Adèle Donaghie and her mum explore three walks around the breathtaking Brecon Beacons in Wales.

Walking is a splendid outdoor pursuit. A good walk leaves you feeling invigorated, costs nothing more than a little wear and tear on your boots and can be conducted at your own pace. As a walker I know my limitations: I'm definitely more of a gentle-rolling-hills-and-lush-green-meadows kind of walker.

You know the sort: a preferably-with-a-pub-at-the-end-of-it walker. All of which made me wonder why I was sitting in a pub, choosing a path to the summit of Wales' highest mountain. After all, climbing mountains is dangerous, requires a great deal of effort and conjures up images of people dangling from ropes. These are not things I associate with my walking holidays.

The Brecon Beacons is one of those rare areas that never seems to get clogged by the crawling conga of tourists on the trail of beautiful Britain.

I visited with my mum, Brigitte, during August Bank Holiday, but there was little traffic and parking was a doddle. I can see why my mum and her group of ramblers often opt for the Beacons over the Lake or Peak districts. The Brecon Beacon National Park, in south Wales, is home to sheltered woods, windswept moors, dramatic peaks and sparkling waterways, as well as Welsh legend and history. Its glacier-carved landscape is dominated by flat-topped, green-clad sandstone formations. The shadows of the clouds that sweep their flanks make them look like verdant waves about to crash on the plains below. Place names such as Mynydd Du, Bannau Brycheiniog and Fforest Fawr seem to belong in some Tolkienian fantasy land.

The park covers three main ranges: the Black Mountains that stand watch over the English/Welsh border; the confusingly named Black Mountain (some people refer to these peaks as the Carmarthen Fan); and the eponymous Beacons between them.

Any walking trip here should start at the Mountain Centre, in the shadow of the central Beacons, where you can pick up leaflets, maps and books, and get detailed guidance from the super-helpful wardens about the paths that will suit you best.

The wardens are fastidious in their advice because, although the hills are blessed with some fantastically easy routes, many walkers have come a cropper on these hills when the weather changes quickly or cloud settles over the moors. Staff advise walkers always to take plenty of food, water and warm clothes even for short strolls on sunny days. We were blessed with fine weather all week, but the wind was vicious on the summits, which made me grateful for my woolly hat and thick fleece. Kitted out with Ordnance Survey Explorer maps 12 and 13, plus helpful hints from the wardens, mum and I returned to Pencelli Castle Caravan & Camping Park, our base for the week.

Walk 1: Pen-y-Fan and Corn Du

Time

3.5 hours

How strenuous

4/5

How technical

1/5

This pair of scowling, sandstone hunks are the stars of the park. You can see the brooding flat-topped giants from most places in the area. Just when you think you’ve evaded their gaze, they reappear from beyond a lonely moor to remind you that, at 2907ft, Pen-y-fan is the highest point in south Wales. No trip to the park would be complete without a bracing hike to their peaks. Although it’s a yomp through dramatic landscape, it’s no walk in the park; any of the many approaches involves a fair share of going straight up.

However, with the right weather, any pain from sore legs and aching lungs melts away when you take in the breathtaking views from the top. If you follow our route, the steepness of the ascent will be the only troubling factor. The paths are as easy to navigate as highways, so you can concentrate on the vista.

Boot up at the Storey Arms car park. Don’t be fooled into thinking the white buildings house a pub; they are actually home to an educational centre. The car park, however, is free for public use. Get here early, though; by 10.30am the 50 or so spaces are likely to be full.

Cross the road towards the buildings; a telephone box stands to the right. Climb over the wooden gate next to it and you’re on the pathway that leads to the top of Pen-y-Fan. This is affectionately called ‘the M4’, due to its width and partly to the traffic that passes over it. However, once you see the spongy bogs this terrain is famed for, you’ll be thankful for the paving beneath your feet.

Depending on fitness, you might want to take a breather; I certainly did after about 20 minutes of going uphill. I masked my unfitness with the excuse of looking at the view, which was thoroughly rewarding. The ascent faced the grassy flanks of Fan Fawr; due south I could see the Beacons Reservoir, a glistening gash in the sun-washed landscape.

