Three Castles Walk

If August, during this otherwise glorious summer, has been a bit of a disappointment with more rain and cooler temperatures, it certainly decided to go out in a blaze of glory as ten of us tackled the Three Castles Walk on the last two days of the month.

David and I set out to establish camp at Meredith Farm at Llancloudy on Friday afternoon. It is called a farm but feels more like a menagerie. There are two large fields, one referred to as the ‘very quiet field’ and the other the ‘games field’. We were pitching in the games field with rope swings hanging from large trees and numerous animal pens housing pigs, sheep, goats, ducks, chickens, guinea fowl and a play area with guinea pigs among the plastic toys. A ‘Wendy’ house tucked under trees provided toilet, showering and washing facilities as well as a library of books and a chest of children’s toys. A real family orientated campsite and clearly popular as there were several families having a final treat before the start of the new school year. In the early evening the farmer, Dr Neil Wheeler, would come to feed the animals and he would have a following of children, and parents, as they were all encouraged to become involved.

David sporting the 'Lobster of Laughter'

David sporting the ‘Lobster of Laughter’

It was quite breezy as David and I erected our two shelters, which would form the kitchen and dining areas, and it took rather longer than expected to put them up. Tents were still being erected when the first of the group members began to arrive. Thankfully, friends, Richard and Anita, arrived to collect some pears from me, and got roped into helping put tents up. It remained dry throughout but as we settled down to evening drinks and pasta bolognese we had spells of light rain. After the meal, David was presented with the ‘Lobster of Laughter’ for omitting to pack the gas rings before he left home. Thankfully, Annie, David’s wife, came to the rescue. The plastic lobster was found in the toy chest and he would have to look after it throughout the next day.

Skenfrith Castle

Skenfrith Castle

The morning dawned reasonably bright and dry, although the light rain of the previous evening would guarantee that long grass would hold its moisture for a while and give our feet a good soaking. There was no great rush as we were only hoping to cover a little under ten miles and we needed to move a car to the finish point at Lower Green. While that was happening the rest of the group enjoyed exploring Skenfrith Castle, the church and the church yard where there were lots of ripe and juicy plums fallen from the trees but kept moist in the damp grass. As a result it was shortly after 10.00 that we set out on the walk.

Skirting round the edge of a newly prepared field

Skirting round the edge of a newly prepared field

The walk proved as delightful as it had been three weeks previously although there were obvious signs of progression with the farming year. What had been fields of cereal crops were now fields of stubble and those that had been stubble were ploughed ready for use again. Bales of straw, which littered the fields earlier, were now carefully stored in barns. Thankfully, we encountered very few fields of long, damp grass so our feet remained comfortable throughout.

DSC_0004As the day progressed the weather improved further and it proved quite warm. The strong breeze of the day before had gone. Occasionally we came across information boards giving an insight into the history of the area from the medieval, castle building, era through to more modern times. Part of the route we were taking was a major coaching route from London to Ross to Abergavenny to Milford Haven. We passed a now ruined coaching in with attached blacksmith forge, neither used since the early 19thC and with the passage of time and the changes to the landscape it is difficult to imagine how they were ever reached by coach. The descent to the inn is fairly precarious on foot.

White Castle from the gateway.

White Castle from the gateway.

Soon after lunching in a field with a view we reached White Castle, the most complete of the three and the only one that requires you to pay an entry fee. The woman on the kiosk looked dreadful and complained of feeling ill for the last three weeks. As a result she wasn’t very welcoming and should not have been there at all. We declined the opportunity of going into the castle, largely because we did not expect to see much more than we could see in both Skenfrith and Grosmont, both of which are more easily accessible.

The Skirrid and Sugarloaf with a hint of autumnal colours in the foreground

The Skirrid and Sugarloaf with a hint of autumnal colours in the foreground

The scenery on this walk just gets better and better. In the morning we had views of Blorenge and the Skirrid but as the afternoon unfolded and we moved slightly north of the Skirrid, Sugarloaf came into view along with the rest of the eastern side of the Black Mountains with Pen y Gadair Fawr poking its summit above the ridges in the foreground.  Even further afield, through the haze, the Brecon Beacons began to show. It was a glorious day.

