A pleasing Superman experience (Nietzschean or DC Comics - take your pick) climbing Pen-y-Fan the "hard way" from the North in just 1hr 35m starting from the old Cwm Gwyn army camp above Brecon. On the way down, more circuitously via Corn Du and the Tommy Jones obelisk, the going gets tough as my knees protest and feet grow numb and oddly squishy (serious walkers will know what I mean). After nearly five hours superhuman fantasies are replaced by middle-aged stiffness and the car is a welcome sight.
I've climbed the mountain at least once a year since the 1980s but rarely in such good conditions: a cold start (serious frost on the car this morning for the first time this autumn) but bright sun and crystal clear air.
It's hard not to feel on top of the world up there and I congratulate myself on choosing a "staycation" this week having nearly pressed the buttons on my computer to fly to Syracuse, Sicily, for seven hot days of mollycoddling and Marsala courtesy of Thomson's Holidays' fancypants brand ("Gold"? Or is that the one for oldies?). Mrs Blog says she agrees but there is something wistful in her expression.
Ich würde nur an einen Gott glauben, der zu tanzen verstünde
