Like many places on any given road, tucked down a side lane or over the next hill, ancient stories lie almost silent and the world drives by, never knowing. Entering Llyswen is like this, fanning out where the A470 meets A479, with the surrounding fields, mounds and copses teeming with clues of history buried with the passing of time. Before reaching this T-junction on the A470 leading from Brecon are the remains of the prehistoric Llyswen Camp. A 140 metre in diameter hillfort, dated from the Iron Age. Travel on a bit further and there’s the circular barrow. Barrows are burial mounds – stone or wooden vaults covered with earth. The circular shape dates it to the Early Bronze Age, used for a chief or an important leader. Long barrows or cairns came later and included family or clans. This one in Llyswen is 2 metres high and even more ancient than the hillfort. Both await further exploration on the archaeological level. However the local legend reputes the hill fort to be remnants of the court site for ninth century, King Rhodri Mawr’s sons.
The Wye River – Afon Gwy – hairpins at Llyswen, quietly snuggled in the shadow of the Black Mountains on its west and the Brecon Beacons to the south.
Llyswen, sometimes written as Llys-wen, is first recorded in 1126 as Lisewan. This name translates to English as White Court. Perhaps evidence of Rhodri Mawr and his sons’ footprints here? Beautifully small in the county Powys and part of the Community of Bronllys, Llyswen, prior to the reorganisation in 1974 was in County Brecknockshire…Sir Frycheiniog.
Eight miles southwest of Llyswen is Brecon. Another neighbour, Builth Wells, is eleven miles northwest and Hay-on-Wye sits seven miles to the northeast. Buses come and go connecting villagers and guests to these neighbouring towns, villages and beyond into the rest of Wales.
The Wye, Afon Gwy, makes a loop shaped almost like a rabbit’s ear right there, as if marking the spot for this village. The river rolls through like a fat, flat earthworm, brown mirrored with the green reflection of the bordering trees. Sitting beside this steady flow amidst creeping buttercup and clumps of pink great willow herb, gazing, is a meditation in itself. A total immersion in the unspoilt countryside – waiting to spot a heron or hear a red kite overhead, or even watching folks patiently wait for that tug on the end of the fishing line, signalling a trout or a salmon caught. Canoes go by and in the evening, there can be the surprise of otters at play.
West of Llyswen, before the Boughrood Bridge, the Community Hall is Church Street leading past a stone church 100 metres or so from the river. Within its hedge is the somewhat circular cemetery with names that tell of lives gone, yet still present in each engraved headstone and marker. St Gwendoline, a daughter of King Brychan of Brycheiniog and a local saint buried in the nearby village of Talgarth, is the patron of the church – St Gwendoline. It was rebuilt in 1862 on the site of the demolished medieval church. The present tower holds the original bell and within the sanctuary, the font is all that’s left of its Norman story.
This countryside laced with lanes bordered with intact hedgerows nurtures bucolic farmlands of sheep and cattle. Above the village on Llandefalle Hill lies the Brechfa Pool and Common. The pool, which fluctuates in water levels between winter and summer, is six hundred feet above the Wye River. It’s a nature reserve for many unique plants like the rare pillwort – presently threatened by the newly arrived invasive Crassula, a New Zealand pigmy weed. Orange foxtail and pennyroyal also grows here on the water’s edge.
In winter, the water level is high, hosting wintering waterfowls like the mallard and widgeon. Spring and autumn see curlews and red shanks on route, with the mute swans, coots and reed buntings here for their breeding season. In summer, fourteen different species of dragonflies were zinging over the various small pools, and in the water, another rarity lives – the fairy shrimp.
Not far from my stop here, I got lost. After taking the trail, west of the historic pub, reaching and exploring the Common, mist descended. Thick mist. Keeping to the path was easy, but when the cloud lifted, the more substantial blobs which had appeared, turned out to be sheep. Most of them ignored my presence. However, continuing through this flock of Welsh sheep grazing freely on the move was slightly daunting. Circumnavigating, rather than walking through the woolly sea became the plan. A poor sense of direction, strong and alive that morning, coupled with the map no longer in my jacket pocket and no longer to be found, deepened the adventure. In the distance, the red top of a post van skimmed the curve of a hill, going in the direction I was heading. I marched on. Keeping as close as was possible to the hedgerow, I followed in the little van’s tracks. Post van, plus lane, equals a farmhouse not far. Soon, sure enough, more than could be hoped, came the blissful sound of a tractor.
Once back on the right path, I mentally rescheduled my enterprising walk to the Llangeod Woods and the Standing Stone and returned to the village, to the bed & breakfast for warm custard over apple tart. At the pub that evening, my pudding came to me before I ordered it. The server nodded his head towards the corner. My hero farmer tipped his cap with a smile. He was still shaking his head.
In 2008, Llyswen with quiet charm found itself in the top ten list of most desirable villages for living in. It is poised where the south of Wales begins to meet the north; steady and comfortable with a strong sense of identity and purpose, the land holds its heritage close, ready for those who explore.
Getting there:
By bus: T14 from Brecon. T14 and 39A from Hay on Wye. X15 from Builth Wells – Check the tables for changes, particularly for the last two villages.
By train: From Builth Wells Station, then take the bus.
