Day 120 - The abandoned farm - Esgair Fraith
Trust the map in your mind. Trust it when it tells you to turn right even when the OS map said to turn left. Trust the map in your mind when it says that somewhere on the left you will find a parking place, and that after that it will only be a short walk to your destination. Trust the map in your mind... unless of course you didn't trust yourself on the first decision, because then the parking place on the left will never come and as a consequence there will be other more important things to worry about, like where the hell you are?
It had been almost four years since Mike Pearson took a small group of us up to Esgair Fraith, the location for Tri Bywyd by Brith Gof. ' Surely the trees can't have grown that much?' I asked myself out loud, my confusion about its location steadily testing the patience of my companions. Every turn took us to a dead end or led to a steep bank of trees that disappeared several hundred metres up beyond reach. When we eventually found Esgair Fraith,' the speckled ridge', Tina, Sam and I had driven around it in circles for nearly six hours. During that time we found two chapels, a front wheel axel, a tall thin man having lunch in the shade and a team of tourists exploring in an old beaten up ford mondeo.
Having found our destination we soon realised that all was not quite right. The catch, as it turns out, is that Esgair Fraith and Esgair Fraith are two very different places. Both are derelict farm buildings, both are not far past Tregaron heading south, south east. But the one Mike Pearson took us to didn't involve a two hundred metre climb up an uncomfortably steep hill side, through thick undergrowth and into woodland that may not have been entered by man for more than fifty years. But that is where Sam and I found the derelict farm on the top of the speckled ridge.
Horse flies and a horde of other hungry insects made standings impossible. Sam filmed as I explored the dwelling. I don't think I have ever felt 'green' to be such a potent and overwhelming colour, I wanted to lay down on the soft carpet of moss and rest following the climb but a dozen creatures with many dozens of legs would probably have made their home on me had I done so. Sam's warning about the leeches stuck in my mind.I probably would have believed him if he had said there were sharks.
Tina waited patiently for us as the bottom of the cliff. She reported hearing snatches of our conversation as we descended. Something about the bracken giving you cancer, or so my mum said...
It had been almost four years since Mike Pearson took a small group of us up to Esgair Fraith, the location for Tri Bywyd by Brith Gof. ' Surely the trees can't have grown that much?' I asked myself out loud, my confusion about its location steadily testing the patience of my companions. Every turn took us to a dead end or led to a steep bank of trees that disappeared several hundred metres up beyond reach. When we eventually found Esgair Fraith,' the speckled ridge', Tina, Sam and I had driven around it in circles for nearly six hours. During that time we found two chapels, a front wheel axel, a tall thin man having lunch in the shade and a team of tourists exploring in an old beaten up ford mondeo.
Having found our destination we soon realised that all was not quite right. The catch, as it turns out, is that Esgair Fraith and Esgair Fraith are two very different places. Both are derelict farm buildings, both are not far past Tregaron heading south, south east. But the one Mike Pearson took us to didn't involve a two hundred metre climb up an uncomfortably steep hill side, through thick undergrowth and into woodland that may not have been entered by man for more than fifty years. But that is where Sam and I found the derelict farm on the top of the speckled ridge.
Horse flies and a horde of other hungry insects made standings impossible. Sam filmed as I explored the dwelling. I don't think I have ever felt 'green' to be such a potent and overwhelming colour, I wanted to lay down on the soft carpet of moss and rest following the climb but a dozen creatures with many dozens of legs would probably have made their home on me had I done so. Sam's warning about the leeches stuck in my mind.I probably would have believed him if he had said there were sharks.
Tina waited patiently for us as the bottom of the cliff. She reported hearing snatches of our conversation as we descended. Something about the bracken giving you cancer, or so my mum said...
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