Pistyll Rhaeadr is counted as one of the Seven Wonders of Wales and is a Site of Special Scientific Interest. The 19th-century author George Borrow, in his book Wild Wales, wrote of the waterfall, "What shall I liken it to? I scarcely know, unless it is to an immense skein of silk agitated and disturbed by tempestuous blasts, or to the long tail of a grey courser at furious speed. I never saw water falling so gracefully, so much like thin, beautiful threads as here."

 

Wow. What can I say? I'll have some of that please, thought I. With the usual essentials rammed into our backpack, we located our faithful walking boots, filled up a flask and, as if on a whim, headed off to enjoy the little sunshine that we were blessed with that day. In my mind's eye, I could see it, hear it and feel it. Something so wonderful would undoubtedly render me breathless. The rushing sound, the coolness in the air, the freezing water gently splashing against my skin. We were travelling to Heaven and I, for one, simply couldn't wait.

 

Upon reflection, although we personally had a disappointing visit, it was only OUR experience of the day. For us, well, for me should I say, there were far too many people there, in order to fully enjoy the experience in the way that it should be enjoyed and appreciated. Granted, it was the 30th of August. We did not get off to the best of starts anyway, as the sat nav took us on an absolutely horrendous trip to nowhere, it being more than useless. It felt like we were in a horror film: 'The Day of the Triffids on a Road Called The Moon', starring two clueless hippies. After what seemed like an age we were met with a dead end, having to reverse backwards and experience it all over again. Our poor car. My poor nerves. One of the dogs wailed on repeat, exacerbating the stress that we felt.

 

Arriving at the location, we were too financially focused to pay the car park fee of £5, especially when the gate shuts at 5pm. Thus, we parked up in a nearby lay-by, full of crevices and somewhat muddy. Paying due care to watch our footing, we harnessed up the dogs and were on our way. A number of bins nearby were overflowing with days worth of rubbish, the smell somewhat offensive.

 

The waterfall itself was wonderful but for us personally, today was one of those days when it was just too overcrowded. Others too, sought to enjoy the sunshine and savour such a rare experience, and why not?

Carefully leading the dogs away to somewhere safer and less populated, I sought freedom from the anxiety that was beginning to overwhelm me. Upon locating a quieter spot, we sat down on a large rock to enjoy coffee and biscuits. Whereupon, the pooches were not overly happy to be attacked by an abundance of flies. Additionally, it wasn't long before two families took over the rocks next to ours. Sighing, we finished up, setting off to find the toilets for Mr WH, myself choosing to wait. If the bins were anything to go by, I would pass, thank you very much. At '50p a pee' he declined the offer and we headed back towards the car. With a brief toilet stop in the quiet village down below, we were pleased to find them clean. Mr WH somewhat relieved, we journeyed home, pausing to sample a little refreshment in an alehouse, where the publican fussed over the dogs before they retired for an afternoon nap under the table.

 

Shall we return? No. I don't believe that we will.