If you’ve followed my previous blogs, you will remember that in a rash moment I said that I would do some gardening when the camellia stopped flowering. That moment is dangerously close and I’m trying to find some way of getting out of this. My friends have tried to be helpful, but aversion therapy sounds like torture and the suggestion that I could become another Alan Titchmarsh horrifies me. Sorry Alan, but all that much gardening is just not for me.
So, since the camellia is still in flower I don’t need an excuse not to do gardening today. Besides, it’s too cold for gardening! (Must remember that excuse!)
A few years ago I went in search of a viewpoint where I could photograph a panorama of the Severn Estuary. I found one on a bridge over the M4 motorway. I never did the panorama, but I thought it would be a nice walk and I could perhaps get a nice picture of the Severn Estuary.
The weather was not good for photography since the sky was overcast so I had a quick lunch and then set off.
The route chosen goes along Pentrepoeth Road alongside The Ruperra public house. This pub has an interesting sign depicting two boys in Victorian dress scrumping apples. One boy is bent over, hands on knees, while the other stands on his back to reach the apples. This was a technique we had tried after Sunday School to pinch cherries from an overhanging cherry tree in the garden of the bank next door. It wasn’t very successful, especially when the stern face of the bank manager peered over the wall to catch us in the act! It was my first and last attempt at bank robbery, and ever since banks have got their own back on me.
The road I was taking was only just wide enough for two cars to pass and I was constantly on the lookout for traffic.
There are a few houses at the start of the route, terraced ones to start and then much larger houses further up. Also there is the Badger’s wood development. Why do developers insist on calling their developments after the things which they destroy! There is even a gated community!!! One large house in a splendid position with wonderful views over the countryside is surrounded all round with tall fir trees. The trees give them a limited amount of privacy, but block the view which this splendid site would afford.
Away from the houses, the fields on either side are put to varying use, and in some horses are grazing.
At Croescarneinion farm there is a restaurant called the Farmer’s Daughter, Because it was started by the Farmer’s daughter. She provided typical country food not usual in a restaurant. The restaurant, situated in a barn on the site, has since been sold and the new owner provides more traditional fare.
There were many flowers in bloom along the route, noteworthy of which were the small clumps of daffodils planted at the entrance gates to fields and farm drives. In the distance I could see a large mock Tudor building which I thought must be a pub. As I drew closer I noticed it was up for sale and the notice described it as “a fine family home”! It must have had ten bedrooms; that’s some family!
Pity about the pub, I could have done with Bernard the St Bernard at this point. Do feel free to pour yourself a stiff drink before we continue on this journey.
The road I was looking for was a turning to the left. Last time I had come by car, so the distances didn’t seem that great and I’m beginning to wonder have I missed it, but just as I was thinking of turning round, I saw the turning in the distance. Well having come this far I may as well continue.
I’m glad I did. The road was a single track road leading to a couple of farms and some houses. It was also a steady climb to the top of the ridge, although as with most hill walks you are confident that your path leads to the top, you can never actually see how far the top is! But I was rewarded with the highlight of my walk: a chaffinch singing so beautifully in a tree. I could just about see him, but as I moved my position to get a better view, he must have moved and I could no longer find him.
I went further up the track, but it became obvious that it was going to be too far to the top since my knees were already complaining, so I retraced my steps.
Two ladies on horseback passed me and we exchanged greetings, but they ignored my request for a lift. They were huge horses and there was plenty of room for me behind the driver!
Pentrepoeth road is a waymarked cycle route and there were a number of cyclists who passed me, some at great speed. On the hilly sections I was able to shout encouragement to the cyclists, especially as I was going downhill and they were going up.
By the time I had reached the Ruperra Inn again, I was badly in need of a sit down, oh alright then, I wanted a beer! The bar isn’t a large room and is dominated by the large tables for the pub meals and spaces between the tables were quite narrow. I squeezed through to a small table by the window with my beverage. The decor is typical of small welsh pubs and dominated by rugby memorabilia. There was a fine collection of grogs of those heroic players of the 70’s. (For those of you unfamiliar with grogs, they are small porcelain statues of caricatures, the most popular being rugby players from the Welsh Team.)
The bar wasn’t busy. There was a small group who appeared to be holding a committee meeting. They were complaining about the fact that many members just wanted to turn up and enjoy the facilities without putting any work in. At this point a few members of the group felt obliged to point out how much work they put in!
There were also another couple of walkers in the bar that I had seen in the distance, but they had turned off towards Rhiwderin before we met. They took their walking seriously; I know that because they have those Nordic walking sticks.
Refreshed I was ready to tackle the hill home, but this time I took the short cut which wasn’t so steep. As I reached my house, my heart sank! Some of the flowers on the camellia were already fading. Fortunately the bush is still full of buds.
Safely ensconced with a cup of tea and a biscuit, I checked the step counter. Crikey! No wonder my knees are complaining, I didn’t realise it counts up that high!
As I sit here the sun has just come out highlighting the work that needs to be done in the garden, but my knees are too hurty and I think the neighbours might disapprove of gardening in pjs.