A couple of gulps of water and it’s up, up and away – quite literally. Your interim goal looms progressively larger above you: the flat top of Corn Du, 2864ft above sea level. The path flattens over moorland, but it’s best to keep your head down or keep your eyes left or right – looking ahead will only reveal the steep final ascent to the summit. My mother kept her head down to watch one foot step before the other. It was working for her: she was soon a long way ahead of me.

However, she did start to slow; I wondered, uncharitably, whether age was catching up with her. But I soon realised it wasn’t the tide of time but, rather, a wind blowing across the Usk plain that hit the flanks of the Beacons like a freight train. If you come with children, hold onto them and keep dogs on a tight lead because the wind is very strong, even on the clearest days – and the drop to the north is sheer.

Peering over the edge carefully you can see Llyn Cwm llwch. Legend has it that a terrible being rules this lake, which the villagers of Brecon had planned to drain into a trench. However, the sky blackened, the wind howled and a fearsome eddy boiled up within the lake. A spirit rose from the water and threatened to drown the town and the whole of the Vale of Usk. Sensibly they desisted and went home.

This was the hardest part of the walk but it lasted only 35 minutes. The Beacons have an invigorating power: you can be toiling uphill, silently cursing whoever had suggested the climb, until you reach the top. All the pain and recriminations melt away as you reap the reward of having made it.

These summits are actually fairly modest but the flat land around them makes you feel that you’ve climbed a towering peak. We allowed ourselves to be seduced by the scene before following the path for another 20 minutes to our ultimate goal: Pen-y-Fan. We stood on the summit for two minutes before the piercing wind forced us to take shelter on the south side. With our retreat, the seasons changed, and we peeled off our fleeces and woolly hats.

This would have been a brilliant, sheltered picnic spot, had it not been for a couple of pesky sheep. We were just tucking into Welsh cakes bought from our site’s shop when the fluffy thieves descended upon us. I was more preoccupied with the risk of aerial bombardment by crows. It was time to descend.

We followed the south path below the summit of Corn Du, which is much gentler than the ascent, so we met many people going the opposite way, including couples and families, young and old. But, personally, I prefer the short sharp shock of the ascent.

Walk 2: Llyn y Fan Fach

Time

3.5 hours

How strenuous

3/5

How technical

3/5

After a good night’s sleep at Pencelli, we awoke to blue skies and thoughts of another hike. Gerwyn, the friendly site owner, pointed us towards Black Mountain, aka Carmarthen Fan.

We soon understood why it gets few visitors: it’s no small undertaking to get to Landdeusant, our starting point. The sat-nav in our Focus took us off the A40 west of Llandovery, where the road narrowed. Hedgerows grow unchecked so visibility is limited. We also had to keep our wits about us as red kites swooped from overhanging trees.

Because of the previous day’s exertions, we wanted a short walk, so we followed the road east through the village to the trout fishery. There were 30 parking spaces on the grass verges, but even during a school holiday, it was far from full.

We followed the mettled road as it climbed gently and paused by the fishery to watch the leaping trout, in view of Bannau Sir Gaer. Striated by erosion gullies, the mountain looked as if someone had dug in his fingernails as he slid down its flanks. We ignored tracks bearing left but ours did as well, following the contours of the hill. Five minutes later, we were at the shore of Llyn y Fan Fach.

The Spirit of the Fans is said to have lived here and sailed the waters in a golden gondola. Struck by her beauty, a farmer sought her hand in marriage by offering the lake bread. The Spirit agreed to marry him and brought with her a dowry of cattle. But there was a catch: if he struck her three times, she would be off. Needless to say, he did and, in an early show of girl power, she took her riches and returned to the lake.

We could have stopped at the lake’s dark waters, retracing our steps back to the car. But the summit beckoned, so it was onwards and upwards, along a grassy path heading west. It wasn’t marked on the OS 12 map we were using, but it was easy to follow as it crossed moorland and climbed to the ridge. The higher we went, the stronger the wind. From the top, the land opened before us; in the distance we spotted the silver sliver of the Bristol Channel. We followed the ridge north along the Beacons Way. As the path became faint, we stuck to the green, grassy channel to the east of the erosion gully and descended gently.

