Day 7 - Machynlleth to Llanbrynmair

I woke early again.  I am yet to get a full eight hours since this walk began.  I descended for breakfast at eight (the earliest they served it).  My host suggested that I should walk further than I planned to today.  I said I’d stick to the plan but ten minutes after I’d returned to my room he brought me a phone so I could speak to Sue my host for this evening.  She too thought I should walk further since I would probably reach Cemmaes Road (it’s a village not a road) by midday or one.  She said that I could go on to Llanbrynmair or call her in the afternoon whenever I felt I’d had enough and she would collect me.  I agreed.  When I set off my legs were pretty stiff but I soon got into my stride.  I walked out of Machynlleth like Bill Bixby with a rucksack full of tattered clothing.  It was a lovely day and, unlike yesterday, I stuck to the trail properly today.  It was quite firm underfoot which was surprising after yesterday’s weather.  I was also pleased that I was able to get a radio signal until 10.30.  It was a nice change.  So far this week every word I’ve heard whilst walking has been sung and it’s been like being trapped in an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.  I was on track to arrive in Cemmaes Road around 12.30 but lost the trail and like a man in search of God I wandered around looking for a sign.  I descended a hill towards Cemmaes too early and had to walk along on the road. 

So, I arrived in the village at one fifteen and shortly after doing so a woman in her sixties stopped her car, got out and asked me “Are you staying with me tonight?”.  It could have been an ill judged chat up line so I declared myself to be an idiot and said “I don’t know, am I?”.  “Did we speak on the phone this morning?”.  “Yes”.  She seemed a little stiff and humourless.  And that wasn’t just because of the huge amount of hairspray on her head.  She said she was going into Machynlleth (she pronounced it Mahuntliff) to shop and then would be available to collect me from Llanbrynmair (6 ¾ miles away) later in the day.  I agreed to this plan. 



Unfortunately, by about two o’clock I was really wishing I’d stopped for the day.  I trudged on being more than slightly frustrated that the trail was more poorly signposted on this section than it had been in others.  I then realised that I’d lost a glove and cheekily sent a text to Sue asking if she would buy me a pair of gloves if she was still in Machynlleth.  It was probably because I had to consult the guide book so often and was taking the gloves off to turn the page that I lost the second one later.  Around 3pm I happened upon a mother and her teenage daughter but had met their dog about two minutes before I saw who it belonged to.  Mum said “Did my dog jump all over you?  I’m so sorry”.  I said “It’s been that many hours since I saw anyone I was about to jump all over him”. 

As it got darker I tried to move faster but only arrived in Llanbrynmair at five.  I called Sue as I approached the village.  She collected me and drove me to her farm house/manor house and seemed intent on getting my full life history during the journey.


           “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a forensic psychologist”

“That must be fascinating”.

“No, I have to be honest, it isn’t”.  I’m trying a new policy during this walk.

Inside the doorway of her home she gave me The Daily Mail to stand on which seemed to be the ideal use for it.  She then produced the gloves she had bought for me.  ‘One size fits all’ they said.  This worried me slightly since I can’t imagine this principle working with trousers or shoes.  Although slightly tight they fitted well.  I’m not planning to play the piano over the next few days so won’t need full blood circulation in my fingers.  I then met her husband Richard.  It was soon apparent that he is a bit deaf.  I was invited to join them for tea and cake by the fire in their sitting room.  I learned that Sue is a former nurse while Richard works as a magistrate and in organising hunting and fishing trips.  He was a farmer but they sold their land to bail out their son whose ex-wife left him with huge debts.  Would they have told me all of this if I’d said I was a postman when they asked what my profession was?  They are soon swapping properties with their son and family who live in a cottage in the grounds and will then stop Bed and Breakfasting.  Their daughter is single, has had a number of weird boyfriends and is a fashion designer and lives in London.  She seemed to have more baggage than Louis Vuitton.  On that subject, they mentioned that she’d bought a handbag for £3000 and Richard said he’d once spent £70 on a pair of shoes.  He said that was in 1982 and then raised his legs to show them to me.  No doubt that joke had been told many times before.

They said that earlier in the year an eighty nine year old man had stayed with them who was also doing the walk and at the same pace as me.  There’s no excuse.  I have to finish this thing.  I left them to their evening at 18.30.  I hope the musty smell I was radiating didn’t distract anyone from enjoying our time together.  As I left them I asked if my boots and their copy of The Daily Mail could sit by the fire.  Richard asked what make they were.  I had no idea.  They were the pair I opted for after trying on most of what the shop stocked.  Despite the number of times I’d pulled them on and off I still didn’t know what make they were.  His were a very expensive, famous brand.  He got them and encouraged me to touch them and see how soft the leather was.  It’s hard to know how to respond when a man you met less than two hours earlier extends that sort of invitation.  I hobbled back to my huge room, bathed in my huge bathroom and then rested in my huge bed.