Glyndŵr's Way: Comments on this Long Distance Walk through Mid Wales

Glyndŵr's Way is a 217 kilometre, 135 mile walk through Mid Wales, which I completed in 9 days. The start and finish are close the Offa's Dyke path, which offers a means of extending your hike or creating a circular walk. I began by walking from Abergavenny to Knighton on Offa's Dyke path before starting Glyndŵr's Way.

Beginning with the good points, Glyndŵr's Way passes through small towns, whose centres have a vaguely Victorian feel, with clock towers, old buildings and small shops lining their main streets; butchers and bakers, shoe makers and gift shops. Pubs with old wooden beams were in plentiful supply and evidently enjoyed by the locals. There was usually a pub in the larger villages, full of character, in part due to their clientele. Apart from one night in a camping pod, an upmarket shed with a mattress for your sleeping bag, I slept in a Bed & Breakfast, pub or hotel every night.

Outside of the towns the route consisted of hills, green fields of sheep or cows, moorland and some woods and commercial coniferous plantations. A few months earlier I walked the Cambrian Way, another long distance walk that passes through Mid Wales, so naturally I made comparisons. I found the Cambrian Way a more exciting route, climbing most of the Welsh Mountains, crossing some wild and rugged terrain. Some of it was tough walking as it crossed pathless moors of tussocky reeds, not easy walking. Every day was a bit different as one progressed from the rounded hills of South Wales, to the rugged peaks of Snowdonia via sights such as Devil's bridge and Strata Florida. Glyndŵr's Way is better waymarked and, being a National Trail, somewhat better maintained. Although it avoids the rougher ground found on the Cambrian Way and does not climb 1000 metre mountains it was surprisingly tiring. Every day it repeatedly went up and down hills, none of them that high, but the repetition accumulated large total ascents. My GPS claimed the daily ascents were consistently greater than reported in my guidebook, averaging over 900 metres a day. I was told many people give up or shorten their trip on finding the trail so hard. In terms of countryside, the trail does not really progress, one day could easily be substituted for another. There were a few sites of note outside of the towns: two reservoirs and the scant remains of an abbey.

Of course November was not the best time to complete the trail. Some days of wind and rain were inevitable and added to the mud and sodden ground. Daylight was short making it inadvisable to loiter, as otherwise a difficult walk in the dark to reach my lodgings was required. In spring or summer, the bare branches of the trees would have been replaced by green tunnels and I would have been trying to name all the wild flowers. So maybe I gained an unduly negative impression.

My blog of my trip starts here.

The start of the Glyndŵr's Way section is here.

For a GPX track of my route look in wikiloc.com

Meiford to Welshpool on Glyndŵr's Way: Day 9

My last day on Glyndŵr's Way but no respite from the hills, with short but steep climbs.

Today was much like previous days on Glyndŵr's Way: large green fields, hills, a bit of woodland, some quiet roads, some farm tracks, some crossing fields of sheep and grass, some paths through woodland. There was a tumbledown, abandoned farmhouse, a holiday "village" of green trailer homes similar to others on my trip, and a section with a lot of pheasants which squawked noisily as they took to the air, flapping manically as I walked by. I have always thought of them as rather stupid birds.

Another typical view on Glyndŵr's Way, green field, sheep and trees.

The final hill, beyond a golf course shared with sheep, gave a splendid view. The Welsh hills to the west and to the east, Long Mountain and beyond the plains of England. 

View from my last hill of the trip with Long Mountain in the distance. 

Welshpool, my final Mid Wales town.

I hurried on into Welshpool, not wanting to miss my train, but arrived in time for a coffee and sandwich for lunch. Another Mid Wales town with a clock tower, this time on the Town hall. My final stop before the railway station was an engraved stone pillar on a patch of grass by the Montgomery canal, which marks the end of Glyndŵr's Way and the end of my walk.

Stone memorial marking the finish of the Glyndŵr's Way and the end of  my walk.

