...in South Wales

Adventures of the Anonymous in South Wales

Armed with directions to Forest Lodge, somewhere in the middle of the Brecon Beacons, I set off on Friday evening for the long drive to Wales. Apart from the M4 making all the traffic go into one lane when there were in fact two lanes available, the journey was uneventful and whiled away quite nicely listening to a play on the radio.

 You have to pay to get into Wales – a whole £4.60. And once across the River Severn signposting suddenly becomes a lot more confusing as it is written in both languages and takes those few seconds longer to find something you recognise as words.

Eventually I came off the motorway and headed up into the Brecons. Being night time I had not idea of the country side I was driving through, but based on the bendy road and limited amount of traffic I had a suspicion I was amongst hills.

In accordance with the directions, I turned off into decidedly country lanes, and then off again onto a one car wide track. The accommodation was apparently somewhere here. There were a couple of buildings it could have been and I took the chance of going to the one with Forest Lodge signposted at the bottom of the drive. It was a sturdily built farmhouse. And no one was there yet. I lay down in my car and tried to get some sleep but the gently nagging anxiety that I might be in the wrong place ensured I got none.

After about 10 minutes the trusty BMF minibus swung into view and we all shuffled into the farmhouse. The building was fantastic: two large sitting rooms, a piano, a huge kitchen with an aga, large dining room as well as multiple bedrooms and bathrooms.

It seemed that most people knew at least one other person on the trip, and those who knew no one had at least had 4 hours in a minibus with them. For a few minutes I felt very left out.

 Prince Eric allocated us to bedrooms. I was directed to an en-suite with 3 three other girls – Attina, Carlotta and Ursula. We spent a few minutes settling in before retiring downstairs for a briefing – followed by tomato soup and tea for those who fancied it.

Chef Louis conducted the briefing – true officer material. Blonde haired, with an accent so posh it had to be put on and a laugh which involved crinkling up his nose. He had recently come back from Iraq. After the briefing (which consisted of being told we had to all help with cooking and cleaning and were expected to have a go at all events offered over the weekend) he regaled us with tales of surfing by night. Someone asked if he could see to surf at night. ‘Well, no’ he replied, explaining that you knew a wave was coming purely by listening. Then there was the fun of trying to find his friends again afterwards, bobbing about in the sea, calling for people and feeling completely alone as well as rather stupid. So next time, they’re going to wear reflective strips over their wetsuits so they can see each other in the dark.

Aware of the 7.30am alarm call in the morning and the effects of the long drive, I retired to bed and slept remarkably well. Everyone in our room woke before we needed to. Carlotta – who is not and never has been a BMF member – got herself quickly up and downstairs before she was ‘court martialled’ as she phrased it.

 Some of the girls had kindly volunteered themselves the previous evening to cook breakfast. As there were 17 of us in the group it did mean that most of us were standing around as it clearly did not take all of us to prepare the food. Initially however, we all tried to appear to be doing something but really just got in the way. So we made up our packed lunches instead. The steam and smoke from breakfast set off the smoke alarm – which roused those who were not yet up.

A sumptuous breakfast of grilled tomatoes, sausages, eggs, bacon, beans and toast was presented and rapidly devoured.

At 8.30 Skuttle arrived to brief us on the days activities – gorge walking, rock climbing and abseiling. He ran the company that would be in charge of us for these events. It had been clear from the previous evening that many people in the group did not fully appreciate what gorge walking entailed. I explained to those in my room my understanding of it based on the gorge walk I had done in June. The joining instructions had provided very limited information and not really emphasised the very great need for spare clothes, preferably spare boots and a swim suit as a handy extra. For those (by and large everyone except me) who did not have spare boots wellies were available – provided you could find some that fitted. The idea of trying to swim with wellies and that feeling of all the cold water suddenly rushing into the boots (and staying there) the second it reached the top did not appeal. I opted to wear my spare boots. We were to wear our own trousers and tops over which we had rather fetching blue trousers and a red top, made from touch material which was more to do with protecting our clothes and giving a little more potential warmth than providing any sort of waterproofing.

