Walking behind Fan y Big

The second of my Wales walks was from a campsite a mile east of Brecon. A couple of days ago I deserted the comfort of our motorhome for an assault from the north on the ridge of the Brecon Beacons that I last trod with my son at least 20 years ago. On that occasion we left home early one morning, belted along the M4 and then up to the southern edge of the Beacons where we parked and set off up a steep slope to a ridge that led to the escarpment. I remember that slope on!y too well - it was very steep and the teenager strode up it while I struggled. Then round the edge until we could easily get back to the car the M4 and home. It was a glorious day.

This time I covered over 16 miles. The climb wasn't very different though I could stop to admire the view without the shame of having someone waiting for me further up the slope. But I wasn't too unhappy with my speed up the hill and rather pleased that my leg muscles didn't complain nearly as much as they would have done a couple of months ago. I even caught up with and overtook some other walkers - they had started as a group of five from the same village at the foot of the ridge but had resolved into a slow trio and a breakaway pair and I was secretly chuffed that they all looked younger than me. That doesn't often happen these days.

The day was splendid, the views were as good as I remember them from the early 1990's and the walk lifted my spirits. I have been getting increasingly anxious about this 2016 end-to-end walk, seriously wondering whether it wasn't a mistake to try to repeat the experience of 4 years ago. Which, in a way, is silly - I learned a lot in 2012 and there's no reason why the walk shouldn't work just as well this time. The Brecon Beacons has calmed some of the anxieties but not all, though I know that there's no turning back now.

I gained the escarpment just in time for my usual cheese and pickle sandwich lunch, supplemented this time by a Bounty Bar, then set off in quite high spirits round the edge towards, but not up to, Pen y Fan. I intended to walk over Fan y Big (my apologies to Welsh speakers - I do not have the skill or equipment to put a circumflex over the 'i') but took a wrong path, went round the back and came down off the hill along an unintended path which was quick but a bit soulless. It was also being used by mountain bikers who, once on a descent, are fairly unstoppable, so it's best to get out of the way and remind oneself just how inferior biking is to walking.

And so, back to the campsite and a welcome shower and meal. The day after we walked into Brecon and behaved as tourists including a return visit to the very homely and welcoming cathedral. I also found a branch of Cotswold and bought a new pair of walking trousers and some new socks. Both items were much needed and the trousers were on special offer and represent an investment of about 25p per leg per day of the main walk; I shall enjoy being both elegantly and frugally clad.

Then back to Cornish reality. The letters and emails have stacked up (while away from home I prefer not to stay in touch unless I really have to) and I know that I have a small mountain of tasks to do before I start the walk in mid-June.