‘Tha Last Welsh Wolves Weekend’ – Wylfre Saturday

The Valley

Or Nine Collies, One Siberian Forest Cat and a Whole Sea of Froglets…

We wake late after a marvellously deep sleep.

Darrell peers out of the ‘nose window’, ideal for satisfying his innate curtain twitching predilections.

Millie doesn’t stir but lies on her back, eyes tightly shut. Welsh TV shows a couple, their toddler son and nine collies walking by plus two immensely fat campers packing up the most gear we have ever seen, an operation that requires very frequent very breathless breaks.

We eat breakfast outside and then Millie and I meets a white Siberian Forest Cat with a pair of bright blue eyes. Apparently they are very dog like and will happily walk on the lead and go into water.

We head uphill. Bracken stretches in all directions, a mini forest cut by sheep tracks. Today the Beacons have their heads in heavy cloud and although it is warm the sky is dark. We pass a quarry and climb to the trig point on Wylfre. With hills and fields spread at our feet and larks loud above us we sit on springy turf and eat lunch.

We come back through the Fforest Wood which we end up entering illegally over a barbed wire fence as we can’t get to the footpath any other way. We take a dusty path alive with butterflies back into the camp.

We walk round the lake trying hard not to stand on the hundreds, possibly thousands of tiny frogs that are swarming through the grass.

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