29th OCT.

Woke a few times in the night with strong winds and rain slapping the tent. I eventually woke at 6.45 gmt and due to lack of meths had cereal. It was a nice respite from waiting for water to boil.
We got packed up with the odd view below revealing chequered fields , clouds scudded from west to east.
We were to walking at 7.45gmt. It was fairly good walking and we were well wrapped with snugpaks , gloves , and hill hats. The path was easier than farm land,  slabs laid to prevent erosion .
We made good headway on fairly flat top. The only indicator of where we were was trig points on the ridge.
Views were alot better,  but then again the views yesterday were non existant so even with one eye closed it would be better.
We were walking along the Welsh/English border so in theory could of had one foot in each. To the left Wales looked formidable, steep sided hills clad in cloud tumbled away into the distance,  where to the right England, gentler more inviting green with subtle hills.
We passed the three trigs in gradual descending heights. The odd grouse was put up , grouse shooting butts reminding me why they were there-sport!
We skirted Hatterrall Hill descending from heath to dreaded farm field, but luckily mostly via track and lane.We reached Pandy on the A465 and sat beside it eating bread and hard nuttella wondering where a shop may be.
Whilst sat there fine threads of spider web drifted around us,  at first I thought I had a hair across my face. Looking at J's hair he had five money spiders on the tips of his stand up blond dyed hair.
We struck out along the road to
the village of Llanvihangel with its ' oldest pub in Wales',  it must of had a few facelifts as it looked old but not that old.
Once we had had a drink we walked on in drizzle from lane to mud fields which were badly signposted before the village of Llangattock.We wondered up and down a fence line trying to find the correct exit,  not easy when the fence line is muddy up and slip sliding down. We then ignored the signpost and found our stile on the higher fence line.
When we got into the village we passed via a white 12/13 century church with faded paintings of St George slaying a dragon. I will have to google it as there appeared to be an interesting history.

Walking on over field and lane via the White Castle, another 12 century land mark before descending into Llantilio Crossenny in the rain. We started looking for a stop off but empty farms and Bulmars cider orchards, with the smell of apples in the damp air,  of course as the owners or directors were not available we had to walk on. The path took us through the orchard with heavy machinary spoiling the vision of hand cropped cider. The apples were incredibly small and hundreds of windfalls.
We walked on in dimming light to The Grange where luckily we were put next to a horse paddock. The young mother had gone out of her way to help with toddler tucked under arm.
We had stilton and brocolli soup which was warming and the last of our meths,  J over salted his so he had to do without.
I nestled down listening to the radio feeling damp and dirty. We could do with a shower.
I woke having left the radio on- Hurricane devastating the USA , I felt lucky.