Offa's Dyke: Capel-y-Ffin to Hay-on-Wye

A reminder of Angie's brilliant plan (from my last post): "We would have to descend 820ft (250m) from Hatterrall Ridge to Capel-y-Ffin on the first day (which should be easy), then climb all the way back up again on the second (not so easy)."

My confidence was misplaced. After sitting for a while in St Mary's Church (the one with the wonky bell tower), I attempted to get up, whereupon a sharp pain shot through my right thigh muscle.  Often it's possible to 'walk off' such muscle pains, so I slowly made my way to the guest house where we'd be spending the night.

On the following morning my thigh was still hurting, but I was able to walk without too much of a limp.  Only 9½ miles to go!

This was the splendid view from our bedroom window. I climbed that hill in 2018 and found it surprisingly easy as the path zig-zagged, rather than going straight to the summit. Would the return to Hatterrhall Ridge prove equally easy?

Well, despite my aching thigh, we made the 1 mile ascent from the Afon Honddu in just under an hour – the same time that it had taken to come down.  Not bad for an 'oldie'!

The nicest thing I can say about the northern end of Hatterrall Ridge is that it's reasonably flat. Indeed, it's hardly a ridge at all, with few views of anything other than rough grass and gorse. It's also quite boggy, but made much, much easier to cross thanks to long lengths of stone slabs, for which my aching thigh was very grateful. 

On this stretch the trail follows the Wales-England border. Using the satnav location on my Memory Map app, I amused myself by attempted to walk with my left leg in Wales and my right in England. 

Ah, that's a nicer view – Lord Hereford's Knob. The Welsh blandly call it Twmpa (hump) but I like the English name, even though the 'hump' is in Wales.  It surely ought to be twinned with my native Brown Willy.

Before reaching Hay Bluff the Offa's Dyke path veers right and begins its long descend towards the Wye Valley. The views across the valley to the far-off Shropshire hills are wonderful. From here it truly would be downhill all the way.

Here I am, happily descending the grassy path towards Hay, with Hay Bluff behind me. My thigh was feeling a lot better until we stopped for what felt like a well-earned picnic.  When I rose to my feet... ouch! I rubbed Ibuprofen gel into the aching muscle, swallowed a couple of paracetamols and pressed on. Only 2½ miles to go.

With every faltering step, Hay-on-Wye drew closer. 

 

At last I stood on Hay Bridge and looked down upon the River Wye, our journey complete.  Despite the pain in my right thigh, I can honestly say that I'd thoroughly enjoyed the whole 20 mile trek from Pandy. Hundreds of people follow the Offa's Dyke path between Pandy and Hay every year, most doing it in a single day, so I guess it was no great achievement for this 73 year old, but nonetheless I felt rather pleased with myself.  I also felt that I'd earned the right to a taxi ride back to Pandy, rather that enduring a long bus ride via Hereford.

And so, undeterred, I've already made plans to walk the next section of the trail, from Hay to Knighton. Accommodation en-route has been booked, so watch this space for the next edition of Angie's Offa's Dyke adventure.

Offa's Dyke: Pandy to Capel-y-Ffin

Hatching a plan for walking between Pandy and Hay-on-Wye has not been easy.  In my last post from the Offa's Dyke trail, I planned to walk the whole 17½ miles in one go, spend a night recuperating in Hay, before returning to Pandy via Hereford, by bus on the following day.  

Finally, though, I decided to break the journey at Capel-y-Ffin, spend a night there, then resume the walk to Hay, arriving in time to catch the buses back to Pandy. That would still necessitate only one night in a B&B.  There were, however, a couple of disadvantages to Angie's brilliant plan: firstly, we would have to descend 820ft (250m) from Hatterrall Ridge to Capel-y-Ffin on the first day (which should be easy), then climb all the way back up again on the second (not so easy). It would also increase the total distance to Hay by 2½ miles.

Early in the morning we began the long climb from Pandy, through fields bright with buttercups and up onto the Hatterrall Ridge. That's Skirrid in the distance – one of my favourite hill climbs. 

There are three Trig Points on Hatterrall Ridge. Here I am, posing at the first one. From here, the trail continues to climb gradually, but already – one hour after leaving Pandy – the worst of the climbing was behind us. 

This southern section of Hatterrall Ridge is the most picturesque. The ridge is quite narrow and there are lovely views of the valleys on either side. This is the view looking north.

Cwmyoy's topsy-turvy church is just out of sight, behind that donut-shaped hill. I last walked past those colourful buildings in the good old days of 2019, before anyone had heard of Covid.

And here they are on that 2019 ramble, in a view that looks back towards Hatterrall Ridge.

The lovely Vale of Ewyas, with the ruins of Llanthony Priory just visible in the centre. 

The arrows on this fallen waymark weren't especially useful, but at least the old stone did mark the point at which we left Offa's Dyke for the steep descent to Capel-y-Ffin.

The path looks fairly tame here, but steepens considerably as it zig-zags to the valley floor.

Nearly there now.  Looking back down the valley, towards Llanthony.

Approaching Capel-y-Ffin, we passed this quaint little Baptist chapel. Judging by the 'absent' notice board on the left, I presume that it is no longer used for worship. The door was locked, but I have Wikipedia to thank for this information:

On the other side of the River Honddu is a small, whitewashed Baptist chapel built by the two brothers, William and David Prosser. A wall plaque commemorates their work in bringing The Ministry of the Gospel to their house in the year 1737. And Secured this Place for That Sacred Use for the Time Being. Both died near the End of the Year 1780.

 

Better known is Capel-y-Ffin's Church of St Mary, with it's wonky bell tower and splendid congregation of teddy bears. I'm sure that more teddies have arrived since I was last here in 2018...

... Yes, I'm right!

I will lift up mine eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help, proclaims this writing on one of the church's window – a verse from Psalm 121. For now, dinner and a comfy bed beckon, but tomorrow I too will lift up mine eyes to the hills and hope that the long slog back onto the Hatterrall Ridge won't be too arduous.