How green is my valley

 

Over the next few days, the dark clouds lifted and so too did my spirits. I had known that I was surrounded by beautiful countryside but I'd not been able to appreciate it properly before.

Once the light came back into my days, the colours took my breath away. I have never seen green like it. The rain makes the fields and meadows so verdant and at this time of year when the new autumn grass is growing, the whole landscape glowed!

One perfect example is Pont Minllyn. I had read about this old pack-horse bridge, which had been built by Dr John Davies in the middle of the 17^th century and so I went to find it; now disused and covered with grass, it is such a lovely thing to see.

The following day I packed myself a picnic and was looking for a secluded place to sit and dream the hours away. I have been letting Fate take me where she wills and I was not disappointed. I followed another steep and tiny winding road until I was high in the hills. I noticed a path leading into trees, so I went exploring.

It was an enchanted place. The ancient Oak trees were covered in moss and ferns, there was an ancient crab apple which had more lichen than fruit and the berries of Rowan trees shone a bright orange. The woodland was quite open with small meadows and patches of gorse and bracken.

The path led me upwards until I came to the top of the hill and I could see across to the valley below. The sun came out and it was like looking down on Paradise.

I have fallen in love with these lush wooded hills and valleys, they are so different from the wild and bleak mountain tops, each has a very different spirit.

 I am so glad I decided to move from place to place- it is exciting and challenging getting to know the feel of different landscapes.

An elegant residence

 

Life is full of happy coincidences. Not many months ago I was reading about the huge redwood - the Wellingtonia or Giant Sequoia and I longed to have the chance to travel to California and see these mighty trees. Well goodness me- who would have guessed? Mr Humphries who originally owned the house where I am staying and created the gardens, brought over a Wellingtonia from Canada to add to his collection of unusual trees and plants. It’s now over 100 foot tall and as soon as it has stopped raining, I am going to go out and hug it.

My body has been complaining about the uphill walks and so I spent a quiet first day at Pool Cottage. There are several holiday lets here but it is quiet and still has the feel of an old country house. 

The gardens are full of winding stone paths and fern lined steps. I enjoyed playing with some colourful leaves...

The next day dawned dank and dark with grey clouds and rain. I know that I can’t be in alt all the time but I felt rather ashamed of feeling so down-hearted. I missed the clear blue skies, space and clarity of my week on the hillside.

However, I gave myself a talking to and in the afternoon headed out to do some gentle exploring. I followed a quiet winding lane, with moss and grass in the middle and pootled along trying to get a feel of the countryside. I found a place to park and continued my travels down the lane on foot, enjoying the sound of robins singing and the peaceful feel of misty rain on my face. Then to my delight I saw that the hedgerows were full of blackberries. Now I had a purpose I felt much more cheerful, I gathered a large handful and also picked a little posy of late summer flowers.

Returning home to my cottage, I felt much more at home.

 

A’hoy there!

 

I stayed but a single night at the Boatel, yet I will always remember it. The boat –come-bedroom and the extraordinary boat roofed shed are the creations of Alex and he rightly won ‘shed of the year’ in 2013.

I was prepared for it to be unusual but I wasn’t expecting it to be so comfortable. Solar power provided heating, lighting, a cooker and a fridge; I even had a chance to re-charge my phone!

Yet it was the wonderful personal character of the shed that I loved. Alex took time to chat to me and show me some of the treasures and quirky collections he has gathered.

 The setting too was peaceful although mizzling rain and low clouds hid the hillsides from my view that evening, nothing could be warmer than the greeting from Alex's two dogs.

That night I cooked my supper, had a glass of wine, and read (Pliny’s letter to Tacitus describing the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 A.D.) by candlelight. Everything about that evening was so completely different from my life at home, I felt justified in calling this trip an adventure. 

The next morning, after a very warm and cosy night in the boatel, I awoke early to find that the skies had cleared and the sun was shining and as I enjoyed my morning mug of tea, I was treated to the beautiful view of the valleys and mountains looking towards the great Cader Idris.

The only thing to mar the perfection of my stay was when I discovered that the hard-boiled eggs I’d eaten for my breakfast, were actually the property of another guest....I sent my apologies via Alex and hope that I have been forgiven.

I headed off on the next leg of my adventure feeling inspired by my night’s stay in this unique and quirky place- this is exactly the sort of new experience I imagined myself having when I planned my trip.

Not forgetting books

I am a Booklady and so, despite taking a break from life, I brought a few books and have been lured into a few bookshops...

I had booked a table at the Betws-y-Coed weekly antique and collectors fair. I do believe that these fairs are the same, wherever you go. There is friendliness and a sharing of in jokes by the stall-holders; the sheer hard work of setting up and taking down your stock, and the copious mugs of tea and biscuits that make it all copable.

People trickle in and look and talk and don’t buy and my spirits get lower and lower- and then a good sale! All is well in with the world and I love everyone once more. It was a good day and I treated myself to a little vintage postcard and a beautiful old-fashioned shopping basket.

The town of Machynthleth has a pleasing, slightly alternative atmosphere and several good bookshops. I immediately felt at home at the Dyfi Valley Bookshop. It could be a template for every ‘proper’ Antiquarian bookshop to my mind, with its fine quality and beautiful books, witty and friendly owner- and there was even a shop dog.

 

What more could a Booklady want?

 

The little things

 I have been thinking back about this first week and deciding what has stayed in my memory. I don’t mean the grand views and strong emotions but the little things I have noticed that sum up the essence of my stay at Cae Canol Bach.

I shall never forget all the gates! I had to open and close six heavy farm gates in that last mile of bumpy track, climbing in and out of my car, staggering under the weight of them and fiddling with chains and latches and double checking each time to make sure I had locked them all properly.

