forecast on tv and knew that things were set to improve.
I had met a grand total of zero fellow walkers in the 4 days so far, but because of where I was I wasn't too surprised when I met a lovely Belgian couple at breakfast who were walking. What I was surprised about was that they were also doing the entire Beacons Way and in the same timescale as me, including the same day off in Brecon. I had a great idea - we could all share a room to save money! Having considered this for a few minutes I concluded that they might not like my great idea, and kept it to myself.
It had looked cold outside from inside the pub, but it most certainly wasn't. I started with a wander around the impressive priory.
Llanthony Priory.
The route today was up down up down up down. The first up was really tough, through waist deep bracken with no breeze. The second down was a pain in the backside, with far too many twists and turns through small muddy fields and along nettly tracks. Everything else was an absolute joy, just the right temperature on the high moors with fantastic views in every direction.
The cloud was fairly low in the morning and early afternoon, but lifted to give me my first views of the high peaks to come. Every one of the long walks I do seems to have an 'ultimate day', the one where you really want the weather to be perfect for walking. Last year it was the day I left Aberdaron and walked round the tip of the Lleyn Peninsula. It was glorious. This year it is Monday, when I traverse the summit of the Brecon Beacons including Pen y Fan, which for whatever reason I have never been up before. Here's hoping! In fact the second half of the walk is generally quite a bit higher than the first, and more difficult to navigate, so a nice week where it cools down just a bit will be lovely please, er, God.
I had lunch in the porch of a small church, again in the middle of nowhere, with a friendly couple from Suffolk. They did regular holidays in the Beacons, especially since they had retired. This was nice to hear the first time, but after the fifth "oh and did we mention we're retired?" I was thinking of useful things you could do with a bell rope. By the way my packed lunch from the pub was monumental. I can't recommend that place highly enough. Respect!
The final hill was Table Mountain (oh for goodness sake, it's just not that high! And no, it's not that one.). Two years ago myself, Jen, Soph, Becks and Liz went to the Green Man Festival, which takes place just outside Crickhowell, and is overlooked by the profile of Table Mountain. I really enjoyed the festival but spent quite a lot of time wanting to pop out and climb it, so I was looking forward to standing on top and trying to work out where the festival site was from above. It wasn't hard. I approached the edge and was confronted by a landscape dominated by thousands of tents! It hadn't occurred to me at all that it would be on this weekend. After about 10 minutes descending towards Crickhowell I could hear music, but not clearly enough to tell who it was. A few minutes later the sound of bluesy guitar noodling wafted past and I lost interest.
Crickhowell is a very attractive town/big village. The campsite is a mile over the river, a relaxed site with ground you can actually get a tent peg into (as opposed to my last building/campsite). There are signs dotted about asking for no noise after 10pm, but when I went to pay the lady who owns the site she recommended that I camp well away from the house because it's her birthday and she's having a party which will be loud and go on till late! I ignored her and parked myself nearby. I fancy a bit of party music later.
Insert your own 'fowl tent' joke here.
I wandered back into Crickhowell for some food. On the way there was a car in a lay by up ahead and a woman was setting up a tripod. It looked like a good spot to take a photo of the bridge with Crickhowell beyond. Then she stuck a microphone on top of it, and I noticed her Environmental Agency jacket. It clicked that she was measuring the decibel level from the festival. I was enraged. What happened to 'freedom of making a racket' once a year? I asked her if she could hear anything and she glanced at me but said nothing. I was further enraged. I said, "The Prodigy are on later, you'll need a Geiger Counter for that". I thought this was funny, but she looked anxious and went to hide in the car. I was lying of course, it's Van Morrison headlining tonight, so everyone should sleep well.
And now I'm back in Crickhowell town/village. It's the kind of evening we only get two or three of a year - Mediterranean. I'm sitting at a street table outside the Dragon Inn having just eaten a steak and ale pie (also monumental). A number of pubs and cafes in this street have had the same idea and the atmosphere is great. The forecast says that rain is moving in again tomorrow but who cares? I could stay out here all night, but it's the first Match of the Day of the season later and hopefully one of the pubs will be showing it.
-- Posted from Kev's iPhone
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