Distance: 2km
Accessibility: A short walk. This is more for the view than the exercise. Fully paved roads.
Landscape: Roads and bridges.
My knees ached after last week’s walk. So today I searched for a piece of history to explore. Tungol Brycg was perfect.
Despite thick woodland on either side, humanity still encroached nature through a thick line of train tracks. Even if that grip is slipping. The village that once stood here are heaps of weed covered bricks..
But a stone bridge crosses over the tracks between the remains of two stations. This remarkable structure is made even more so by the remote location. More starlings visit than people.
But what intrigued me most of all is a rumour about the design. An urban legend. Supposedly, on a certain night of the year, if the moon is full, the light will shine right through the arch, and form a pool underneath. I do not quite understand the logistics of this, but a beautiful image nevertheless.
And I love the look of a train rushing down the tracks. All those people. All those different journeys. They never feel fast when you are on them, do they?
The start of the walk was like cheating. The path up is clear, the roads flat and tarmacked. This was a commuter station after all, designed for horses and hatchbacks. I arrive at the bridge with my water bottle two thirds full..
Decades have passed since someone last hopped on a service from here. Vines crawl over the long stone lips, waiting for passengers from houses long since claimed by the woods.
Odd to think for so many people this spot was such a nondescript part of their day. I suppose everywhere ends up like that. Castles were once office blocks.
But this does not stop my enjoyment of the trains.
Three pass in an hour. You hear them first. Metal cylinders cutting a straight line across the landscape. I leant over, and watched the mechanised spiderweb of track vanish into roaring steel.
A good place for Archie. He would have appreciated the mixture of nature and economics. Perhaps this is what I should have focused on. Steam fares, and cranes by the river.
I remember the way his voice distorted when he shouted down the mobile. I still think of the moment where things changed, and wonder about possible ways to go back.
It took me a while to realise the birds had stopped..
The trees on the right bent and cracked. Something zoomed towards me, faster than any locomotive. Weaving through the forest in a perfect route. Charging towards a stone structure as crumbling as the most ancient of temple ruins.
:::I was so calm Barbara. So much better than last week. This is my place now. The authorities will not help.
And in a weird way, I would rather face this down than try and contact Archie again. Especially when you see what happened next. :::
