Red Kites and Mountains

I'm sure chlorine isn't good for you, I've been snorting and snuffling and sneezing all week!  I've finally worked out why I'm such a biff in the swimming group - they're all iron(wo)man triathletes!!!! (Well that's what I'm telling myself to keep me going through the sessions anyway).   So I survived swim session 4 (probably still on a high from my weight loss ;-) )   and then popped into the Eat, Drink, Bristol Fashion teepee for a couple of glasses of Cloudy Bay and a gossip with a friend.  Wow when you cut down your drinking you really notice how quickly the booze goes to your head!  Scampered home and made healthy stirfry for tea (honest!  I didn't go to the chinese or the thai or the fishnchip shop or the curry house even though I was sorely tempted and egged on by the little white wine devil in my head).

Woke up feeling horrid and went for lunch and more gossip with a couple of mates at the very cool Deco Lounge on Cotham Hill - any place that serves bloody marys and fishfinger sandwiches is cool by my standards!  I didn't feel too guilty as I knew I was off for a long weekend traipsing round the Brecon Beacons so I reckoned I'd need some sustenance in preparation.

I even managed to fit in a swim/bike session on Saturday morning before heading off into the wilds of Wales (God's Country).  I was jumping for joy pleasantly surprised to find that I'd knocked off 30 seconds half a minute (half a minute sounds better don't you think?) from my 500m swim time and 15 seconds off my 10k bike time  - so the hell swim sessions are paying off *bouncy tiger impressions round the room*
The lovely Liz came to pick me up to head off to Llanddeusant Youth Hostel where we had a whole heap of healthy, outdoorsy activities planned for the weekend.   First stop was the Red Kite Cafe at 1500hrs where the owner feeds the Red Kites everyday.
Apparently when the feeding programmes started in the 1990s the Red Kite populations in UK were limited to Wales and there were only 54 breeding pairs in the country - there are not estimated to be up to 900 breeding pairs in Wales alone and I think they were all in Llanddeusant at 1500hrs on 5 May!  In fact they were all early as they were obviously waiting around impatiently for the boss to come out with his bucket of meat.  It was an amazing sight - I've never seen a red kite before, or at least would never have been able to identify it from any other raptor, but I got to see them up close and personal so I will definitely recognise one (or several hundred) again.

After a refreshing hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream (it would have been rude not to) we headed a mile up and down hill and dale to the hostel.  Now it's been about 25 years several hundred months since I was in a youth hostel so I was a little nervous about what I'd let myself in for.  As it wasn't open when we got there - Liz decided we should go for a little wander - now, what I hadn't really grasped is that Liz is a fitness ninja - she goes out running for fun ( I know! weird) and she is a proper mountaineer/climber chick - I should have been pre-warned by her tales of doing the Haute Route over Easter.  Anyway once we'd walked along a country road looking for a farmhouse cafe that seemed to be signposted she suggested that rather than walk back we should go up the hill and finish the circuit that way - no path just a scramble up a field and then follow our noses back to the hostel.  Bloody hell I'd forgotten how knackering it is to walk up steep grass slopes and this was a little one compared to the one I'd over-optimistically suggested for the next day's activities.  I grimly shuffled up the hill, wheezing, while Liz scampered up like a mountain goat.  We finally got to the hostel to find it open and Liz booked us in because I still couldn't breathe/talk.

The hostel was warm and cosy with a big kitchen/dining/lounge area with an open fire.  We were in a bunk room with 3 generations of one family; Mum, Gran and 12 year old, who were out wandering around Wales for something to do over the Bank Holiday.  We opened a bottle of wine and cooked  a very unimaginative chilli while one half of a gay couple whipped up homemade chocolate mousse and some hollandaise sauce to go with some panfried asparagus just to put us to shame (I may be very wrong about them being a gay couple but seriously I've never come across a straight man who would get that culinary on what is essentially a camping trip - well OK I do know one straight man but he's the exception to the rule!)  We spent a very relaxing evening (in the absence of a TV and any mobile signal) doing crosswords, sudoku and listening to overbearing Mum beating her 12 year old at scrabble.  Overbearing Mum, unfortunately also snored, note to self, next time bring ear plugs as well as a sleep mask.....

So having slept intermittently we woke up to have porridge, make sandwiches, and head off on our expedition .  The plan was to go high early onto the ridge and walk around both Llyn v Fan Fach and Llyn y Fan Fawr and then come down and walk around both lakes at water level ending with a wild swim/dip in Llyn y Fan Fach before the final 1 mile trek back to the car.  About 10 miles in all but holy crap did I find it hard - the ascent onto the first ridge seemed to be almost vertical and went on for ever - Liz scampered off doing her mountain goat impression, stopping every now and then to look back and check I wasn't in need of CPR. I wheezed and hobbled behind her, cursing the day I'd had the ridiculous idea to come hiking in the Brecons and wondering why I hadn't chosen someone lazy to come with me so we could have done the 2 mile walk on the road to Llyn y Fan Fach for a quick dip and then headed off to the lovely Farm House cafe that did amazing home made cakes (according to Overbearing Mum).

I had to admit that once I could breathe at the top of the first ridge line the view was pretty spectacular, until I realised that there was another bloody enormous hill to climb after just 200m flat walking! Did I mention that it was at this point it started to hail!
                                                                                     

After what seemed like hours we came round the corner of the ridge line to see the second lake-

and finally got to do some downhill, but that hurt almost as much as the uphill!

I was almost sobbing with relief when we finally got to lake level and the hail stopped and the sun came out to reflect my joy.  While we had met people on the ridge it was fabulous to wander along the lake with not a soul around, with silence apart from the odd bird making the occasional chirrup in disgust at our intrusion.  We finally got to the end of the circle after 4 hours of monumental trogging and we stripped down to our bikinis and timidly edged our way steadfastly dived into Llyn y Fan Fach.  Holy cow it was cold!  Luckily just as we decided to brave the water the sun went in and the wind got up a bit, but we managed it for at least 30 seconds several minutes.  I have to say I think the cold treatment actually eased off my aching muscles and my screaming achilles as the next morning I wasn't in half as much pain as I thought I would be.