Boots

The 'new' walking boots that I bought in April 2017 and blogged about here are no more. After two years and about 700 miles of walking, the right boot developed a large crack; consequently I've been ending recent walks with one damp sock.  Interestingly, the left boot has fared much better.  I think I know why but won't bore you with an explanation.

I'll be the first to admit that those boots received very little tender loving care in their short life. Even after the muddiest of walks I would simply hose them down and leave them to dry in the conservatory or beneath a radiator. Friends who lovingly clean and apply dubbin to their boots after each ramble are now doubtless weeping in despair, but I'm unrepentant.  For £40 they have served me well. I have friends who spent twice, or even three times, that amount and have not received proportionally more wear.

Their replacements are not what one might expect a dedicated rambler to put on her feet, but when I saw them in the shop it was love at first sight.

They cost just £35 and seem to be made of a wellie-boot rubber *, rather than leather, so they probably won't even last as long as their predecessors but what fun I shall have, bringing a splash of colour to Brecon mountain tops!

The first task (of course) is to tone them down a bit with some good old Forest of Dean mud.  Unfortunately, though, this was in short supply during yesterday's warm, Spring afternoon ramble. So here's photo of little me imparting that splash of colour to the oft-visited Point Quarry Tunnel.

* Update: According to Amazon, they are made of leather! Lots of different colours there too, but I still like my pink ones.

Happy Returns

Amid all the excitement of a new smartphone and new spectacles, I forgot to mention that our holiday plans for this year are now complete. I've already written about our plans for the Lake District; to them I can now add a week at the other end of the country – The South Downs and The Isle of Wight. Both locations will (hopefully) be 'happy returns' to areas we have visited before.

First base will be Shipley, in West Sussex, which my good friend Lucy informs me is a very pleasant village, with a handsome old windmill and plenty of paths to explore. It sound idyllic.  It's also only a few miles from the Downs Link footpath which, as its name suggests, will take us onto the South Downs Way. We walked the South Downs from Winchester to Eastbourne on a sometimes misty but mostly baking hot week in September 2007. My lasting memories are the rock-hard chalk footpaths, the questionable joy of tackling the Seven Sisters with tired legs and the sense of elation when Eastbourne finally came into view.

After Shipley we take to the high seas for a ferry trip to the Isle of Wight. On our only other visit there, back in 1971, we were expecting our first child and felt obliged to take things a little easy. Money was tight in those days, so we left our car at my aunt's in Lymington, crossed over to Yarmouth, then caught a bus to Alum Bay to see The Needles.

We walked out to the Old Battery, where there was a 'shilling in the slot' telescope.  I put my little camera to the sharp end and took this photo, which I used to think was wonderful. Mmm,!

In truth, memories of the Isle of Wight are very vague. I remember taking the bus to Newport, changing for one to Shanklin, then returning via the railway and a bus from Ryde, but there are no photographs to record the adventure. This visit will be very different; I've already paid out to take the car and we'll be staying on the island for a few days. Oh, and I can categorically state that pregnancy is a thing of the past! 

A disappointingly insignificant 'new look'

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Can you spot the difference? I don't mean the smile, the hair flipping over my left cheek or the crooked triquetra.  I have a new pair of spectacles, which I had hoped would be noticeably different to the old ones. However, eight days after I donned them, only my loving spouse has noticed the change... and looking at these photos, I'm not surprised.

I can tell the difference for the world has become a little clearer.  Just over a month ago I had my regular 2-yearly eye test, which revealed a slight deterioration in both my distance and near sight. Though my 4-year old old spectacles would still be adequate, Andrew the optician recommended new ones. Somewhat worryingly, he found that my left eye has changed more than my right and that the pressure in the left was a little high – not seriously so, but he wants to see me again in August.

I have nothing but praise for Andrew, who is always most methodical with his examinations. I was, however, rather taken aback to be told that a new pair of vari-focal specs would cost at least £285.  At home I checked the Boots and SpecSaver websites and was relieved to discover that their prices were at least £100 cheaper. I'm all for supporting independent local retailers, but not when it costs me that much!

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Boots served me well 4 years ago and it was to them that I returned. The frames that I finally chose were less ornate than my old ones, have slightly larger lenses and are 'half rim' – no frame material beneath the lenses.  This, I thought, would make my eyes look more attractive... though, as you can see, the improvement is marginal, to say the least.

To start with, despite the efforts of the lady in Boots, the new specs sat too high on my nose. I was contemplating taking them back but finally solved the problem myself by carefully bending and squeezing the little supports. Now I'm happy, despite the absence of acclaim from other people. Indeed, I'm very happy and look forward to them providing me with several years of clear vision.

Fan y Big

This lovely 8½ mile walk in the Brecon Beacons was recommended by my ukulele-playing friends Geoff and Lyn. It begins with strength-sapping climb to Craig y Fan Ddu but after that it's a gentle ramble along ridges of the high Beacons plateau, with spectacular views of the surrounding countryside.

Legs were still strong when I took this first photo. The lower of the two track running through the distant woodlands is the Taff Trail. The level bit follows the course of the old Brecon & Merthyr Junction Railway, which would be fun to explore one day. One for my dotage, perhaps.

Still climbing. The book Walking in the Brecon Beacons is scathing about "the decimation of the Talybont Valley by conifer plantations" and their "disastrous effect on wildlife," but I suppose one has to have commercial woodlands somewhere, so why not here? They are, after all, a renewable resource.

My interest in this walk was first stirred by a photo that Geoff took of Lyn, precariously balanced on an overhanging rock and looking rather worried.  I fancied recreating the scene but chose the wrong rock. As you can see, I'm not nearly worried enough, so I guess we will have to come back and try again.

We were now strolling easily along level ridges. The unseasonably warm weather just got better and better and we could see for miles. We had certainly chosen the best day to come! That's Brecon in the middle distance.

This is the view from Fan y Big, looking north. Lyn tells me that her death-defying rock is somewhere around here.

Looking west from Fan y Big, the next ridge is Cribyn, with Pen y Fan (the highest point in the Brecons) rising above it. I climbed Pen y Fan in July 2016 and took a photo looking in the opposite direction over Cribyn. It was a lot greener in July, though I recall being plagued by midges.

From Fan y Big it was downhill nearly all the way. The track follows an old road where Roman legionnaires once marched. I wonder whether they enjoyed the lovely view back towards Pen y Fan as much as I did?

The tower of the Upper Neuadd Reservoir, built at the turn of the last century, rises cathedral-like above the trees. The modern OS maps show this reservoir to be full of water but it was actually drained several years ago to protect the grade two listed dam.

The path joins the Pontsticill - Talybont road at the site of the former Torpantau Station.  We glimpsed the nearby terminus of the oddly named Brecon Mountain Railway, which climbs no mountains.

From here it was but a short climb up the road and back to the car park.