My room volunteered ourselves to be in the first group of gorge walkers, not to get it out of the way so much as to have time to properly warm up afterwards with a bit of rock climbing.

It was starting to drizzle as we set off for Ddinas. On arrival the gorge walkers donned the delightful trousers (which had elasticated braces attached adding a certain farmer giles feeling) and the top. Flounder – our gorge walking instructor advised us to wear a fleece under the top as we would be too cold just in T shirts. I decided to ignore this advise, not fully understanding how a fleece sodden with freezing water, weighing me down, was going to make me feel warm. We put on close fitting buoyancy aids and helmets (I went for a red one as it matched the ensemble) and after a final check that bums did not look big in this, off we went. We were already a little cold and could see our breath in the cool air. Flounder reassuringly advised us that the gorge water would be properly chilly.

The walk up the gorge was about 3 miles and Flounder’s intention, partly based on the weather, was to keep us as dry as possible for as long as possible. He also told us that team work was vital to get us through the obstacles as many of them would require assistance. We started by crossing over the river, using the slippery boulders that were nearer the surface, and also helping to pull each other across. Aquata was slightly hesitant, so Alana reached across to help pull her over, and promptly fell in. She told us, in case we hadn’t already realised, that the water was freezing, and bent her leg so that her foot was near her bum in order to let some of the water drain out of her wellies.

 We then climbed around the rocky side of the gorge, which involved holding on for dear life and trying to find places to put your feet that weren’t too slippery while you moved your hands along a bit. It required a reasonable amount of confidence to do, and the ability to rely on an upper body strength that you perhaps hadn’t realised you had until now.

 Re-crossing the river, we clambered over slippery boulders on the other side and came to a huge rock with a hole in the side, and a hole in the bottom which went down into the water. I assumed we were going through the hole in the bottom. Instead, we needed to climb down into the rock, avoid falling down the large hole in the bottom, and eek our way – head first – out of the hole in the side. This led to a small ledge, about 2 foot high and probably not much wider. Flounder told us to crawl along it, and when we got to the end, try to stand up and climb up onto the top. All the while we were very aware of the reasonably deep, very cold river a couple of feet below us. It was remarkably good fun. The climb up was easier than it first appeared, but Flounder was sitting at the top with a rope for anyone who wanted a little extra assistance.

Attina, whose helmet refused to sit straight on her head, and was constantly at an angle, came up looking dishevelled. ‘How did you find that?’ I asked her. ‘Oh, I didn’t like that at all’, she beamed. It surprised me, as she had negotiated the obstacle with no apparent difficulty at all.

Now warmed up, we continued our walk up stream, criss crossing the water frequently. By now my boots had let in some water, which although initially very cold had now warmed up nicely. Once upon a time the river had been crossed by a number of bridges. These had long since gone but the brick supports on either side of the river remained. Our next climbing activity was one of these, moving along a vertical wall, as far as possible avoiding stepping off into the water.

 At first glance it looked extremely difficult. Part of the problem was that we had to first of all move along the wall out into the water and then negotiate the 90º corner to move along. However, the gaps between the rows of bricks actually made this activity reasonably easy to complete – although the very tiny ledge to stand on did start to disappear half way along.

Another climbing obstacle we needed to get passed was a huge boulder that stuck out over the water. Flounder very kindly stood in the water to lend assistance. The idea was to stand on one side of the boulder, reach around on the top of it for some suitable hand hold, then swing your right leg (guided by Flounder) around to the other side of the boulder. This was a move you had to commit to – you could only get your leg far enough around by completely accepting that there was no option at all of going back. So, facing the boulder, hanging on to what seemed now terribly inadequate hand holds, with little more than the tips of toes making contact with the rock on either side, Flounder said ‘now just pull yourself around’ while he had his hand on your back – just in case. It was a challenging obstacle, but with a good heave, it could be done. Some people found it a bit too daunting and went over the top of the boulder instead. Attina didn’t like it at all.