We reached Lower Green at about 3.40pm and although the cars were there to take us either back to camp or to the White Castle Vineyard there was no Angela to drive the second car. David had to go and rescue her, she having been misdirected by a farmer and thus not intercepting us en route. By the time we were ready to pile into the cars a cup of tea and some cake was far more enticing than a glass of wine, so we headed straight back to camp for leisurely cups of tea and a variety of yummy cakes.

I made the mistake of going for a shower at about the same time as the menagerie were to be fed. The small shower cubicle had a window overlooking numerous tree swings and adjacent to a pen containing two pigs. The only thing separating the shower from the outside world was a net curtain. As I am drying myself lots of children and their parents came to feed the pigs. One mother came to lean on the windowsill two feet from my naked body. One worries at times like this just how effective net curtains are. If she saw anything it did not register. When I had finished I just had to check and, yes, net curtains are very effective, she saw nothing. Phew!

The farmer persuaded us to buy twenty lamb chops off him for our meal that evening and at £1 a chop it was good value. They were reasonably sized and probably belonged to the sheep that greeted me when I went to book the site a couple of months previously. The rest of the evening was spent in amusing chatter and another wonderful poem from Ann, who is becoming Adventure Guide’s own poet laureate. We had touched on the theme of forgetting things in our conversation the previous evening , particularly in the light of David forgetting the gas rings. Bearing in mind the reference to Thomas, Walton, Angela Treks (T.W.A.Ts) on Hadrian’s Wall she quickly put together the following:

ADVENTURE V DEMENTIA

Apparently I’m at that funny age
When arthritis steps in to where my hormones once raged
My face is all wrinkled (tho I was never a looker)
I’ve lost all my marbles. Thank God, not the cooker (sorry David!}
My blonde hair’s turned grey and I’ve lines on my face
And my body looks like a sack in a race
I forget where I’m going, forget names and places
And can’t find things in the simplest of places
I once tried to phone with the TV remote
Put T-pots in fridges and forgot when to vote
I snore when I sleep, and I’ve started to dribble
Johns caught it on film… so that fact, I can’t quibble
One day, I read that to ward off Dementia
Exercise loads…. take a walking adventure
It keeps the brain going…. sharp as a tack
Go walking for miles and still find your way back
So I bought all the gear, with boots firm and stout
Now I can walk for as long as my bladder holds out
I’m fit, refreshed and ready for grub
And don’t have to dither ‘tween tea-room or pub (pub!)
I’m sharp and alert and now fully aware
I’ve proved to myself I’ve still got it up there
I’ve stopped having to search for purse, keys or phone
My husbands impressed I can find my way home
I’m living proof Adventure cures all your ills
So swap potions for oceans, and pills for some hills
Walking is good for you, I’ve studied the facts
So start getting active by walking with T.W.A.Ts
                                                                                 Ann Jones

Brilliant! I am always full of admiration for anybody who so easily puts poetic pen to paper. As we adjourned to our tents for the night we marvelled at the night sky, ablaze with stars and the very distant explosions of fireworks over in the general direction of Hereford.

The chapel at Upper Green

The chapel at Upper Green

The morning dawned bright and clear and after another leisurely breakfast we drove to Lower Green and our finishing point of the day before. The walk today was going to be that little bit harder with two decent hills in ever increasing temperatures. The chapel at Upper Green stands completely surrounded by fields, trees and rolling hills. It is in such a beautiful setting and on this particular Sunday morning seemed to be full for a service and flower festival.

What a view!

What a view!

