Builth Wells to Bristol

June 1, 2022

train from Abergaveny

Sleep was iffy again and it's seven o'clock when I opt to get up. There are two flights of stairs to go down with my panniers and it's damp outside, which doesn't exactly lift my spirits.

It occurs to me that I've probably taken on more than I can manage today after having agreed to meet my ex tomorrow in Bristol. It means getting to at least Abergaveney's train station today, which entails riding over Gospel Pass in the Breacon Beacons and involve about 75km of cycling. We'll just see how my legs have recovered from yesterday.

After a simple breakfast of poached eggs on toast, I wheel my bike out through the French doors at the back of the dining room and head through the damp parking area, then ride across the deserted town and over the old bridge spanning the River Wye.

There's a cycle path (Route 8) that's hard to find, but my research tells me it's there beside a car repair place and it takes me east.

On the east side of Builth Wells, on the northen bank of the river

It rained for a while and my small oilskin cape comes in handy

There's no surprise when rain starts to fall as I go through a wooden gate. I dig out my boy's oilskin rain cape and ride along a section of cycle path hemmed in by trees and bushes and know the river is over to my left, but can't see it. It's a relief that after five minutes the drizzle eases off and my cape goes back in the saddlebag.

There's a short section of fast A481 to ride on when the path ends at a roundabout, but within a minute the turning south on the B4567 appears and as the sun comes out and the scenery from this elevated point looks spendid. My tripod gets set up for a self-timed shot, but it takes me a couple of goes to get a decent one due to cars photobombing me.

The B road drops and then climbs before becoming mostly flat and my speed is pretty decent. My legs feel fine. Occasionally there's the sight of the river, but most of the time a dense hedge blocks the view, with fields between us. I don't bother stopping for photos.

Thankfully the sun soon appears - now starting at the northern end of the B4567

I reach the crossing over the Wye after going through Boughrood and the lane from here going south is small and grass is growing along its centre. It's a decent climb and then there are a few turns to make and it becomes clear I've made a wrong one, with Google Maps on my cheap phone showing my location away from my intended route when I stop at a threeway junction. Thankfully it's only a minute to go back.

My progress is still good and Hay-on-Wye soon appears. A festival of some sort is on, with a large tent and stalls set back off the road, but there's no time to look around. I do pause when I spot a guy with a stack of clothing and whatever. He has some tea towels and I get one that has a print celebrating the Jarrow March on it - I'll be riding through the northern town fairly soon. He also has a rack full of Barbour waxed jackets, all priced at 50 quid and I tell him my wife would have been interested.

For some reason, Hay is famous as a book mecca and there are numerous shops selling them. It's certainly a popular, touristy town with a nice castle and today it's a pretty busy place with visitors milling around and I'm glad it's not a somewhere I'd planned to stay overnight.

There's a charity shop and I buy three cheap tea towels before poking my head inside the adjacent castle gate. Its pair of studded doors are wonderful and I take a close-up snap of the weathered and battered oak, then see a sign telling me one of them is about 700 years old and they're likely the oldest still in situ in the UK.

Second-hand Barbour waxed jackets at a market

Detail of the studded door to Hay Castle

Needing a bite to eat, I find a place called Annie's cafe at the end of a street that's slightly out the way for most people. The lettering on the window spells out something a bit different and no doubt Annie does't take any crap. I get a bacon and mushroom roll and sit at a wobbly table on the street and enjoy a cup of tea as people come and go.

The sun vanishes again and it seems like it might rain at any minute. Riding over Gospel Pass could be an ordeal and I make my way across town and find the road that heads south. It begins climbing at the junction.

A few cyclists on road bikes cruise past as I spin away. One asks if I'm veering to the right as we approach a fork and I quip that I'm going around the bend.

Tea, cakes and insults - my kind of cafe in Hay-on-Wye

Harley's Almshouses on Church Street - 1832

South of Hay-on-Wye and heading up the Breacon Beacons

I have to walk a bit. It's a long climb and the lane winds along following contours the best it can to eventually reach the pass, which is a spot that never really appears. It's a wonderful route with a breathaking vista on my right. To my left is wonderful too, with rolling hills rising to an undulating horizon.

At what might be considered the top is a parked ice cream van. It's not really the top though - just a flat area. A '99' seems like a good idea to me and the man selling the stuff is affable and tells me some days it's so windy that he can't stay. There are no trees at all, just a few wild ponies grazing on the short grass and some sheep roaming around on the slopes. A few hikers are visible on the path up to one nearby peak, their bright clothes standing out.

After finishing my 99, a cyclist on a loaded bike rides towards me and we stop and chat and exchange notes. He reckons the drop is great but warns me to be careful, as the surface isn't very stable. It's not very far to the pass he says and the inclines from here are rideable.

My '99' treat near the top - it cost four quid

The cyclist was right about the surface. It's completely washed out in places and my speed stays sensible. If a car came along it'd be a problem as there's nowhere to duck into what with the route being so narrow and bordered by hedges and walls.

The descent lasts about 14km and as it eventually eases off there's better tarmac. I stop at a place just past a pub and take a photo of a barn, which is clearly older than most It turns out to be medieval and there's an abbey nearby.

While the road undulates, there's nothing to really test me and I arrive in Abergaveny and ride straight through the town to the staion on the southern edge. It's a shame there's no time to look around, but that's just the way it is. The woman manning the ticket office is nice and sells me a single to Bristol.

It's eight when the train pulls in.

Medieval barn at Court Farm in a spot called Llanthony

There's a Holiday Inn across the road, but the young guy inside says it's full and points me to a nearby Ibis, whch takes some finding as it's in an anonymous building.

The rate I get quoted is high, but the helpful clerk - a woman from Kazakstan named Moon - registers me as a member and it comes down to 94 quid - a tenner less. My bike goes with me in elevator and up to the spacious room and later I end up having dinner in the restaurant. It seems too much trouble to walk anywhere..

Today's ride: 76 km (47 miles)
Total: 939 km (583 miles)

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