Yesterday was a triumphant day, longest day yet at 19 miles, and crossing over Hatterrall Ridge, on the eastern edge of the Brecon Beacons National Park. We climbed about 2,600ft, and pretty much hobbled down the same to get back to Wye River. Today we are resting in the quiet book-centric town of Hay, over 20 bookshops in the small market town, and home to the international Hay Literary Festival at the end of May. Today also marks 5 weeks of walking for me at 350 miles. This fifth rest day feels good. My feet are very not happy with the trail right now; about 5 days ago blisters started on the inner arches of both feet, and they’re not healing well. And the Morton neuroma in my right foot must be growing or really bugged because it is beginning to cause some weird mild numbness. I’ll have to watch that. Fortunately, the rest of me feels tired but great. We went to an Iyengar yoga class this morning and that was a brilliant decision, even though it was a challenge to drag myself out of the cozy bed. So good to move in different ways, and let somebody else gently direct the action.
Yesterday morning started off with a mildly up and downy walk across fields of horses (a foal and its mommy and a donkey included!), interesting old barns, interesting and interested sheep, a delicious field of dandelions to get to the start of the climb up the ridge. We had believed it was going to be a flat 2 miles, so were a bit surprised. But we had started early before 8, so we were feeling fresh and full of energy. The climb up wasn’t as bad as we had anticipated, it was gradual, and the views (despite low clouds and threatening rain) grew in beauty and vastness.
The ridge runs 10 miles, with views of a glacier formed valley to the west and a sharp drop to vast squares of farmland to the east. It was forecasted to rain a lot, but it never did. It stayed cool and misty, perfect for walking across the heathland full of wild welsh ponies and foraging sheep, and then the stone pathway of the higher boggy peat a little higher up. We shared our amazement at the building of and gratitude for the huge paving stones that had been laid across the watery boggy soil. The national trail is clearly marked, but there are many trails crisscrossing the ridge, and we were chatting away as usual and took a wrong turn. As the path started to descend a little I realized it, so we backtracked and clambered back up; not too far off the correct way. It is possible to walk down to a small hamlet on either side of the ridge and break up this day’s long journey, but then you’d have to climb back up the next day to continue. We decided when planning to just go for the whole 19 mile distance. I’m glad we did. You feel its grandeur in the landscape more greatly, its significant border space between England and Wales. We stopped for a 20 minute lunch at a trig point, the only place to sit for the entire distance. The innkeeper had made us hearty sandwiches: more kindness, more gratitude.
We continued past disused rock quarries and old piles of stones (these were marked on the map ‘stone piles’ and when I saw the mile of them I understood the map reference), and eventually we came to the descent off the ridge. Offa’s Dyke forks at this point, and we weren’t sure which was the best (read ‘easiest’) way down. Luckily two hikers who looked like they knew their way around, and with whom we had leap frogged along the ridge, passed by and pulled out their big paper OS map to show us what we wanted to know. My feet were screaming by this point, and I don’t think Rachel’s were much happier. Our way down was gentle and pretty.
Disappointingly, Hay town was not right at the bottom, but a further 3 miles on. More old quarries, more sheep, more views, one steep forest descent, one very friendly and politically aligned farmstead offering, and we arrived. Found our Airbnb, soaked our feet, ate some protein (I had read from another End-to-End hiker that protein within 15 minutes of finishing helps recovery. So far it seems to be working), made a cup of tea, and collapsed.
Hay-on-Wye is lovely, unusually quiet, and has a launderette, books, a castle & old butter market space, and a yoga studio. I even found a poetry bookshop; not open today but there was a lovely poem in the window. Perfect for a day off.