Lake Vrynwy to Meifod on Glyndŵr's Way: Day 8

Mist on the lake and riverside walks made my penultimate day a bit special. 

After ordering a "Californian Breakfast" at the Lake Vrynwy hotel, I admired the view from the window of the restaurant. Ethereal clouds of mist were gently drifting across the lake, whose still surface reflected the sky and trees opposite. A Californian breakfast turned out to be small slices of avocado, tomato and bacon stacked in a small piece of bread roll and topped with a poached egg. There were two of these structures to accompany my toast, coffee, orange juice, fruit salad etc..

Morning mist on Lake Vrynwy. 

Taking the quick route back to the lake on a mud slide of a bridle path, I returned to the dam. The RSPB visitor centre was closed due to Covid but someone was still leaving food out for blue tits to feed on while a peacock looked on. 

Today, as usual, I climbed up and down hills (with a long flight of stairs at one point) and crossed green fields of sheep (including a flock of black sheep with white faces), but unique for this section were long riverside walks in sylvan glens. The river, the Afon Efyrnwy, raced down the valley, the water either black or foaming white as it dropped over rocks. In places the path clung to a steep slope above the water, but most of the time the hike was quite "tame". There was also a dark path through a coniferous tree plantation which I rather liked.

Walk beside the Afon Efrnwy.

Tree on the November skyline.

The farms on the Glyndŵr's Way tend to have large barns, surrounded by muddy yards, dirty cows, wandering hens and barking dogs. Wisely, the path usually diverts around them, although the route can be complex and difficult to spot. I wandered around one today, where they were in the process of digging a large hole. Looking in the wrong places I missed the Glyndŵr's Way markers and took the wrong route, fortunately I was not noticed.

There are many chapels of nonconformists strands of Christianity dating from the 19th century such as the one above. Most are no longer in use for religious services.

As sunset approached the clouds made attractive patterns in the sky, so entranced was I that I missed a turn and had to retrace my steps a few hundred yards. I am now at a Bed & Breakfast a few kilometres outside the village of Meifod. Picking up some food for diner at the shop, the owner, seeing my rucksack, commented that tomorrow would be my last day on Glyndŵr's Way.

Llanbrynmair to Lake Vrynwy on Glyndŵr's Way: Day 7

A rain free day but a long one at over 30 kilometres. 

After two days of rain and wind today there were blue skies visible beyond the clouds. After a big breakfast the first part of the walk took me up a ridge. From the top, thanks to the clear weather I could see hills or mountains in all directions. Green where they were farmed for sheep, or else straw coloured grass or red, dead bracken where the hills were topped with moorland. The valleys were neatly divided up by hedges with the occasional farmhouse and its associated collection of modern barns. A flock, or rather a murmuration of starlings was moving around, all the birds landing on a patch of grass or some trees, then all taking off again for no particular reason

Blue skies after days of rain giving some distant views. 

Path over moorland, some of which was pretty boggy threatening more water in my boots, note the yellow topped post marking the trail.

There was a long road section which I appreciated as I could cover the ground faster. The earlier sunset at this time of year meant I needed to get to my destination before it was too dark to see my way across uneven and wet ground. Nevertheless, the café in the village of Llangadfan was too tempting to speed past, I had a quick latte and Bakewell tart. In the afternoon there was an extensive forestry plantation with lots of signs warning of forestry operations. I saw no evidence of any work in progress and as it was Sunday afternoon I thought it most unlikely that anyone was working, so continued along the forest tracks. I finally sighted Lake Vrynwy as dusk was falling.

Finger post showing the way into the forestry plantation, the lichen growing on it suggests it has been there a while.

View of Lake Vrynwy and the retaining dam in the darkening light. Excess water is spilling over it.

The lake is a reservoir for Liverpool. Recent rain had made it so full that water was spilling over the top of the dam, its foaming whiteness standing out in the surrounding darkness.

