England,  Photography,  Travel Blog,  Walking

Nostalgia Trip #3: From Warwick To Rhayader

June 10, 2021 /

We have a time commitment to meet today so it’s necessary to take the earliest breakfast we can at the rather excellent Old Fourpenny Shop and head out of town promptly, although first there’s the strange business of fetching the car from its overnight berth. Strange because the arrangements are to park in front of the grandstand within Warwick Racecourse, and as I unlock the large iron gates to let myself in, two policemen sit in their squad car and watch my every move. 

“Why is that old git in a “Rebel Rebel” T shirt letting himself into the Racecourse?”, I imagine them asking.

Heavy rain on the M5 soon gives way to brighter weather as we traverse the rolling green countryside of Herefordshire, passing through the picturesque towns of Bromyard, Leominster and, prettiest of all, Pembridge, before leaving England and crossing the border into Wales.

Around 10 miles short of our next destination of Rhayader, we pull over amid heathland roamed by countless sheep once we are close to a particular tree. Michaela takes up the story…..

For many childhood years my holidays were here in Wales so this part of our nostalgia trip is for me to share my special memories with Phil. I have wonderful memories of these places and spent many happy times here, sometimes just me and my Nan (more about my Nan and our escapades later). The tree we’ve stopped at is indeed a special tree. This heathland on the outskirts of the tiny village of Penybont was a natural place for a break and for a picnic on our journeys to Wales all those years ago. We would sit beneath this solitary tree, sharing our food with any inquisitive sheep brave enough to come close; every year we stopped here my Nan would measure me against the tree, marking my height with a penknife in the bark. Over the years of our wonderful visits, the notches in “my tree” would inch higher, visible year on year, because this was MY tree.

And now we near the village, will my tree still be there?  After all, it’s 25 years since I was last here. Has the tree been cut down? Is it now surrounded by other trees? Is it fenced off?  Will I even find it?

Our car clatters over the cattle grid in the road, excitement builds, open land looks familiar, sheep are grazing…. I shout out “there it is, there’s my tree!” Phil screeches to a halt.  And there, all these years later, there is my tree, the very tree my Nan used to measure me against. The marks etched into the tree have of course long since gone, it is 50 years since those first marks were made but the memories are still there. A farmer chugs past in his tractor and stares, probably wondering what we are doing, I don’t care, I am re-united with MY tree.

  • Then…….
  • ……. now

It’s emotional yet it’s amusing. My tree, still here, still thriving; my etched marks vanished, but the memories still absolutely visible. It’s hard not to cry, yet I know I’m smiling. I want to hug this tree, of all the trees in the world…..but we move on, Rhayader is next….

It’s funny how some towns are instantly appealing. Rhayader is one such, nestled in the valley of the River Wye and surrounded on all sides by the looming Cambrian Hills. Wikipedia advises that Rhayader has the highest number of pubs per capita of any place in the UK, and we quickly count nine on our walks around its small centre.

Before settling into our new surroundings, we take a trip to Gigrin Farm on the edge of town to witness the amazing phenomenon of the feeding of the red kites. Around thirty years ago, red kites were almost extinct in the UK with just small numbers surviving in mid Wales. A Mr Powell, the farmer at Gigrin, came to the notice of the RSPB through his hobby of feeding the local kites on the carcasses of the rabbits which he had shot on the farm.

The RSPB encouraged this, with amazing results – red kites now thrive in this and many areas of the UK, and the daily feeding spectacle at Gigrin has become a major attraction, with up to 600 kites coming to feed each afternoon. There is no captivity here, these are perfectly wild birds who travel up to 40 miles each afternoon, yet feed naturally in their own environment the rest of the time. It’s a fabulous spectacle seeing so many of these majestic and colourful birds of prey swoop and dive in to collect their food.

Red Kite Feeding at Gigrin Farm

Sitting inside the wooden hides with so many kites circling and calling is a really terrific experience; whilst at Gigrin we also follow a nature trail to climb the hills above the farm, where our reward is magnificent views of the small town dwarfed by its natural surroundings and the mountains to the west.

We enjoy two of Rhayader’s pubs, The Lamb & Flag and The Crown, and vow to return here for a longer stay to enjoy more of the hiking and pubbing that Rhayader has to offer. It feels like a great base for a walking holiday.

There is an extra glow about Michaela tonight. Yes there was Gigrin and the red kites, but the visit to her “my tree” has awakened some wonderful memories, and tomorrow we head to the very places she spent so many wonderful childhood times. She has the joy of childhood holidays in her sparkling eyes…

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