There was my breakfast of field mushrooms picked just outside the cottage, Owen, a local sheep farmer had pointed them out to me.

I remember the importance of the skies, either hiding the mountains in their mist or lifting my spirits when they were blue and beautiful.

Dry-stone walls, independent sheep, glowing Rowan berries and most importantly for me-                      the peace and simplicity of my little cottage.

Sunsets, streams and about a billion stars

 Every day ends differently. I am intrigued by how often there is be a very different sunset despite seemingly similar weather conditions.

Being here has allowed me to sit and watch the sky change every evening. So often I am busy at home and if you turn away, even for a few moments, all the colours will have altered and the splendour dimmed.

 The sunsets behind a large mountain and I love to watch it change from misty blue to the darkest purple. The first evening I was here, the golden rays of the setting sun shone through a gap in the peaks, it was romantic and dramatic and a very fitting start to my stay.

I have been lucky with warm and sunny weather and the sunsets have been both colourful and beautiful.

Last night was especially magical. As I sat outside in the cooling air the sky above gradually changed from blue to deep indigo. In the distance, as the land met the sky there was a stripe of deep purple and red which gradually faded upwards to orange and gold. At the point where the sunset met the blue overhead it melted to palest green. Hanging there just at the point of richest colour was the first star of the evening.

Today was blazingly hot. I planned to make the most of the good weather and go to the seaside but I wanted to have a whole day here; to sit and watch the sun move across the whole sky.

In the cottage's bookshelf is a set of the Narnia books, so I am re-reading them again. Despite my adult opinions on some of C.S. Lewis’s beliefs (he most definitely wasn’t a pacifist) I still recapture the joy I felt when discovering Narnia as a child. It was the descriptions that I loved best and many of my favourite places have echoes in his stories.

Sitting in the sun reading could have filled my whole day but at midday, it was time for me to have a wander and a little bit of exploring. I didn’t plan to go far but following sheep’s trails tends to lead one onwards and upwards.

 I had just decided to circle back round to the cottage when I heard the sound of a tiny stream. Slipping and sliding and holding onto the branches of an ancient Ash tree I made it to the water. Is there any pleasure greater than that first dip of hot feet into a waterfall?

I spent a happy time damming up the water with my feet and them letting it run free, so I was splashed and soaking all over. My shoes had long gone and soon my dress followed, I became a child again, hidden from the world and playing in the water, with no thought of time or troubles.

Dressed once more, I dried off in the sun, leaning against the Ash tree and feeling comfortable in my skin and the countryside that enfolded me.

The nights on the mountainside are dark and silent, so I knew this was a perfect chance to do some star gazing. However, once darkness falls and I’m settled inside, I feel tired and lazy.  Yet I have wrapped myself in a shawl and settled down in the seat, tipping my head back and resting it on the stone wall.

It has been worth it. I don’t try to work out what is where and which glimmer is a planet or a star, I just gaze and ponder. Tonight I will rootle out my ancient binoculars and prepare to see more wonders. I would so love to see a shooting star.

 

A month in the Country- September spent in Wales

 My solitary adventure started in a very sociable and friendly way, as I stayed with family for my first two nights and it wasn’t until I drove up the very bumpy track and saw the tiny cottage, which was to be my home for the week, that I said to myself “ Ok Jane- this is it”.

The peace and feeling of space started to seep into my mind as I sat outside that first evening. It was so quiet I could hear the faint soughing of the wind in the pine trees across the valley. And the sheep of course- dotted around the hillside in every uncomfortable place and in constant communication with each other.

I find the beginning of every holiday rather disconcerting. I try not to plan and so all the days lie ahead, clear and uncluttered waiting for me to fill them with enjoyment and to ‘make the most’ of every moment. I have to remind myself that this is not necessary and I have come here to escape from the constant expectations I have of myself. It has become very popular to try to live in the moment but even that can be tiring and I often feel I have failed to appreciate the beauty of life.

So I am being kind to myself and taking time to settle in. And so often the happy times and beautiful moments come to us when we’re not trying too hard. I was given some very good advice from my brother Jon during lockdown: ‘Take a picnic and eat outside’. Sitting in the heather and eating a hardboiled egg and oatcakes was one of those good moments.

So far the weather has kind, in fact yesterday was a day of blue skies and blazing sun. I had been told of a fine walk behind my cottage and I knew I ought to make an attempt at least.

I do not like walking up hill. I like it even less if the way is rough and uneven, however there was a slim road leading to a slate quarry at the top of the mountain, so I decided to take that route. There was some tripping and squelching, climbing and staggering but finally I reached the road at the bottom of the valley.

Once I can forget about my feet, I am free to look around me and enjoy myself. The hillsides here are quite bare, mainly rough grass, thistles and brown flowering rush. Some of the hillsides have heather but there aren’t the great expanses of purple flowers that I loved in Scotland. It is beautiful though and my heart lifted at the sound of the stream that accompanied me for most of my walk.

It was all so lovely I decided to carry on to the top and enjoy the view looking across the next mountain range. The path got steeper and at every bend in the road I thought- I must be there, only to find another bend ahead and still further to go. I cursed and I panted, I swore and I sweated but I was darned if I was going to give up. I was glad to be alone and so could take it at my grumpy snail- like pace without holding anyone else up.

At last I reached the top and there was... a rather ugly slate mine!

Nothing daunted, I followed the path a little further down the other side and was rewarded with a beautiful view. There was even heather to sit amidst, a picnic to eat and so I and stayed an hour or more feeling inordinately pleased with myself.

I will not speak of the walk back home-it was painful but I made it.

Later that evening I sat outside, tucked against the stone wall of the cottage and watched the sun go down and later the stars appear.

I am getting settled in.