More than a wet weekend in Wales
⬅ previous ⬆intro next ➡Day 3 ~ May 17 ~ Brecon to (near) Machynlleth
Today we are heading up to our treehouse, but it won't take all day to get there so we need to find something of interest on the way. We've not really planned this in detail, and with the weather being a little uncertain, we don't want to go too far off-piste. Looking at the map, the town of Rhayader is right on our road and seems to have some interesting scenery and walks, but it's not entirely clear.But as you know, we are bold and brave adventurers, and if we have to make it up as we go along, that's fine by us!
“THE OUTDOORS CAPITAL OF WALES”, eh?
Maybe we have chosen wisely.
It's certainly not an unattractive little town.
A centre of philosophical learning too.
It's good to see that the traditional country pursuits are alive and well here today.
(Goodness me! Debrett's have created their very own “Guide to Country Pursuits”, which you can download as a PDF file here. I do recommend you read it, it's most entertaining!)
I digress. How unlike me.
Anyway, it seems there's a walk along a former railway track through the Elan Valley to a hydroelectric dam, about three miles away. That sounds like a fine excursion.
On the outskirts of town, it's not clear whether this is a pub or a bike shop. Maybe both?
On the one hand, the sign says “Clive Powell Bikes Eland Cyclery”, but it also says “Cwmdauddwr Arms”. Another reads “Pink Penguin Pub Co.”
Some internet research after the fact tells us that it is indeed both. And Grade II listed!
Probably because it's a Sunday it seems closed right now, but online opinion appears to suggest it would be worth a stop.
Gosh, another bike shop (not a pub).
I guess this is part of being the “outdoors capital”, catering to a lot of mountain-biker types.
And another pub, not a bike shop!
I have to say that Rhayader looks like it would be an excellent choice for a pub crawl by bicycle. Sadly though, we've left our bikes on the car and it isn't Welsh opening hours right now, so we'll have to pass.
Right, just out of town now, the start of our trail. It is, as I said, following a disused railway line, formerly the Birmingham Corporation Railway, which was built around the turn of the 20th Century as part of the reservoir construction project.
It's now open to walkers, cyclists and horse riders, and there's some solid information about the trail here at Walk Wheel Cycle Trust.
We are a bit confused as to why a former railway line has such a steep slope, until we realise that the trail has diverged from the original route, going over this tunnel here instead of through it as the trains did. We can climb down, access is not restricted (though it's a bit of a scramble), but you won't see this unless you make a deliberate effort.
The tunnel is now home to bats, and therefore off-limits to tourists. I think this must have already been the case when the trail was created, as there's not the slightest hint that the leisure route ever went this way.
This what it looks like inside.
Actually, no it isn't. To mere human vision it's essentially pitch black with a spot of light at the end, but modern camera technology can do seemingly unbelievable things (yes, I was complaining that my phone wasn't a patch on my proper camera earlier; this is the sort of thing I was thinking of). That said, I don't see any bats.
Looks like it's now quite the little nature reserve.
The bluebells are long gone back home, but they're thriving here.
We have to cross the road here, and we've noticed that there seem to be an awful lot of people bringing their exotic sports cars and classics to this part of Wales. This Ferrari was right behind an Aston Martin, and we've seen several other groups who are obviously here to enjoy good quality but not busy roads.
UGH has to be practical, of course (I wasn't allowed to have a mid-life crisis with a little red sports car and a mistress young enough to be my daughter, bah humbug), but we do believe that ‘practical’ does not entirely rule out ‘fun’, hence our car history has been a small but perfectly formed selection of the best hot hatches of their time. And I must stress, this is not just a boy thing: Amanda has been known to take a certain not-at-all-smug satisfaction in showing the lad next to her at the lights who's out to impress his girlfriend, that a middle-aged matron in a shopping trolley can leave him behind.
At the end of a pleasant walk, we arrive at the dam.
We got talking to a local chap earlier, and he advised us to stick to the track, not follow the signs for visitors, because that would take you down to a pointless visitor centre and you'd only have to climb back up again. We looked down on the centre and car park from above and didn't feel we had been given bad advice.
From a distance, we'd thought we could walk across the dam, but this turns out to be pure imagination. It's accessible for maintenance staff I imagine, but certainly not for the general public. The water level is close to the top now, but it can rise above and the dam becomes a giant waterfall.
We have our packed lunch but realise that we are getting a bit behind schedule, so don't have time to dawdle.
This building looks pretty obviously contemporary with the dam, and is clearly still in use. It's not obvious what it is though. After the fact, I can get OpenStreetMap to tell me it's the “Elan Valley Filter Substation” (Google Maps is useless for this sort of thing), and from there I learn that the whole Elan Valley lake system is the result of a plan to provide clean water to Birmingham at the end of the 19th century.
One of the reasons for choosing to build the dams here was that the relatively high elevation meant that water could be moved by gravity without pumps, and could easily be filtered by passing through beds of gravel, peat and moss, which is what this place is for.
Turns out there's a lot of history here and loads more points of interest that we've simply had no time to see even if we'd known about them.
Fascinating detailed accounts from the Powys Digital History Project and Heneb: The Trust for Welsh Archaeology.
But as I say, we can't dawdle, so it's a brisk walk back into town and then drive on to the treehouse.
[As I mentioned earlier, lots of people seem to be here for the driving. Amanda says in her diary that she thinks I am having far too much fun on this leg of the journey: doesn't she realise I'm being greatly restrained for her sake?!]
And here we are!
This is a working farm so they do ask everyone checking in to arrive at about the same time to keep things running efficiently, which is why we were a bit tight on time earlier. We are absolutely fine, though, bang in the middle of the arrival window.
The trolley is to carry our bags to the bottom of the hill where our treehouse is located. Yes, the bottom.
It says on the website FAQ page,
Can I choose a particular treehouse before my holiday?Peter tells us that he's given us what he thinks is the nicest, but that we may hate him halfway up the hill!
We have worked hard to make each of our treehouses magical. We generally decide which treehouse would be best for you on arrival. Some treehouses are more challenging to get to than others. Some are more suitable for families with young children.
Keep going...
Follow the sign...
The name translates to “Top of the Hill” in English. Hmm.
Nearly there...
Wow! I promise you I am holding the camera perfectly level!
There's a zig-zag switchback path so you don't have to go straight up, but it's still steep, and completely unsuitable to take the trolley.
It's worth it, though: the treehouse is beautiful in the spectacular bluebell wood setting, and none of our fellow-dendrites are anywhere to be seen so we have more privacy than you might expect out in the open like this.
Climb the spiral staircase, then cross the rope bridge, carrying all our luggage of course.
That's the privy on the left, and tthe small box just to the left of the door is the ‘fridge’ – an evaporative cooler. All mod cons or what?!
This is the kitchen/diner/lounge. We have a gas hob and, err, that's the cooking facilities. Not that we're the microwave ready-meal sorts, but if you are, you're stuffed!
The master bedroom. Well, the same space seen from a different angle really.
Where's the bathroom, you might ask? Ah, well if you skip back to the picture looking up the hill, the small cabin on the ground underneath is our shower!
This is brilliant, we love it!
Yes, I am cooking by the light of a head torch.
There are some decorative lights as you can see, but nothing that you would actually call ‘illumination’; but we came prepared.
Warm chicken pasta salad: pretty and yummy.
(The knives here were not nearly as bad as I'd expected. I suspect that the majority of guests, finding proper cooking too hard and microwaving not possible, just drive to the nearest pub for meals and the knives don't see that much abuse in consquence.)
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