 We continued for several minutes walking up stream, along the edge or on make shift stepping stones. I had by now accepted that I was going to be wet up to my shin. Others, however, were still trying to stay completely dry, avoiding the inevitable.

 As we waited for these people to catch up Flounder asked if we wanted to do a difficult challenge. ‘Yes’ I said, ‘but please don’t tell everyone that there was a choice – just in case’.

We crossed over the gorge. The water was now becoming deeper, and I was surprised that anyone was still trying to keep their feet dry. This part of the gorge was quite wide and changed level, with small rapids tumbling over the rocks so that the river could shift down a couple of feet. We stood below one of these points, water rushing over the steep rocks ahead. Between us and the rocks was a deep pool. Flounder told us that we needed to get over to the rocks as a team, without getting any wetter than we were.

Conveniently there was a tree which reached across the pool. It’s smooth trunk sloping upwards, gently and then slightly more steeply before levelling out just at the point we would need to get off. Ariel and I leapt forward. She stood on it, with every intention of trying to walk up it. I straddled it and instinctively put my feet up behind me. Flounder indicated this was the correct method. Ariel followed suit – water gushed from her wellies as she lifted her legs behind her. Alana – who was already wet, kindly stood in the water below the tree to help push us up. I pushed Ariel from behind as well.

 Sitting upright, I pushed down with my hands and shifted myself along. It was impossible to add much impetus to the move with my feet – which were soaking wet and just slipping on the tree bark. Initially we made good progress. Then the tree steepened before finally flattening out. By now my arms were tired and I was out of Alana’s reach for assistance from behind. I kept trying to bounce up, millimetre by millimetre but felt that I was getting nowhere. Ariel had reached the top and come down onto the rocks. I was determined to make it. I had a couple of wobbly moments when I thought that I might fall off completely. The suddenly the flatter part of the trunk was in sight and at the point where it then shot off vertically I was able to reach round and pull myself up the final part.

Flounder was standing on the rocks below me, and told me that I needed to swing round so that my back was facing the water, while holding on with my arms and legs. My arms were exhausted so I wasn’t completely convinced I would stay attached, and Flounder reassuringly told me that if I fell he couldn’t catch me as he wasn’t near enough.

 I duly swung round. ‘Now let your legs come off’, instructed Flounder, ‘and just hold on with your arms’. Damn right I held on, as Flounder guided my legs to the rocks. Finally I let go and climbed up the rocks to the applause of the group. Ursula and Alana tried the climb but no one else managed it. The rest of the group opted to find an alternative way up to us.

The sides of the gorge were now becoming both steep and high. We were now seeing things that could only be seen if you were here, in the water. Flounder stopped by one of these steep rock faces and told us to take off our buoyancy aids, as they would get in the way for the next bit.

 In the rock was a small, dark hole. Flounder told us to go into it and climb along to the top. It was pitch black inside. Actually getting in at all was not without difficulty. The rock was wet, smooth and slippery, as well as being steep. Aquata had trouble getting in, so I heaved her up. By the time we were both inside the hole everyone else had moved on. I could see nothing, and felt around assuming there must only be one way on and that I would be able to feel where it was. As my eye adjusted I saw the rest of the group above me. The hole went up. Almost straight up. Whilst I can climb with reasonable confidence and ability, climbing in the dark, when you can’t look for places to put your hands and feet and have to just feel around blindly for something is a completely different matter. It was fantastic fun and an extra challenge to the existing challenge of climbing up wet, smooth limestone (which is fearsomely slippery). Aquata struggled to get up the hole, and I pulled her up as best I could until we were both at the top, giggling. The top opened out into a cave up in the rock face. Next to the hole we had climbed up was a much narrower hole (hence the removal of buoyancy aids) which went back down to where we had started. Flounder told us that we needed to go down this one head first. Attina – who was infront of me – told him in no uncertain terms that she was going down feet first.

