I finished work on Wednesday, got home and cooked pasta, then drove to Wales to spend the night in my truck at the foot of the Brecon Beacons. I went to sleep under a bright moon with only the sounds of a flowing stream and an owl, I woke to a still-clear sky and minus five on the temperature gauge. Getting dressed in a sleeping bag is possible. Soundtrack: Michael Nyman playing piano.
That's Corn Du, looking from the West atop Craig Gwaun Taf. It's the first of the six main peaks, all joined by saddled ridgeways so you never drop below six hundred metres. I had a black pudding scotch egg coming down Craig y Fan and then stopped for a tin of rice pudding at Fan y Big, both were great. Billy Holiday followed by Bill Whitmore on my headphones.
The trade off for this trip was inevitable - the M42 was horrible both ways and on the way home I spent ninety minutes diverting through Ross on Wye after someone crashed on the A40. People.
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