Way to Hill - Wales Weekender Pt. 2

There really was no other way then to turn back and head down to Table Mountain again. Luckily the wind blew now from behind and right so our faces were not exposed to the hail shower. Whenever I turned around it felt like a thousand needles hitting my face. Within just a few minutes the underground was covered in tiny ice grains all around. It felt almost as if someone had literally put some icing onto the grassy slope. A grin crept onto my face as I realized that I seriously enjoyed this. Whatever nature comes up with, there is beauty in all of it.
Still smiling we descended further down, the wind and hail stopped eventually and back at fateful Table Mountain I asked Ross to decide. Go around the east face and head down to Crickhowell, pitch at the campitsite and have enough time to get a pint at a pub or go around the west face, head back to where we came from but keep going on the Beacons Way to Cwmdu and pitch at the campsite. He decided to go for the second and thus longer option.
We walked along the south face of some hills more or less level. with really nice views of the valley. Saw some sheep and some ponies which are really really tiny and not much bigger than big dogs. Most of them were quite shaggy and didn't care about us at all. Lovely.

Lost the path at some point as it just vanished and no waymarker pointed us in the right direction. I knew it just descended down for a bit before it would eventually come up again. So I led us along rather easy paths normally only trodden by sheep until we saw our foot path again and kept on going and going and going.
I must admit that the short bit we walked on the Beacons Way was really beautiful and the whole of it is definitely worth doing. Mental note.
Still, as the day was waning, its constant winding around farms and thus taking - in our exhausted state - unnecessary detours was a bit unnerving.
The thought of a pint in a pub kept us going at a more or less steady pace. I was already looking out for halfway decent places to pitch our tents as we had maybe half an hour of daylight left. A public footpath forked off to the left leading straight into the village presenting us with a nice short cut. We took it and ended up at a closed gate. Yay... Climbed back up to our path having lost precious 15 minutes and too much of the little strength we had left.
Passed by another public footpath and didn't even bother checking it. It was almost dark and the Beacons Way would lead us definitely into the village at some point. Then the path again led upwards instead of straight down into the village. No! From the looks of it, it just avoided another farm.
I left my backpack with Ross, ran back to the public footpath to have a quick look while there was still some light left. Not far down it met a tarmac road! Yes! That meant civilisation! Ran back to Ross and there we stood at that road not long after not knowing if we should head left or right. Took out our torches and decided to ask for the way at the farmhouse to the right.
I knocked and could see an old man hunched over a pot in his kitchen. He looked at me, I waved, he chose to ignore us and went out of the kitchen. Errr..... ooookay.
The other way then. After a few minutes we hit a dead end on a farm... again! We had more than enough. I was ready to pitch right here on the field. It was level, no livestock present and we would be gone in the morning. Then Ross remembered seeing a car on the farm, so the old man *had* to have access to a road. We went back and indeed, hidden behind a wall the tarmac road continued down! Yes! We had made it. We would not leave that road now, no matter how long we would have to walk. Ha!
Arrived in the village proper and met two ladies on our way to the campsite. Of course (!) it was still closed at that time of the year. I was determined to climb a fence if necessary, but they had a better idea and dragged us quite willingly to the pub. The nice owners offered us straight away to camp in the garden. Ha! Jackpot.
So we did. It was level and there was even light out there, perfect! We went inside after pitching our tents and had a few pints and a decent (for us the best) rump steak each. They had a fire burning and we could've just slept there right in front of the fireplace.
Eventually left the cosy warmth of "The Farmers Arms" pub and finally crawled stiff and aching into our sleeping bags.
What a day. We had walked a good distance - about 30km - and lost a lot of time re-routing for a number of reasons. We had enough of public footpaths and would definitely take an easier route tomorrow.