 I lay on my front in the hole. It was wet and steep. I told Flounder that there was a possibility that when I let go, I would just slither straight down (it wasn’t smooth and in places, rock jutted out into the hole). He told me that I would be surprised at how slowly I would move. I wasn’t surprised – I slithered quite fast, and emerged back into daylight in the style of a worm. It was excellent fun. Attina, again grinning, hadn’t liked it at all. I admired her spirit. She was giving all these things a go, without the slightest fuss and bother, while not actually enjoying them.

No sooner had we set off again when the next obstacle reared into view. Ahead was a narrow pass between two massive blocks of rock. Inside this pass were two vast boulders. Quite simply we had to get in, get over the boulders, and then climb out the other side (which involved climbing up). To add a little interest, the get to the first boulder we needed to go through a pool that was just deep enough to let water into the wellies of those who had, until now, managed to keep their feet dry. Ursula was infront of me, and we stood in the cold water waiting for the group to move on. Attina and Aquata waited on the dry ground behind. It seemed that these boulders were actually quite difficult to negotiate. The trick seemed to be to have you back against the slab of rock and use the pressure of this to move up the slab and onto the first boulder. As I pointed out to anyone who was interested, we really would be stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Ursula helped to pull me up onto the first boulder. In turn, I heaved up Attina. By using the slab behind me, and one or two reasonable hand holds I managed to pull myself up onto the second boulder into a little cave, the only way out being small gap above us. Aquata was struggling to get onto the first boulder – which was the more difficult of the two.

I leaned over the upper boulder to point out places she could put her feet, and offer a helping hand if she wanted it. She didn’t. After several minutes, Flounder came down to help her along. He then asked me to stand out of the way while he got Aquata up the climb at the end. To get out we needed to free climb about 5 feet up the rock slab, which was wet but also had enough lumps and bumps to be able to climb. Once about 5 foot up the gap narrow sufficiently so that you could rest your back against the protruding rock, and with the pressure of your feet on one side and your back on the other it was possible to move around and climb out. ‘Shimmy round’ Flounder helpfully explained. The group were waiting at the top and while I was waiting to climb out I had seen Aquata’s legs dangling while the group grabbed hold of her and pulled her up. They seemed a little disappointed that I hadn’t needed help to get out. Carlotta was particularly aggrieved. I was actually rather enjoying ‘free’ climbing, I other words, without any ropes.

We continued up the gorge a little further into a beautiful area of pools, high rocky sides with bright green ferns draping over them. Flounder said that we now had a choice. We could try to climb around the side we were on, where it was likely someone would slip in, and the sides of the gorge bulged out over the smooth and slippery boulders we would walk on. Or we could try to cross the gorge and climb round the other side which was a very difficult climb. Finally, we could just get in the water. There were no half measures with the getting in option. The pool infront of us was deep, and immediately deep. I was getting in. I had come here to get wet, I had committed to the idea of getting wet and wet is what I now wanted to get. Ariel felt the same and we both hurled ourselves in. It was bitterly cold, and took my breath away to such an extent that I couldn’t actually cry out with the cold. Any attempt at swimming while wearing boots, clothes and a heavy over layer of trousers and top is futile. Ariel had wellies on which can’t have made the task any easier. We soon realised that we couldn’t actually make any forward progress at all. To compound the situation, the water flow down the river was actually quite strong. If we swam with all our might, we could stay still. Relax for one moment and you were off, down river. Grabbing onto the rocks around the edges – unhelpfully worm smooth by the water flow – we managed to pull ourselves onward, over the ledge infront from which water was cascading down. This led into another, larger pool. As I approached the narrow entrance at the top end of this pool, which again had water cascading down it, there was the same problem with the current. Once over this, the river became shallower, around knee height. Now wet, there was no particular need to try and walk around the edges, so I clambered along through the small rapids, at last not minding at all if it slipped and fell in. I had now warmed up a bit. Although warm is perhaps not quite the correct description.

Flounder called us water babies as we splashed around. Alana by now had joined us – although Flounder was still walking around the edges.

