Wales Coast to Coast — Stage 10: Devil's Bridge to Tregaron

Summary

Stage ten of my Wales Coast to Coast is the first of two long stages which will take me almost 40 miles closer to Cardiff, and in doing so the two stages will see me complete my walk through the mid-Wales county of Ceredigion. At a little over 16 miles, this first one from Devil's Bridge to Tregaron involves some road walking in the first half of the stage to Pont-rhyd-y-groes and Ysbyty Ystwyth (which is not a problem as traffic is light). The second half is across the rural heartlands of mid-Wales, which includes walking past the ruins of a Cistercian abbey.

The Walk

After yesterday's soaking I was not pleased to see dark clouds and rain falling from the window as I enjoyed my breakfast at the Hafod Hotel. A bit of company kept my spirits up — here is a note I posted on Facebook after breakfast: “To Nathan and Emma — I wish you a very lovely wedding day and a wonderful life together. I have just met Emma, her mum, and her bridesmaids at breakfast in the Hafod Hotel, Devil's Bridge. Lovely people, a delightful breakfast conversation which has set me up nicely for today's walk.”

Rallied a little by meeting such nice people, and after tending to a blister which had formed overnight after the soaking my feet had got yesterday, I set off from Devil's Bridge by following the B4343 road south and towards Pont-rhyd-y-groes. The sky stayed dark, grey clouds scuttling over the land — at least they were high enough to allow me to view the low hills south of Devil's Bridge, the most shapely of them being Pen Felin-wynt. The hills were all over 300 metres high and the cloud stayed higher, and even the early rainfall I looked out to from my breakfast table had stopped — at least that was something! After two and a half miles of road I took a path leading to Craig y Fran — a lot of fields, a bit of bog, and the entertainment provided by quite a lot of sheep helped me merrily along.

I reached tarmac road just short of three miles after leaving the last stretch of it, and to be honest I was glad — my feet were drenched from the wet grass and bog hopping, and the road walking would help my feet dry out a little and also help me progress a bit quicker (which, again to be honest, was the feeling I had!). The third day of rain, and in particular the soakings of yesterday, had affected my morale — the sunshine and euphoria of Snowdonia seemed a long time past! Don't get me wrong, I was still loving the walking; nothing can affect my passion for it, I was just a little grumpy with the weather.

Anyway, back to the matter in hand: I walked into Pont-rhyd-y-groes and soon revived in spirit by an old character who runs a garage with old 1950s Shell fuel pumps still used — “Only for my tractors,” he said. Brilliant! Then down the road I met another gentleman; this one lived in a house beside the road bridge over the River Ystwyth. He was tending his garden: “A bit of dull weather isn't stopping me getting my jobs done,” he said. We wished each other a good day. Next up I started on the 150-metre climb to Ysbyty Ystwyth — it was amazing, but two nice gentlemen and a hill made me feel a whole lot better!

My enjoyable climb was halted halfway by the sight of an overshot waterwheel. I stopped to admire the industrial artifact and would have imagined it was a relic of the local lead-mining activities from the Victorian age if not finding out it was recovered from a local sawmill. Back on the climb I soon arrived in Ysbyty Ystwyth where I stopped at a covered bench by the roadside for a short break — I had been walking for exactly two hours and in doing so had covered five miles, not bad going! At my rest spot I looked across and admired the lovely view of forest covering Ystwyth Gorge, with rolling hills in the background complementing the picture (it was very pretty!). While resting at the bench I also met an elderly lady motorist who stopped her car and asked me about a funny noise it was making — not being a mechanic, I pointed her to a garage I had just passed near the waterwheel. She thanked me for the information and went on her way.

From Ysbyty Ystwyth I followed a minor road for a mile and then left the tarmac to what seemed like déjà vu: a lot of fields, a bit of bog, and the entertainment provided by quite a lot of sheep helped me merrily along (does that sound familiar? It was like a repeat of the walk from Devil's Bridge to Pont-rhyd-y-groes!). There was one marked difference now though, and that was the view I got when looking up into the sky: red kites were everywhere! I am used to seeing these beautiful birds with the most beguiling effortless flight in my home countryside around Harrogate, but here they seemed to be everywhere I looked — which is not surprising, as Ceredigion is a hot spot for the red kite where it survived (albeit in reduced numbers) when they were wiped out by persecution in the rest of Great Britain. I was so heartened to see them soaring above me in the backdrop of a dull grey sky!

