Riding a wave of good fortune and morale after hitching a lift with the off-road crew and rescuing Sheepy The Sheep from a barbed wire fence, we reached the comfort of the car and were relieved to get our weighty packs in the back and the engine started.

  Lou had booked a b and b over in Llandrindod Wells on the other side of the mountains just in case our first night in the bothy left us sleep deprived and craving home comforts. It was great having that option and peace of mind, but I’m certain Louise also had other intentions. There happens to be an awesome restaurant called Fabien’s in town, which we discovered on our previous trip. In our humble opinion it serves the best fish curry known to man. You know it’s good when the chef comes out to chat to the customers and it also features in Lonely Planet.  Despite the temptation, we decided to stick with the original plan though and try to locate The Claerddu bothy, which the map suggested was no more than about six miles from the other one as the crow flies. Our road route was of course at least double that distance as it snaked its way up towards the clouds, taking us on perilous climbs and bends as it did so. Louise was rather nervous throughout, especially as the weather closed in and sent rain splattering against the windscreen.

  Collecting our gear for the night from the car proved more challenging than it had been the previous afternoon thanks to the near horizontal rain and gale forced wins that were doing their best to rip the car doors off their hinges. I’m slightly mad and have always loved extreme weather. This was no different. Lou I think just wanted to get moving and to the shelter of the bothy as soon as possible. 

  It took us a while to work out exactly which way to go. The bothy was marked on the OS map, but had no clear path leading to it. Lou had visions of us fighting our way through the bog that is so prevalent in the area and is a walker’s nightmare.  I could just picture us heading in the wrong direction and miles from anywhere. Luckily though the geographer in me came to the fore and I remembered how I’d seen videos of the bothy and there was a stream out front.  With this in mind, I knew the building would be hidden in a valley and so we had to descend from where we were. A track of sorts lead from the road and we decided to take our chances and follow it. Eight minutes later and the building came into view- much easier and shorter than we expected.

  We discovered on arrival that the building was built in 1853 and was in a location that felt far more wild than that of the previous night. Not a tree could be seen anywhere. This was big sky country and instead we were sat at around 450 metres above sea level with hills surrounding us in all directions.

On entering the bothy we discovered much to our delight that we had the place to ourselves. It was a far darker building than that of the previous night with dark brickwork inside and tiny windows, which let little light in. We had expected more luxury before arriving as we had read that this bothy was run by The Elan Valley Trust and had running water and even a flushing toilet. Very comfortable living by bothy standards. Sadly, that is where the luxury ended. The place was frankly very grubby and a pile of dirty dishes left piled in the sink didn’t make for a pleasant sight.

   A local farmer stopped by soon after our arrival and confirmed that a group of youngsters had visited the weekend before and used it as a party pad. Piles of beer bottles were left outside and they had clearly forgotten the bothy code of leaving the place the way you found it. Such a shame that a minority can spoil the experience for everybody else. While I walked back to the car to collect the candles we’d forgotten to pack, Louise set about cleaning the place up a bit and did a great job in making it a bit more homely.

  As the sun set, we got the fire going, the candles lit and the food cooking. We tried our best to settle in and enjoy it, but it just didn’t feel as cosy as the previous night. The front door wouldn’t close properly and a draught could be felt on our backs the entire evening. We also just found the place a little creepy, especially the steep wooden staircase and dingy bedroom areas upstairs. It wasn’t until we left the previous day that Louise told me how uneasy she had felt about the place as soon as she stepped inside the building.  I also shared her thoughts. Trying to settle down to sleep at around half eleven, my heart raced as I just felt rather vulnerable. Ironically, we were much nearer to civilisation tonight than the Moel Prysgau bothy was, yet we felt safer and more secure there. It proved to be a long night of broken sleep as I listened to the wind howl around the building and Louise snore in little bursts as she slept better than I did. We decided to have a candle burning when we first tried to settle down as the pitch black that would have engulfed us seemed a little too scary. I found myself lighting a new one every couple of hours as I just couldn’t bring myself to sleep in a room where the darkness would almost have been suffocating. I never thought I was scared of the dark, but then I realised that in Welwyn Garden City or Harlow, true darkness like out here didn’t really exist.

  I was relieved to see daylight as I think Louise was as she was keen to get packed up and on our way.   Fire on and breakfast eaten, we were just waiting for the fire to burn itself out when we heard a quad bike outside. To our delight it was the farmer we’d spoken to the previous evening. He asked how our evening went and then proceeded to spend the next twenty minutes or so trying to gather sheep from the surrounding area. One such animal proved really tough to budge and it was brilliant watching the farmer and his dog work together to finally move the sheep to where he wanted it. The odd swear word directed at both the sheep and dog in a thick Welsh accent proved rather amusing too. I’m not moaning about teaching being hard work again. This job was at least ten times as tough. I can only imagine what it must be like in the depths of winter.

Eventually we were rather relieved to head back to the car and start the journey home. Coffee was much needed as I found the four hour slog hard work with lack of sleep the previous night. Louise took care of on board entertainment, treating us to some excellent music from London Grammar and the obligatory Rick Gervais Podcast with the orange-headed Karl Pilkington. Listening to these is becoming a tradition on every road trip now.  The journey would be more boring without them. 

We’ve found since being home how we appreciate the things we take for granted all the time like electricity and central heating. Bothying, if there is such a thing, is hard work and it pushes you in many ways. We feel it’s a great thing to experience though as it allows you to realise how lucky we are to live in today’s world where most things are only the click of a button away. Sometimes it’s just good to get back to basics.