The group were having difficulty getting around these two pools without falling in. To avoid hanging around and getting cold, I asked Flounder where we could head to. He pointed to a waterfall – ‘you’re going to climb that’.

Ariel and I set off, through the water, which was dark and had an ever changing depth. I must had banged my legs against rocks (judging by the bruises I had later) but didn’t feel anything because of the cold.

We moved up the rived until we were faced with a large pool, at the end of which was the waterfall. Flounder told us to go round the edge, as the current would be less. He also gave us a rope with instructions for someone to climb up, and then hang the rope down for people who needed extra assistance to complete the climb.

Carlotta took the rope and we proceeded through the pool. Now, those who had stayed dry were going to get wet. As went round the edge, the bottom of the pool disappeared beneath our feet and I pulled myself along using the rocks around the edge. I got to the waterfall, and found a good spot to climb up. Flounder (who was walking along the top of the rocks around the pool) asked who had the rope. Carlotta looked momentarily alarmed before saying that she had completely forgotten she was holding it, and had dropped it. A black climbing rope, in a deep dark pool. Flounder looked from his vantage point but couldn’t see it. He was very good about our losing it. He even jumped in (wet at last) to have a look round.

Now we would just have to try to climb unaided. More amusingly, the afternoon group would have to as well – having no other choice. Ariel came to help me get up. There was a foot hold, about hip height. But with the weight of water in my boots and trousers I needed her to physically lift my leg up onto it. Once there, the climb was very easy. In fact, provided the initial leg up was given, everyone who attempted the climb managed it with ease.

Alana, Carlotta, Ariel and I all got to the top of the waterfall. Attina chose to come up by a drier route. While we were climbing up there seemed to be a bit of kerfuffle in the pool below. It seemed that while going around the part of the pool which was out of our depth, Aquata’s welly had come off so she now had only one boot. Again Flounder jumped in to try and find it. He had suggested walking around in the area it came off to feel it under our feet – until we pointed out that we couldn’t feel the ground at the point where it had come off. Even now, he was not despairing. However, while we waited I started to get cold and was not looking forward to the final activity – jumping in.

 Flounder and Ariel went first. He climbed up onto a ledge and crawled along this to the other side of a reasonably sized waterfall. From where we stood, it looked as though the ledge he was crawling along went behind the waterfall. Once on the other side, he jumped into the pool below. Ariel emerged from the other end of the waterfall crawl looking cold and wet, then she too jumped in. Carlotta, Ursula, Alana and I ventured forth. The ledge under the waterfall was a few inches deep in water cold water. What’s more, after the first few feet we were no longer behind the cascade of water so much as right underneath it. The water beat down onto the top of my helmet. I looked up tentatively but all I could see ahead were white torrents of water. Aware that there was no other option, I carried on, and water continued to bear down onto me. I emerged at the other end realising how Ariel had felt. Now the prospect of jumping into cold water was no longer a problem. I was already cold. My head – which has until now been dry – was drenched. Carlotta jumped first. I let her get out of the way, and leapt in. I must have pushed off a little too vigorously as I felt myself slip, and started to fall sideways, directly down rather than leap out into the pool as originally intended.

In the time it took to fall I was able to glance down to see if there were any rocks below me and feel slightly worried that this might hurt. I surfaced, unscathed and much relieved. The watching group, who had seen me slip (and possibly the look of concern on my face) were equally relieved when I came up, water gushing out of the holes in the side of my helmet. Alana said I had been freestyling. We then all had terrible ice cream head, and felt a bit dizzy and woozy. No one else jumped in.

The activities completed, we climbed up the steep rocky sides and onto the path back to the car park, about a 10 minute walk. Aquata had been leant a welly so Carlotta was in fact walking back with only one boot. Alana had stopped to pour vast quantities of water out of her boots before setting off. But the dampness of her clothes meant they quickly re-filled, and she walked along sounding very much like a hot water bottle.