A couple of sheep (one all black, one all white) then entertained me by posing as I walked past them — twins perhaps? On the other hand, my feet (which had hardly dried) got wet again in the bog of the feeder marshes to Afon Meurig which fed Afon Teifi and the bigger raised bog of Cors Caron. It was good I was not going that way, instead I kept walking due south to Pontrhydfendigaid.

Just north of Pontrhydfendigaid, while looking down to the village I crossed a field of sheep I could only describe as the glamour models of the species: they resembled poodles with shapely groomed woolly faces! They were quite friendly, and like the young black-and-white sheep I met earlier, up for a photo shoot! Next up I walked downhill to the village of Pontrhydfendigaid. As I approached I got a good view of the Cambrian mountains I would be climbing to tomorrow, but for now though it was time for dinner! I walked down the main street — pretty as a picture with rows of cottages, all painted and coloured in different shades and hues of cream, blue, and green — and to my delight at the Afon Teifi road bridge a small shop with an attached cafe sorted me out with the perfect lunch. Cheers Siop y Bont! It was the best part of the day, just after noon, with eight and a half miles covered (just over halfway). Pleasant shop staff, good food and drink, and I swear I saw a hint of blue sky! Straight outside the cafe I met a wandering minstrel (well, a chap a bit like a hobo who told me he wanders for a living): “Have you got anywhere permanent?” I asked. “I have a cottage here, but I never stay,” he said, suggesting he lives a completely outdoor life — good for him!

I must have been dreaming — there was no blue sky as I went on my way from Pontrhydfendigaid, heading west for a mile and following the course of the River Teifi to the site of a former Cistercian abbey. This one, with an exotic name suggesting hot days and sandy beaches, was nothing like when I arrived outside its high walls: Strata Florida Abbey looked dull, dank, and sad and in complete desertion on this miserable and now raining again day. At the abbey I stopped by the roadside wall to shield from the wind which was picking up and making the donning of my poncho cape a comedy — I managed, just! Then with no time to linger I headed south on a path leading into a plantation forest which offered some respite from the rain. I had rejoined the course of the Cambrian Way at the abbey and followed it into the forest, but left it before exiting — a winding path leading to Garn Gron was a tempter, but it was the wrong way for me today, and anyway with the cloud coming further down to the land I would not see anything up there anyway. Head down I crossed rural uplands to Penffordd from where I followed the road into Tregaron — rain bounced knee-high off the tarmac on occasions, and it is safe to say it was not the best part of my Coast to Coast walk! For about five miles all I looked at were my feet, but they got me to where I wanted to go though.

I arrived in the town of Tregaron all damp and miserable (not me, the town!). The Teifi was bubbling after all the rain of the last few days, while a few hardy locals were walking about the streets and shopping, heads down and slumped under hoods — it was no weather for hanging about! I found my refuge for the night: the Talbot Hotel in the town square where a statue of Reverend Henry Richards (the Apostle of Peace) stood looking over the town. Later on in the evening I met a chap who went by the name of Twm Sion Cati; being a dedicated walker himself he welcomed me to Tregaron and to the Cambrians, and when I told him of my stage up to the Cambrians tomorrow he said, “Blimey, that is a long way!” A couple of weeks later, when back home after my walk, I discovered that Twm Sion Cati was the name of a man reputed to be the Welsh version of English folk hero Robin Hood — had I been hoodwinked?

From my evening Facebook post: “Today the blister on my left foot exploded which is a good thing — it has been tender all day, but well dressed with my first-aid kit and medical skills which got me through the stage. I set off from Devil's Bridge and walked by road and tracks across fields, wet marsh ground, and a section of forest to Pont-rhyd-y-groes... After Pontrhydfendigaid it was paths by river to an old silent abbey and then more tracks, fields, and then road in pouring rain to Tregaron. I ambled through as my ailing foot could not accelerate. After checking in my hotel, showering, and applying new dressing to my foot I feel confident about tomorrow — it is a long one!”