In The Direction Of Up !
We had some
very splendid wanderings about last week.
This, therefore, is a synopsis of “What We Did On Our Holidays” (which
is a title cribbed from the essays set by my – and, no doubt, your – Junior School teachers.
holidays they were, even though we have been based at home. The weather has been inclement for a few
weeks now, so the second camping break we hoped to take was abandoned for
day-tripping when the weather looked promising.
Wednesday last, 11th August, we sort of decided on a short trip to
Pontrhydygroes and its Miners Bridge.
When I say “sort of”, more often than not we just go out on spec and
decide where to go as we travel. That
way, we have discovered lots of places which we may not have done and we have
revisited places we haven’t seen for months, even years.
by the newly restored water-wheel in Pontrhydygroes. It was the wheel which pumped water from the
Ystwyth Valley mine a hundred years ago. “The Spirit of the Miners” group got it
turning again, bless ‘em.
ankle allowed her to get down to the bridge which crosses the Ystwyth
gorge. We were caught up there by a
Scottish lady walking a little dog for a neighbour. She told us that her own dog – “He’s very
young” – had run off earlier that morning when she’d walked him down to the
bridge. She asked us to bring him back
if we found him. (Having Bess with us,
we half-hoped that he kept himself hidden!).
over the bridge we went, Bess running free (but
under control). On the other side,
we turned left along the narrow footpath and through the woodland (which, we
think, should have the appellation “Ancient”).
chose to shine a little through the trees.
I was a most pleasant stroll. We
found a magnificent slate rock, the side of which was covered by tiny crystals
of white which sparkled as the sun touched them.
Up on the
main, ex-Forestry track, we turned right, returning to the bridge by the
Waymarked footpath. We have done this
walk a few times – once with Ceri and Milly – and it is a truly beautiful
route. The river, deep down between the
sides of the gorge, is always a grand sight.
My words cannot do justice to the whole magnificent – but fairly easily
accessible – scene.
at the bridge, we were just about to cross when a black sheepdog joined
us. His collar-tag told us this was the
missing pooch. Bess, surprisingly, took
to him right away – unusual for her (though she’s getting better with other dogs).
I held his
collar and led him up the other side of the gorge to the road. The lady had asked us to let the people at
Pontrhydygroes shop know if we found him.
We did so, and left him – a gentle animal – tied up outside the shop,
the girl there having rung his owner to come and collect him.
delightful walk, and not uneventful (though, fortunately, not overly
we wrote . . .”
See you in my next
burst – er – instalment.