Back at the car park, the other half of the group were sitting at the top of a rock face, due to abseil down. One of them kindly brought the minibus keys over to us so that we could change. This was no time for modesty – there was nowhere discreet to change and we were getting cold. I hadn’t fully appreciated how wet my trousers were until I took off the over layer, and mine clung cold and damply to my legs. Quickly I stripped down to my swimsuit and wrapped a towel around me. Initially Chef Louis stood at the other side of the car park, his back discreetly turned to us. After a while though he turned round, and then just quite blatantly watched. But we all managed a complete change of clothing with incredible modesty. It was nice to be dry, and we hoped that warm would soon follow. It took all of us considerably longer than anticipated to warm up satisfactorily, and we all decided that we had certainly done things in the right order as we would most certainly warm up rock climbing.

 Chef Louis got dressed for gorge walking – wearing wellies and folding up the trousers to above his knee, with straps over his shoulders he bounded around. ‘I wish I was called George’ he said, ‘then I could be gorgeous George in his gorge walking gear’.

After a brief pause for lunch we went to the rock face for the climbing part of the day. Our instructor – King Triton – asked us to group around him and then asked for a volunteer. No one moved. Aware that Alana was probably about to nominate me anyway, I stepped forward. While King Triton sorted out the harness Aquata had I was asked to entertain the group. I did so for a few seconds but then held off, not wanting to over-excite them too much. That was my excuse anyway.

I was then used as the model to demonstrate how to put on the harness. Firstly King Triton fastened it around my waist (perhaps at this stage I should point out that I was wearing a thermal top, long sleeved T-shirt, fleece and waterproof jacket and the hat that I had been wearing was now in my pocket). King Triton warned that if anyone had belly piercings they might want to remove them as the harness would sit right on top of it and almost certainly hurt.

Next King Triton hooked up the leg loops, by passing them through my legs and attaching them to the harness round my waist. He did warn me what he was about to do. He did not, however, tell me that he was going to stand behind me and tug on the leg strap before attaching it to the waist harness. Naturally I bobbed up onto my toes and exclaimed ‘ooh!’ much to the amusement of the group. I was starting to regret volunteering myself.

I perhaps made matters worse by commenting that the leg straps might hurt any other piercings someone may have. King Triton asked whether there was anything that I wanted to share with the group.

He then went on to tighten up the leg straps. As a result of the vast quantity of clothing I was wearing, this created a rather large bulge between my legs. When I first noticed it I joked that if I was a bloke I would be proud of this. My comments however simply drew everyone’s attention to this large package. King Triton asked again whether there was anything I wanted to share with the group. As the giggles continued I became very self conscious of my package. I tried, and failed, to spread my clothing out and minimise the bulge. In the end I unzipped the bottom of my waterproof (with the clever and previously unused two ended zip facility) and managed to remove the problem at last.

We then went over to the wall where King Triton showed us how to belay. He also talked through the smilers role – which basically consisted of having another set of hands on the life rope just in case the belayer forgot themselves and let go. I was hooked up to the rope (Alana was belaying) and King Triton asked to scamper up the rock. Which I duly did.  Whilst I have climbed before, I was nervous about scaling a rock face with complete beginners being relied upon for my personal safety. After getting several feet up King Triton asked me stop. He showed the group the belaying process to get someone back down; asked me to keep my feet on the wall lean back and then walk down the rock.

We were then split into two groups on two climbs – one slightly harder than the other. Alana, Ariel and I were in one group on the easier climb. As I was already hooked up I climbed up first. The rock face was wonderfully pitted and was reasonably easy to climb – although there were a couple of slightly challenging parts. A large scar across the middle of the rock provided a good spot for a break and photo looking back down.

I came back down and Alana went next. She managed to get reasonably high up before calling it a day. Ariel climbed up with little difficulty. We looked over to the other group – the first climber had not yet finished. To kill time Ariel climbed again. By now a couple of people in the other group had completed the climb. So, still in the interests of killing time we belayed for Ursula to do our climb.