We came to a wooded area and walked alongside a stream through the trees as it bore east. Soon it met the road from Llanddeusant and we returned to the fishery.

We had passed just one family and two couples all morning.

Walk 3: Llanthony Abbey & Offa’s Dyke

Time

3 hours

How strenuous

3/5

How technical

2/5

Friends were staying at a campsite in Hay-on-Wye, so we got together for a day’s rambling. After a breakfast of bacon butties in the Deseo, we set out for Llanthony and the ruins of its Augustinian priory.

Ignoring my own advice, we set out mid-morning on a bank holiday weekend – a bad time for driving through extremely narrow roads, when farmers are at their busiest. The short journey took the better part of an hour. We were compensated by the beauty of the landscape that felt a million miles from anywhere.

From the free car park, we walked towards the ridge with the ruins on our right, picking our way past artists, who were making the most of the view before them. Then it was straight to work; this was another route leading directly to a view.

We followed the signs for Offa’s Dyke, running along the top of the ridge. The climb took about an hour and half, with plenty of stops for drinks and Jelly Babies. But the view provided as big a boost as the sugar. It’s a classic holiday-brochure vista of a river cutting through a rolling green valley. With precipitous walls shielding it from the rest of the world, this was the obvious choice for those engaged in religious contemplation. However, its isolation was its undoing, as the English priory was an easy target for Owain Glyndwr, the last native prince of Wales, who attacked it during his 15th-century rebellion against the English.

In glorious weather, we again spotted the Bristol Channel and the coast of Somerset. To the east, the Malvern Hills stood proudly above the plains of Worcestershire and, to the south-east, the Cotswolds undulated into the distance.

We followed the path for a mile and a half to a pile of stones signalling the descent to the Vale of Ewas and the village of Capel-y-Ffin. The path was rocky, overgrown with ferns and tricky to negotiate. We couldn’t see where we were putting our feet so we took extra care here, even with the tempting distraction of glancing at the valley.

The zigzag descent took 40 minutes, ending by Vision Farm. Just before Trevelog, we joined the bridleway staying east of the river and passing the campsite on our right for a mile and a quarter. The path joins the road and 100 yards away is the gate to the priory. We had a well-earned pint on the lawn under the Norman archways.

Walk 4: Waterfall walk

Time

2 hours

How strenuous

2/5

How technical

2/5

The area is not all towering peaks and windswept heathland. To the south lies the Vale of Neath, known as waterfall country. Nowhere else in Wales boasts as many in such a small space. You can spend days exploring the rivers Mellte, Hepste and Nedd Fechan and their falls.

We decided on the Pontneddfechan walk to Sgwd y Ddwli: the parking is free and it’s the easiest walk in this area (you can take a child in a pushchair along the first section to Sgwd). However, some paths are long and steep and can be slippery even in summer, presenting a challenge for the most experienced walkers. Visit the information office in Pontneddfechan for advice on which routes will suit you best. We were just after a pleasant amble.

We left the car park, passed a pub on our left and went through a gate just beyond it. The path led us between the river Nedd Fechan, to our right, and impressive limestone overhangs and caves, which were once mined for silica, used to make firebricks. The stone sleepers from the mine’s tramway were still visible alongside.

The path wound through deciduous woodland, shaded by beech and oak, which has kept the sun from getting in to dry it out. After 30 minutes, we began to climb and had to watch our footing on the uneven ground.

Soon, we reached Horseshoe Falls, a collection of semicircular ledges jutting out on several levels. The climax of the walk was Sgwd y Ddwli. Two walkers warned us to take even more care on the flat, slippery rocks we were approaching. At that moment, the rambler ahead of us lost her footing and she became acquainted with the limestone path. So be careful – it can happen!

We had the option of continuing to the car park at Pont Melin-fach above the falls, but it’s steep going. Instead, we retraced our steps to the Angel for a pint. Fed and watered, we returned to the Deseo for sleep. We had a couple of days more to enjoy the landscape, but this time from the comfort of Pencelli Castle’s pretty grounds, sitting in chairs with our feet up. After all, holidays are also about taking it easy.