Leaving Glyndŵr's Way, I followed the road across the top of the dam, then up to the Lake Vrynwy Hotel for the night. Dating from 1890, this large hotel is much posher than I am used to. They checked my temperature with a wall mounted "gun" before letting me check in to confirm I was not suffering from the Coronavirus. It kept reporting my temperature was "Lo", but the receptionist kept trying until it volunteered an actual reading. I have been assigned a time slot for dinner and breakfast to minimise crowding. My room and its associated bathroom is large and I was given two free face masks and a dinky bottle of antibacterial hand gel to protect me from the virus. Diner was of the style that artistically arranges a smallish portion of food on a large plate, which meant I managed three courses. While I preferred the lamb shank I had last night, which was rather less expensive, I did enjoy the opportunity of sampling their port with my cheese course as an Edwardian gentleman might do, and enjoyed a glass of whisky as a digestif, Penderyn as I was in Wales (and as they had no Macallan's).

Machynlleth to Llanbrynmair on Glyndŵr's Way: Day 6

Another day when I was battered by wind and rain.

Machynlleth town centre with clock tower.

Local butchers shop and small shops rather than large supermarkets seem typical of towns in Mid Wales.

I briefly visited Machynlleth town centre to see it in daylight, it was another attractive Mid Wales town with a clock tower. The clock face showed 9:30 (the same as when I passed it last night as it struck 8:00). A sign in the butcher's window said he had received an MBE, not normally a profession in the Queen's honours. I had planned to buy something for lunch at the bakery but decided not to, deciding the large size of the generous breakfast filling my belly would mean I was unlikely to feel like eating again until the evening.

As it rained most of the day, this proved a wise decision, stopping for lunch would have been a miserable experience. Sheets of rain were driven across the hills by strong winds, pelting me with rain drops and rapidly wetting anything exposed. I started with the rain cover on my rucksack but this blew off as I crossed an exposed ridge. All my dry clothes and electric goods were in dry bags in my rucksack so they were protected, but the rucksack itself did drip rather badly when I reached my Bed & Breakfast. 

The initial part of the walk, on roads out of Machynlleth was not too bad, but as the path started crossing hills, it was a matter of just keeping walking. Not that there was much of a view, most of the surrounding country was obscured by clouds. There were a few villages with houses and modestly sized, old mills built of the local grey-green  sandstone, which splits easily into flat but uneven pieces of building stone. As I passed I could smell heating oil, or wood smoke or the dusty taste of coal. Old tractors gave off fumes of diesel. No cafés though. 

Again today I was squelching up and down hills, across large green fields, now saturated with water, the sheep staring at me. Some looked like they had recently had dealings with a ram (based on the coloured patch on their backs, left by a sack attached to the ram). There was a little moorland as well and one section of clear cut forest, but very little shelter from the rain and wind. I was therefore glad I was not camping but could dry out in the Wynnstay Bed & Breakfast at Llanbrynmair. On arriving the owner welcomed me with a cup of tea and a slice of excellent fruit cake (a light texture with some nice bits of dried fruit and glacé cherries). This was despite me dripping everywhere.

One of the enjoyable parts of this trip are the pubs where I have my evening meal. The Wynnstay Arms looked a bit run down from outside but inside it was warm and friendly. I had an excellent lamb shank for my dinner. The sprightly old lady behind the bar cooks the food as well as pulling the pints, so a little wait for service but it was worth it. Only a handful of people were present, one produced films, and I was persuaded to buy a DVD on the history of various sights in Wales.

Dylife to Machynlleth on Glyndŵr's Way: Day 5

A day of rain, water and wind.

Rain fell with variable intensity all day. On more exposed stretches, the wind made the rain colder and more penetrating, splattering rain drops against my face and driving them into cracks between my waterproofs. Streams, already swollen by recent rain, became miniature, foaming torrents. Pools of water were everywhere on the sodden ground. My boots, having kept my feet dry until now, gave up the fight and by afternoon water was squelching between my toes on each step. As far as I could I avoided doing anything but walking, as any disturbance of my clothes or entry into my rucksack let in water.