She had made it to the top of the slightly more difficult climb. Carlotta hadn’t – in fact she hadn’t enjoyed the experience at all. Attina gave it a try but wasn’t able to get very far up the rock face – I think she was overly concerned about the possibility of falling and hurting herself. Aquata – having not really enjoyed the climbing aspects of the gorge walk – struggled terribly. King Triton took the expected approach. He didn’t force anyone but did try to encourage people a little beyond their first ‘give up’ stage.

 Aquata just lost her nerve completely, and once on the ground took herself off into a corner to cry. Amazingly, she did actually have a go on the other climb. As did Attina and Carlotta who enjoyed the second one a little more – having gained just a little bit of experience and vital confidence.

Prince Eric – having been off for a run all morning – had recently appeared. As I climbed he laughed and joked, telling me that I was taking forever and slightly surprised that I stopped, again, to take a photo. He was similarly rude to Alana as she climbed, telling her off enormously for using her knees. He then decided to have a climb.

 As he readied himself he asked who would be belaying. Alana and I informed him that we were ready. He looked up, fractionally nervous, and perhaps reconsidering his early comments to both of us.

Prince Eric then bolted up the rock face – naturally we told him he was taking forever. Then – joy of joys – he used his knee. Ever so slightly, and he of course claimed that he hadn’t used it at all. But it was enough for us - we felt vindicated.

 Finally there was an abseil down. Rather than scaling the rock face it was possible to free climb up one side of it. Towards the top the ‘path’ was very steep and loose stoned. King Triton had attached a rope for anyone requiring it to pull themselves up. I was determined not to use it and was rather pleased with myself for getting up there unaided. As with all abseils, the most unpleasant part is stepping out onto the top of the climb while not fully attached to all the ropes. The top of this one was a very small ledge which did not in any way provide feelings of security. The abseil itself was rather good fun – and Prince Eric encouraged me to let loads of rope out and bounce down the rock.

 The second group of gorge walkers returned, looking freezing. Once they had all changed we headed back to Forest Lodge where we had 45 minutes to shower and change before going out for dinner.

Dinner was at a wonderful pub where we sat around an enormous table, looking like a medieval banquet. The food was incredible, and priced accordingly. All in all the evening was a wonderful success, in which we teased Prince Eric mercilessly.

 On Sunday we needed to be up by 7am as we had to leave by 4 and needed enough time for a good walk. No one was up beforehand. Our door was knocked on twice before we finally decided to face the day. When our room ventured downstairs we found that only Prince Eric and Chef Louis were there. So we set to making breakfast, grilling vast quantities of sausages and bacon. The toaster was very slow and only cooked one side of the bread. The problem was compounded by the loaf of bread being a very curious shape – as though it had been slept on. The inevitable happened – I got a piece of toast stuck in the toaster. At this juncture King Triton arrived (King Triton from the group as opposed to King Triton the instructor) and asked if there was anything he could do. ‘Oh yes there is’ I informed him, and set him to work retrieving the stuck toast (which I had made more difficult by already picking at it and thereby shredding any of the easily reachable bits). We all had a few moments to compare our various bruises from the previous day. Alana, Carlotta and I had some rather special ones.

 Breakfast eaten and washed up Prince Eric did a quick navigation session and we then got ready to set off – just as the rain was starting.

Carlotta now showed anti BMF elements commenting that she really did object to being bossed around in this manner. I tried to tell her that even an organised sight seeing trip bossed you around this much. It was nothing to do with being military, and if left to sort ourselves out we would never get anywhere.

As we went our someone asked Chef Louis whether he felt outnumbered by all the girls (all the BMF trips I have done have been equally split but this one has 2 men and 15 girls). Chef Louis informed us that he was usually surrounded by this many women but that at least this time he didn’t have to sleep with us all.

There were to be 2 groups -  a fast one and a slow one.  Whilst many of us had an idea which group we wanted to be in, the initial part of the walk would be done by everyone and therefore provide an idea of the group pacing. The fast group would complete a longer walk over 4 peaks whilst the shorter one would simply go up Pen y Fan and back.

