Last weekend was beautiful, perfect September weather with early morning fog followed by brilliant sunshine. Saturday proved to be a little better than Sunday but it was still well worth venturing out on to the hills. Remarkably the Black Mountains on Saturday were relatively quiet, perhaps because Abergavenny was bulging at the seams with visitors to the food festival.
On Sunday I met up with friends at Kington for a walk on the Hergest Ridge, not realising that it was the final day of the Kington Walking Festival. Despite the main street being cordoned off with a rather large hole in the middle of it, the town was quite busy with people signed up for one of the several walks advertised for the day. The bonus for us was that the car park was free throughout the festival. We were a select group of eight, a couple of whom I had not seen for some time. Sallie, carrying a heavily bandaged wrist following surgery, which rendered her unable to paddle board, but able to walk and another Sally who missed out on much of this year’s walks because of a family wedding. It was good to see them both. I was also pleased to have Stephen, my son, walking with us. He has spent the last six years working in Papua as a pilot (‘The Worst Place in the World to be a Pilot’). He has now left Indonesia and is looking forward to a few months of adventuring before looking for another job.
Having driven through foggy vales and sunny highs, by the time we reached Kington the fog had lifted but the sun failed to materialise. It was warm and humid.
The climb up the Hergest Ridge is easy, rising steadily up wide grassy paths flanked on either side by browning bracken. It follows the line of Offa’s Dyke. To the north we looked across to the hills of the Radnor Forest, the tops still cloaked in low cloud. To the south, Hay Bluff and Twmpa, and the whole of the northern escarpment of the Black Mountains rose mistily from the Wye Valley.
Coffee break at the monkey puzzle trees
Near the summit there is a small clump of trees planted in a circle. Nothing strange in that, but what is strange here is that these trees are not the sort you would expect to see on an English hill top. They are monkey puzzle trees! Why? Who planted them and why here? Was it something to do with the Hergest gardens on the outskirts of Kington, or the race course on the hill itself? Apparently they were planted by a keen gardener who noticed that the climate on the ridge was similar to the climate in their native Patagonia.
The race course, still visible as a wide, grassy track, was popular in the first half of the 19thC.
Looking across to Radnor Forest from Hergest Ridge
Continuing to the end of the whaleback ridge, we reached the little village of Gladestry, nestling closely under the steep western end of the ridge. The beckoning power of the Royal Oak pub was too great and we ventured inside for some refreshment, for most of us a coffee but it was close enough to lunch for something a little longer. It was a friendly, welcoming pub with a good looking menu that might, on another occasion, have deserved our closer attention.
The nature of the second half of the walk changed having left the pub. I say half, but in reality we had only walked a third of the total distance. We were now picking our way through fields, woodland, country lanes, up and down contours. At times the path was not very clearly defined and many of the stiles were overgrown and hidden in hedges.
We stopped for a late lunch leaning against the wall around Thomas a Becket church in the lovely, sleepy village of Huntington. The church is much smaller inside because of its very thick walls, keeping the building cool. The windows are small ensuring that the light remains dim at all times.
Leaving Huntington we crossed many fields, hidden stiles, waded through nettles, and caught our clothes on overhanging brambles. In places the path, and more particularly the stiles were poorly maintained and difficult to find. I was grateful that I had walked the route two weeks beforehand but even then, I still made a couple of slight errors. At least we did not have to spend twenty minutes, as I did then, looking for hidden stiles. One such hidden stile gave access to a bridge avoiding a ford. Whilst the rest of the group picked their way through the foliage, Sallie and I decided to wade through the ford. Sadly, unlike on my recce, I did not manage to prevent the water from coming over the top of my boots so the rest of the walk was done with wet feet, although I was not particularly aware of it.
Sunlight filtering though the trees on to the River Arrow
Shortly after crossing the River Arrow, by a bridge, the path took us through a cottage garden, across the well manicured lawns. It seemed wrong that we were doing that, but I had met the owner two weeks before and they were perfectly happy for us to be there, saying that people had had the right of way for hundreds of years. Judging by the excellent condition of the lawn, it would appear that not many come this way.
It was a delightful walk with plenty of variety and plenty to interest the mind. Good conversation continued throughout and we were always able to look up at the ridge to the west and see a strange clump of monkey puzzle trees silhouetted against the sky.
