The Elan Valley, Dams and Reservoirs, Sunday 13th September 2015
Our 2015 holiday was in a converted water mill in the middle of a field in Brilley, Herefordshire. It was a fantastic place. Away from it all, surrounded by beautiful countryside, the only noises coming from a few sheep, a trickling stream and, at night, one or two owls.
During our second week we decided to drive across the border (some way across the border, in fact) and up to the Elan Valley.
The following is once again from my journal notes ~
"I think we might call today 'Super Sunday'. Woke at 9 and felt better for the lie-in (think we'd had a very busy day in Hay-On-Wye the day before). Martin was outside, as usual, with a coffee and a book. The weather looked promising. Retrieving the road atlas from the car, we perused the map and Martin suggested a drive up the Elan Valley to the reservoirs. So that we didn't dither, I said 'yes let's go'. So we made probably our fastest getaway from the mill and headed for Kington and the A44. Very quickly we were in Powys with sun breaking through the clouds. We managed a photo stop and then drove on to Rhayader, turning into the Elan Valley and pulling up at the top of the dam. Some photos taken, we drove back down to the visitor centre and had coffee and a bite in the cafe before starting on a walk. A path took us back to the top of the dam. From there we were able to cross the dam to the other side and took a short walk around the edge of the reservoir. The walk back down was one of the most beautifully wooded walks we've taken. The sun was out, everything was very verdant and lush. The oaks and ancient birches were hung with moss; the ferns were catching the rays of light and toadstools appeared amongst the clumps of moss, the red-capped spotted Fly Agarics giving an air of Faerie. It was just lovely.
An hour or so later, with photos galore taken, we reached the foot of the hillside and then made our way down to the river's edge. It was actually blue as it tumbled over the rocks and the river bank was soft with mosses. We picked our way up-river for a short distance, around odd-shaped fallen trunks and then ambled back to where two bridges spanned the water. One earlier bridge was now blocked off at either end, clearly no longer fit for purpose, so we crossed using the one next to it and slowly came back to the visitor centre.
It was very warm and the clouds were sailing above the surrounding Cambrian mountains. Purchases made in the shop, much needed drinks drunk, we got back to the car and headed up to Garreg-Ddu reservoir for another quick photo stop. The road meandered around the foot of the hills, the waters of the reservoirs blue as the sky, the wooded slopes of pine and hardwoods marching down between the still purple heather.
In a bend in the road we came to Pen y Garreg, another reservoir and another dam. We were lucky to have chosen this day to visit because the dam was open to the public and we couldn't pass up the chance to look inside.
Entrance fee was via a donation to Water Aid. That made we went down some steps and faced a very long, dark, damp tunnel lit only by window embrasures at certain intervals. At least it was flat! In the middle, steps led up to the central tower, the reservoir behind it and the massive wall of the dam before it with a thickly wooded gorge and river at the bottom. There was an exhibition in the tower with photos of the dam's construction. Soon we were back down the steps and along the tunnel to the further end, coming out onto the hillside to look across the brilliantly engineered face of the dam. Considering the dams were constructed in the 1890s, they are a feat of Victorian engineering and endeavour and worth taking the tour to the reservoirs to see them. Not just that, but the Elan Valley is beautiful; majestic mountains guarding the wooded valleys.
We trekked back to the other side of the dam again and then drove down the valley a short way before coming across Penbont House, a pretty tea room and guest house on the hillside. We parked and walked up the path through the garden, where chickens roamed freely on the lawn and around the flower pots and where hanging baskets and window boxes of blue and white lobelia and red begonias adorned the verandah.
A cream tea was definitely in order, surprisingly the first of the holiday. Martin opted for plain scones, while for me I had lavender ones. They were served on a Welsh slate platter with a pot of clotted cream, pot of jam and a fresh strawberry. I had a pot of Darjeeling, Martin Russian Caravan. It was delicious.
Suitably refreshed and after Martin having made friends with one of the hens, we continued our journey back to Brilley via Rhayader and Builth Wells and Kington.
Too late to cook the roast dinner we had planned, we settled on an 'end of day breakfast' before a bit of TV and then bed.
A good day. Super Sunday."
~ oOo ~
Photos to follow when I can locate them!