 King Triton and I (having maps and compasses) led and I suggested that we set a decent pace, which I heartily regretted when we started on the first hill to Fan Fawr. The rain had stopped but as we climbed we came into the low cloud. Half way up the hill we had formed our groups. Prince Eric’s fast group consisted of King Triton, Arista, King Triton, me, Ariel, Carlotta and Ursula (neither of whom were necessarily sure about being fast enough but wanted the longer walk). They were already unsure about this decision and I was realising my unfitness. King Triton and Arista – being unhumanly fit – ran off into the distance. King Triton and Ariel strode on with apparent ease. The ascent flattened out for a bit before a final, unnecessarily steep climb. By now King Triton was struggling. We took the hill in bite size chunks – picking a spot to aim for where we would pause. As we reached the top the weather started to lift and we could see the next hill, – with a deep valley between us and it.

Fan Fawr was just as steep to get down. We had left King Tritoned tracks long ago and were making our way over reasonably wearing walking ground – uneven, marshy and with clumps of long grasses.

In the valley we needed to negotiate a small but deep and fast flowing stream. Prince Eric got himself over and with the help of a lot of hand holding we managed to cross. Having now been going for 3 hours Prince Eric, and in the warmth of the valley sun Prince Eric decided this would be a good time to stop for a few minutes for a quick snack.

King Triton and Arista had run off ahead. Several minutes later – having already climbed the hill – they came back down to find us.

Thus refreshed we started the climb. My legs were hurting but by now I had got my second wind and, despite the pain, was storming up the hill. Perhaps the BMF spirit had been re-kindled. Or maybe relics of the Commando Challenge mentality. I was surprised to now be leaving King Triton behind with Carlotta and Ursula.

 Naturally there was yet another down and up to go. The downward slope was not too steep but was littered with a number of deep and narrow stream cuttings. There were also a couple of barbed wire fences to get over. Prince Eric was waiting at the bottom of the next, and final hill. We waited for everyone to catch up and then began.

By now Carlotta was starting to suffer. She turned to me to ask whether my legs were hurting. ‘Yes’ I told her, and then sped on up the hill. And they were hurting. My hamstrings were in agony and I motored up until the paid became too much, pausing for a few brief seconds when necessary.

Ariel was slightly ahead of me while Prince Eric, King Triton and Arista were small specks in the distance. The views were now stunning and the day had become very warm and sunny. The final hill was crushingly demoralising with numerous false summits which Ariel gently warned us about each time with comments such as ‘guys, you’re not going to like this’. By now most of us had resorted to swearing. The pace had never slackened and I don’t recall ever covering so much ground – and so many hills – so fast.

 After a final push we finally made it to the summit. Prince Eric had called Chef Louis to find out how the other group were doing. Apparently one of them had very bad blisters and Aquata was exhausted. They hadn’t yet got up Pen Y fan but were heading back. Prince Eric told us to make our way down the hill and have lunch, then head back to Forest Lodge along the road (about 6 miles). He would run back – as would King Triton and Arista – then drive out to collect us before going on to pick up the other group.

We had a quick lunch at the bottom of the hill, feeling invigorated by our long walk and pleased in the end that we had picked the faster group. Ariel set a fast pace back along the road. In true BMF style we were not going to start relaxing now.

When Prince Eric did come out for us he commented that we were further along the road than he had expected us to be. Back at the farmhouse we showered, dressed, packed and cleaned up, expecting the other group at any time. But Prince Eric came back empty handed. They had moved from the agreed meet point.

He set off again to a new rendevous – and again came back empty handed. There were gates along the route that had been locked so he couldn’t get to them.

 With everything cleaned away I asked Prince Eric whether there was anything I needed to hang around for or whether I could get going. He gave me a hug and let me on my way.

 Now, on the drive back down to the M4 I was able to see the stunning hills of the Brecons that I had driven through on Friday night. Looking around you almost wanted to get out and climb them. All over again. For now I resisted and turned for home.