Not that it affected my spirits. The first part of the walk over moorland, by an old mine and the lake of Glaslyn was an area I also enjoyed when I  walked the Cambrian Way, which Glyndŵr's Way briefly follows. After that there was, as usual for this trail, plenty of ascents and descents on paths, tracks and small roads, mostly through sheep farming country, with a few pine plantations. Pheasants and grouse scattered ahead of me a few times, and there was the sound of extended gunfire in one valley. A pheasant shoot I assumed.

Not stopping for lunch and navigating mainly by waymarks, by 3:00 pm I was wondering how much further I had to walk. Apart from a man and his dog racing past on an All Terrain Vehicle, I had seen no one all day, then I met a couple walking their dogs. Dog walkers are usually a sign that a town is nearby, and so it proved. By 4:00 pm I was outside my guesthouse in Machynlleth, struggling to get into my face mask as required by Covid regulations. Now after a welcome hot shower I have various items of wet clothing scattered about the room to dry.

The only photo I took owing to the rain, the road approaching Machynlleth, which is barely visible through the drizzle.

Llanidloes to Dylife on Glyndŵr's Way: Day 4

A day of rainbows, a reservoir and a ruin.

Llanidloes is a typical Mid Wales town. In the centre is an old black and white market hall where two main streets cross, no longer used for markets there is a more modern (19th century) market nearby where a butcher was already open for business when I left town in the morning. There are plenty of pubs, probably all with old black beams like the one I visited last night, and a variety of small shops, with attractive things to buy but which I did not need or wish to carry in my rucksack. Llanidloes church is said to contain arches taken from Abbey Cwm Hir which I visited yesterday, but it was locked so I could not see them. In the church porch a suggested prayer was written on a drawing of a rainbow, a symbol of hope in the time of Covid 19. As suggested I tied a coloured ribbon on the wrought iron porch gate to represent my prayer. I saw more rainbows later as showers of rain alternated with patches of sunshine, a sign that the world will continue, summer and winter, seed time and harvest, despite the occasional crisis. 

17th century market hall at Llanidloes.

Rainbow, sign of a promise.

Glyndŵr's Way leaves town by crossing the River Severn, briefly following the same path as the Severn Way, a long distance path which follows the river from source to sea. The first stretch of my walk was through woods of oak, beech and holly, before the now familiar hills of sheep and cow pasture. 

The major sites of interest today were the Bryntail lead mine and the dam retaining the Llyn Clywedog reservoir just above it. The former consisted of the ruins of the ore processing plant. Dating from the 19th century, water wheels powered mills that crushed the ore. It was then washed and allowed to settled in tanks which were made of large stone slabs bound together by iron bands. The reservoir was built in the 1960's to prevent flooding of the River Severn downstream. I saw no evidence of any hydroelectric being generated, the substantial energy of the water being released from the dam seems to be wasted, disappointing given the current emphasis on renewable energy. There was a café at the top of the dam, sadly closed until March.

Llyn Clywedog reservoir.

The trail went up and down and around the reservoir over the subsequent kilometres until it eventually headed off into a coniferous forest. Then it was more green fields and a climb. The setting sun was creating beautiful cloudscapes, of blue, white, grey and a smoky orange, too transient for me to capture them on my camera. Eventually a sign advised me to "turn off here" for the Star Inn, and my bed for the night. When I visited earlier this year while walking the Cambrian Way it was full of people, but today, out of season, I was the only person staying the night in this lonely, isolated Inn, where I was welcomed with a much appreciated cup of tea and a wood burning stove in the bar. I was glad a group of four were also having dinner that evening otherwise I would have felt I was putting people to too much trouble.

I took this photo as it felt as if I was walking up into the cloud.