The first test of the day was the ascent of Edmund’s Tump. It was sufficient to get the heart pumping and sweat dripping from our brows. However, it was worth every effort as the view revealed itself on a glorious day. Before us lay Blorenge and the whole of its accompanying ridge hiding the once industrialised valley where Blaenavon nestles, the Skirrid, Sugarloaf, the whole of the Black Mountains ending with Hay Bluff and, in the distance, the Brecon Beacons. It was a pleasure to take time to recover from the effort of the climb and just soak in the view. We could not have seen it looking any better.

The climb continued a little way into the woods lining the ridge of Edmund’s Tump before we followed its line and eventually began the long descent into Grosmont. Occasionally, through the trees, we were given glimpses to the east of Penyard Hill overlooking Ross-on-Wye and May Hill. Similarly, gaps in another direction gave us views overlooking Grosmont, a most attractive village with its castle turrets rising just to the right of the centre. The many roofs with solar panels gave the village some modernity.

The battlements of Grosmont Castle

The battlements of Grosmont Castle

The village has retained its shop and post office and the pub is still at the heart of the village. The church is large and well worth the time to have a browse around. However, on this occasion we bypassed the church, the shop and the pub and headed straight to the castle for our picnic lunch. As we approached the people in the house adjacent to the castle were pottering in their garden and I couldn’t help think how lucky they are living in a beautiful village next to a medieval castle. I wonder if they appreciate it?

We had now visited all three castles and all that was left for us to do was make our way back to Skenfrith. The route dropped from Grosmont along the road for a while before beginning a lengthy climb through fields and woodland, only to drop down again. From our descent we now had views looking across to the Malvern Hills. It was hot in the still air with the sun beating down.

When I did the walk three weeks ago I made a slight error in navigation and instead of following the official trail followed one that ran slightly higher but parallel, but ultimately ending up in the same place. Thinking I knew how to avoid a similar mistake and did not need the map to hand, I fell into the same trap and we found ourselves similarly off track. This time we endeavoured to correct it. It did not diminish or detract from the walk as a whole. However, I felt slightly uncomfortable at one point. When you enter a field of cows, they often stop what they are doing and stare. They are not always standing the same way but their heads are turned in your direction and as a person you are never sure whether they will stay where they are or take a closer look. I had gone to look for the best route to pick up the trail and when I finally met up with the group who had avoided climbing a barbed wire fence, and thus made better progress, they were standing in no particular uniform direction and their heads were all turned towards me. Would they accept me into their group or would they shun me. The similarity between the two scenarios was uncanny and, as I say, for a moment I felt slightly uncomfortable. I am pleased to say they accepted me back into their herd and did not trample me to death!

Tea and cakes bring a really good weekend to an end.

Tea and cakes bring a really good weekend to an end.

Angela was waiting for us in Skenfrith and after an ice cream we headed back to camp for tea and cakes. It was good to relax a while in camp, to spare a little thought to the two days of walking, to appreciate that we had been walking in a stunning area of border country and that we were justifiably tired. With that thought we struck camp and headed home, this time for a shower without a stranger standing eighteen inches from me.

 

 



									

Three Castles Walk – Recce

In three weeks time I shall be taking a group around the Three Castles Walk over a weekend. I needed to have a look at it myself so set out to complete the 19 miles or so in one day.

Skenfrith Castle

Skenfrith Castle

It was a beautiful Saturday so I drove over to Skenfrith, the site of the first castle. Setting out, I had a number of thoughts going through my mind. I had heard that the route was not very well way marked. I had heard that farmers like to put their bulls in the fields you have to pass through. I thought of all the protective dogs I was going to have to pass and I thought about the distance I had to cover. It is not a huge distance but I am beginning to find, as age catches up with me, that long days have a negative effect on my joints.

With the exception of the last thought I need not have worried. The route was well way marked and the couple of occasions I did go wrong was down to me not following instructions closely enough. Hardly a cow, let alone a bull, was to be seen and those that I did see saw no interest in me at all. Even the dogs had signed a non-aggression pact for the day and simply rolled their eyes as I walked past.

