A day in the Great Smokey Mountains or rather Wales

Day 11 Walking

Dylife to Machynlleth

14.25 official miles, but Lois did it in 10

Individual butter dish

After a hearty breakfast of museli (very good) with extra nuts and seeds, fresh berries, and passion fruit yogurt, followed by poached egg, mushrooms, cooked tomatoes, toast and Welsh honey, and of course coffee, set off from Bron Y Llys - on the road.

Maya and John

Bron Y Llys tucked down below

Decided with the heavy cloud cover, forecast for rain, that taking the high trail was not advisable. One part of the description for today's descent referred to an area called "the chute, a very steep and testing downhill section over loose rock and slippery slate". Thought that was enough to warn me off. As it was, on the road way it was practically impossible to see more than a short distance ahead. This walking in a fog lasted for hours.

Plant life thriving on fence post

Dinner/house companions last evening were two psychotherapists, two computer software developers. Lots of chatting. Well sort of chatting. They were rather stuffy. At least one half of each couple was stuffy and the other chatty.

One husband talked while his wife sat with a book open in front of her which later I saw was a disguise for another book. Either she was reading both at the same time, trying to look "academic", or was hiding a trashy novel that she was secretly reading to avoid conversation.

The couples used to be neighbors and had met at this B&B for the long weekend which includes the Bank holiday on Monday.

The snobbish woman and her spouse now live in northern London just north of Hampstead Heath/Golders Green, where Olivia and I (day of the horrible heel blister) FINALLY found the urn of Anna Pavolva, her swan headpiece, a pair of point shoes, and her husbands urn. Also nearby was Sigmund Freud resting in his pot.

An American man who stayed at Bron Y Llys a few weeks back had came to see where his ancestors were from.

His great great great great (4 greats) grandparents had come from Hirnant a neighboring village (now non existent) in the 1800's. The story was: the great (4) grandfather was in love with his sweetheart a local girl. He wanted to go to America to seek his fortune. She refused to marry him because she didn't want to travel on a big ship across the ocean. He leaves. She stays.

She marries the town minister and two years later he wants to move to America. Now she has to go.

While crossing the ocean the ship captain and crew kill all the men, so they can have the women. Ship arrives in NY, and while the captain is completing the paper work for Customs, the wife/widow and a couple other women escape by letting themselves shimmy down on the rope lines to the dock. Once on land they run away. Short distance down the street the lady runs into her old boyfriend who was at the shipyard getting ready to return to Wales to look for a bride. End of story. Just like in the movies they reunite, get married, have piles of kids, and 4 generations later a descendant returns to seek the source of the family story.

Rooftop and chimney peeking through tree line below the road I was walking on

Other two couples were planning on going to the beach today. Not sure what they will do as it was raining in the morning, but might have cleared off later.

Beach??? When I expressed surprise they pulled out a map and showed how far west I have come and they could get to a inlet bay area in about a half hour - by car. It would probably take me two days, or more.

The host here at Bron Y Llys have to leave their car down at the local "village", a spread out set of about 5 houses, when the weather is bad in winter and walk the mile up here. When asked about snow, well the worst they had was a block of time when it lasted 3 weeks. But it does come and go all winter, and they have frost.

Learned the original cottage which the B&B is situated in and around, started as just two small rooms down and two upstairs. This would have been back when the mine was in full operation. In the four small rooms lived a married couple, their three children, two grandparents, 3 mine workers who later married and had their wives living there also, and possibly any children they had. The then thriving village of Dylife had a population of over 1000 and there were less than 100 structures for living in. Everyone just crammed in together. Forget personal space, breathing room, and your own private corner of the universe.

After goodbye hugs from Maya I departed out the double set of sheep hindrance gates and took to the roadway.

Hours walking down hill in dense cloud cover. Clouds mean retained moisture with constant seepage - mist. Could have been in the Great Smokey Mountains. Nothing to see in any direction. And it was ALL downhill to Machynlleth. That place last night certainly was HIGH up on the ridge line. No wonder the Internet connection was weak.

With the dense cloud cover and misty rain I decided early on to follow the road rather than deal with trail marking not visible, and slippery slopes. Today ended up being rather easy and I saw it sort of as a "rest day". Well part of a day was restful.

Glyndwy's House of Parliament

Stuffy British couples were complaining all the time it seemed. The grouchy man, Chris, grumbled about his knees, toes, the food, life in general.

John, last nights host teaches at Trinity College in Bristol where he stays during the week, and returns to his high high in the hill home in Wales on weekends. Plans to retire in August and just teach a few short length courses in Classics.

Clock Tower in Machynlleth

Sat in wet grass to eat Homemade hummus by Maya, who is from southern India. Waterproof suits work great for walking or sitting to eat lunch.

Last evening Carol (the cheerful) had a large plate of cheeses for desserts, and Rose (the crab) made comments whether we (Americans) had any good cheese, or if we even knew about cheese. Informed the table about our dairy state (Wisconsin) and locally good cheese factory (Dairy State Cheese), cheese heads (Green Bay Packers). and yes we do get some good cheese, but maybe not up to Welsh standards.

But imported cheeses are available so it isn't like we are living "in the back of beyond".

Cost of meals when eating in-house has been pricey I thought. But considering the driving distance to get the food probably reasonable. Basic grocery items for one lady was 18 miles round trip. Better supply was 40 miles.

On arrival here in Machynlleth today I met a couple on the side walk who turned out to be the postman from yesterday who waved me onward as I was departing Llandoise, and he was trying to pull into a space to park (just before I spotted the dead hedgehog) and his wife.

Later talked with a woman while I was checking out Owain Glyndwy's House of Parliament. She apparently passed me twice this morning while I was road walking and she doing errands. Guess an American walking in the cloud interested her.

Dog is a cross between a Newfoundland and Saint Bernard.

Tried to find blister bandaids (plasters here) for my feet, but the grocery store didn't have any, the pharmacy was closed. and will probably be tomorrow also for the Bank Holiday. Will have to make do with what I have in my arsenal of meager supplies.

Suburbia

There are two of these sheep skins rugs on the floor in my room - baa baa!

Feet In Sheep

Tonight's lovely accommodation Dyfi View B&B is up on a hill in a new subdivision. Very nice. Michael the host looks like an old hippie with a long ponytail and was out working in his garden when I arrived. His garden lushly fills the entire sloped land he owns.