An early start this morning, we had to be ready to buy a parking ticket at eight, which we did. But no one came to check! It's O.K. though, a few pounds to enable us to live away from the sofa, television and trappings of everyday life. In Marge we feel alive.
Right Marge, we're turning back on ourselves. We've decided we can't leave this area without visiting the Elan Valley and its string of reservoirs. The three artificial lakes were created between 1892 and 1903 to supply water to Birmingham seventy-three miles away. The drive over the remote moorlands, sheep in the road at every turn and beautiful views across the hills was pleasant, until we met a coach! Reverse Marge.
At the first reservoir we were shocked at just how low the water level was. Field mushrooms grew alongside the road, and of course John couldn't resist picking some.
Our lunch
stop, beside the water, adjacent to dense woodland proved popular, and many
other vehicles stopped to take photographs of the stone bridge and water.
Moving on, the road narrowed. Logging lorry Marge. When we visited Scotland we
came across these lorries all the time. The drivers nearly always very patient.
Not in Wales. He's not going to back up is he? No Marge, let's us then.
Arrogant, what's the word?
We were glad we'd made the decision to visit the Elan Valley, but we needed to move east so our next stop was Hay-on-Wye where we are staying in yet another car park that allows overnight one in seven nights. Marge is one of eight vans so far. Our neighbours are German and French.
Tired from walking earlier today we still managed a walk into town, around the castle and past the many book shops. Fish and chips tempted us, and one. We sat in the picnic area down by the river Wye to eat them. How's you waistline? Expanding Marge.
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