The harvest in with Blorenge and the Skirrid

The harvest in with Blorenge and the Skirrid

It was a thoroughly good walk with some outstanding views of Blorenge, the Skirrid, eventually Sugarloaf and the whole of the Black Mountains all to the west, and in the closing stages of the walk distant views of Penyard above Ross, May Hill and the Malverns.  As good as the views were, it was the smaller pleasures that I came across that made this walk so good – the birdsong from the abundance of birds in the hedgerows, many too camouflaged to identify, a family of buzzards circling on thermals above a newly harvested field with the young mewling their plaintive cry, dragon flies darting in the air, rabbits dashing for cover as I approached, sheep so busy eating that they did not notice me until the last minute and then scamper in fright, grasshoppers playing dare, seeing who could wait the longest before my foot stepped on them but always making an escape, butterflies in profusion of every size and colour, some camouflaged for protection while others were vivid blue, thistle down floating lazily in the breeze looking for somewhere to settle and the sound of farm machinery bringing in straw or harvesting a bumper crop of oats. It was beautiful and there was always something to take your mind off the ever increasing aching limbs.

The patchwork of fields with the Black Mountains in the distance

The patchwork of fields with the Black Mountains in the distance

The walk to White Castle was relatively easy, never particularly hilly but undulating. It was warm, particularly in the lea of a hill so it was always a welcome relief to expose myself to the breeze every-so-often. It took me a little under three hours to reach White Castle. With a group it will take longer as I took no breaks at all and they won’t be under any time pressure as they won’t be doing the full circuit. The only pressure they may feel is if they wish to visit White Castle Vineyard at the end of the day, before it closes at 5.00. Of the three castles, White Castle is the only one that demands an entry fee and it often has weekend activities. While there I saw wandering minstrels and maids, who, sadly, I discovered won’t be there in three weeks time.

The village of Grosmont with castle to the right

The village of Grosmont with castle to the right

Moving on the route began to get more hilly, but by the time I reached the finish point between Lower and Upper Green for our next venture on this walk I was satisfied that it would be a good day well within the capabilities of the group. However, I was beginning to feel less comfortable. There are so many stiles on this walk that I was beginning to get cramp every time I hoisted myself over. I was slowing down, so this middle third, supposedly slightly shorter than the first third, seemed to be taking a long time. The hills became longer and steeper and I was beginning to run low on water. The climb up to Edmund’s Tump was hard work but it was followed by a long ridge walk through woodland, which helped cool me down. This was followed by a long, knee jarring descent into Grosmont. By the time I reached the village, I was not interested in the castle but the village shop where I bought water and immediately sank 2 litres. The village pub was a few doors away but I had to resist; I knew that if I sat down for a pint I would not want to get up again. I still had the final third, all be it slightly shorter again, to complete.

Grosmont Castle

Grosmont Castle

There was another long and punishing climb out of Grosmont with numerous cramp inducing stiles. Leaving the fields the route takes you through woodland, still climbing, but eventually brings you into another field, whereupon cresting the hill you can begin to think about the finish. The path then follows the ridge line before descending to the valley floor. It is on this section that you begin to come across another way mark for the Monnow Way, and the last couple of miles brings you in touch with the River Monnow, a delightful stretch of river before finally returning to Skenfrith. As I sat by my car eating the remains of my lunch the noise of children at play behind the castle walls could be heard. Or were they at play? I suddenly found myself under attack as a football came flying over the castle walls, bouncing a few feet from me. I was too tired to send it back and eventually a dad came from the castle to retrieve it. This just highlights the differences between Skenfrith and Grosmont with White Castle. How fabulous that families can play unrestrained in a medieval castle.

It took me nine hours and fifteen minutes and I can only have stopped for a total of twenty minutes throughout the day. It is right to do this over two days; I certainly would not do it over one again. Remarkably, I saw not another soul all day!

As I eased myself into my car the raindrops began to fall bringing a damp end to a glorious day. Hurricane Bertha was on her way.