Beacons Way, Day 7

A slight breeze on Crug Mawr summit.

I greet the day filled with trepidation, the horrors of yesterday compounded by the memory of the pub landlord last night describing the weather forecast as 'appalling'.  It certainly rained all night, and is still drizzling as I drag myself from my tent, and proceed to fanny around, even having a shower... it is past 11 before I head onwards.

Trail magic!

At least, only 18 miles today.  And, as the day wears on, the weather starts to improve, the cloud ceiling lifts up, and the rain reaches the point that a Brummie, or I suppose a Welshman, would not call it rain at all.  Tramping over the peaks and ridges I recall why I wanted to do this, to seek out the high places, with the sky within touching distance and the land spread out around me.  It is good.

As I head down from the hills I again get lost, I swear the sign was pointing the wrong way... well, only a little fence jumping, and a few hundred yards of extreme climb up a bracken covered slope gets me back on track.  The evening finds me at Llanthony Priory, the still impressive ruins including a pub built into the remaining lower floor.  Felinfoel Double Dragon, all good.

Beer in the crypt.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.