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Driving was now becoming a fabulous game reminiscent of the finest rally tradition, our baby Ferrari proving the Italian engineers design skills on the often wet road where you could never know what the next corner held.
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On the often wet road, where one could never know what the next corner held, it was only once that luck was against us when a full panic stop was required when a Land Rover materialized under "Cefn (ridge) Cnwc" leaving me nowhere to go but back to a part of the road where two vehicles were able to pass.
By noon we found ourself delayed at a crossroads high in the mountains at a local sheep station where a large lorry blocked the entire crossroads whilst loading sheep. This caused a traffic jam which consisted of the collection of all of 4 cars over an half hour period, at what was perhaps the only crossroads within 20 miles.
Another blanket of cloud shrouded the ridge as the summit fell behind us revealing a green grey valley sloping away before us.The road now became somewhat less mountainous, where there would be an occasional passing spot to squeeze by any unexpected vehicle which might appear over the crest of a hill ahead or around a craig, as we dropped towards the stream below us.
A tent perched atop mountain at one such precarious space where a passing had been provided in the road still wrapped in clouds, what an incredible location to be able to reach by car however daring the drive!
The land softened slightly as we reached the floor of this high mountain valley nestled under "Drum Dhu", with its soft green carpet of grass surrounding the grey stone punctuations, through which ran a swiftly running stream,with sheep scattered on the lush meadow beyond foraging for lunch. We paused, and Edgar made his first of many exploratory visits to the stream hoping for a reward of a trout hiding under every rock, but alas no such luck . After the last several hours it appeared we were not totally alone in this country, there were another two cars tucked into a lay-by and we found the occupants of the hilltop tent sketching this beautiful scenery from different
vantage points.
The road ran downwards now, almost gentley, as the valley below began to widen. Barely below the tree line I caught sight of a marker proclaiming yet another point of interest " Wolfshead lookout ". A rough cut trail which Edgar proclaimed to be a logging road, impassable for us made its way off to the left, but in spite of Edgar's protestations, I followed to its conclusion.
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Perhaps a half mile along this true path we were rewarded by a view of the north west slope of the Mountains where we could see the road we had been on threading itself downward towards Tregeron. Now I cursed our lack of forethought and lack of film as this was the very finest beauty.
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A quick stop for some film, a visit to the local Post Office and the bank to replenish our dwindling cash supply, then we were off again this time heading north now along route B4343; the four digits of the road number mean the fourth turning off of A 434, which is the 34 th turning off A 4 whilst the B tells one that they are on a secondary road,which is narrow and passing could be difficult. Why have we north Americans not been able to learn how to number our roadways in such a logical manner.
The land being much gentler allowing us to run at a good speed on a full two lane road, north to Pontrhydgroes Here under Edgar's urging not to be too far from our boat pick up point in 48 hours time, I turned east along a much more accessable path back through the northern reaches of the Mynydd (mountains) Rangor.
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Still beautiful but so different from the territory we had just departed, here we were never isolated, even tour busses flourished, although driving with great care in the valley of Afron (river) Elan.
Not less beautiful just more populated. It was becoming late in the afternoon as we made our way along the Llyn's (lakes) of Craig Goach, Pen-y-Garreg, and Garreg-Dhu and damns which form the water resource eastern Wales.
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Still beautiful but so different from the territory we had just departed, here we were never isolated, even tour busses flourished, although driving with great care in the valley of Afron (river) Elan.
Finally after several tries we located the perfect accommodation "The New Priory Hotel" . the sun was setting, casting deep golden shadows as we unloaded our bags.
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The New Priory Inn, located in the land of the " Black and White " villages, was a real find, here we had a large en-suite room furnished with antiques including a very comfortable four poster bed complete with canopy.
Supper was great and the price most reasonable. The area in which the New Priory is located is so named because of the surrounding villages of Eardis, Weobley, Dilwyn, Erdisland, Pembridge, and Canyon Pyon each of which sport significant collections of half-timbered and stucco buildings, reminiscent of Tudor architecture, they are also the heart of cider country.
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Morning found us well within easy reach our objective of Wallingford where we were to pick up the boat. We tarried over breakfast, Edgar had a long conversation with the owner as I wandered the grounds in the company of a friendly local puss who seemed more than willing to show me his favorite circuit of the grounds.
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