Nant Gwilw walk

A view from yesterday's walk . . .

If you look at the central ivy-clad oak tree in this picture, and go back one field to the smaller trees behind it, Ffosgrech, of which nothing remains other than a census entry, stood just where the three trees meet the woodland on the left. A lovely spot on a day like yesterday. Not so good when it faced into the wild wet westerlies we are used to here.



After two days without a walk due to resting (Monday) and weather (it would have been MADNESS on Tuesday), yesterday's clear blue skies and ice-cold sunshine tempted me out, in my new walking boots. I planned to walk about 4 miles - up to Nant Gwilw and back. Nant Gwilw is a ruined farmhouse - currently under offer (but only the bravest would take it on!)

I have written about it before, but it is easier to repeat myself than to link back to the earlier posting.

http://www.jlb2005.plus.com/walespic/llanfynydd/030222-4.htm

The above link shows you how Nant Gwilw looked a few years back, and tells you a little about the history, including the legend of the Nant Gwilw iris, which made it all the way to America. I know of no battle hereabouts, but when I was there yesterday, the house held a very negative and unpleasant atmosphere - so much so I couldn't wait to get away from it . . .

Just inside the wood margin along the top, is the trackway which led up to Grosfrech, and the picture is just one field across from the one at the top of the page.

The beginning of the trackway up to Ffosgrech, and my weekend walk will be up this trackway, up through the woods and back along the lanes . . .

View across the valley to where I was walking last weekend.

This was a converted barn, using by a printing company back in the early 1970s. Doesn't take long to fall into complete delapidation . . .

Steps up to the top floor of the barn, where any farm servants would have slept.

They had some interesting sanitary arrangements it would seem . . .

You don't get much more dilapidated than this - roof half off, top floor fallen along with the staircase, and everything just fallen in.

Or covered in ivy . . .

Or smashed . . .

It sits between two streams, but still manages to be in a bog . . . As you can see, not much roof left either.

The remains of the orchard, where only two aged apple trees remain. I picked up two apples to try and grow on from seed. The nearest identification I can get is a Crimson Bramley, but they could be an old Welsh cider apple type for all I know.

Opposite the house is a massive maiden oak, which must be about 700 years old. I'm sure it could tell some tales . . .

The road home . . .