A trip to the Welsh Borders provides Sue Taylor with a golden opportunity for some leisurely exploration
HAVING SPENT THE PAST (whisper it) 40-plus years camping and touring around the UK, it always surprises me when I come across an area I had not heard of before.
For me, one of the many joys of touring is finding these nuggets of interest nestled away in the British countryside – just when I think I’ve discovered them all, up pops something new to enjoy.
Looking at likely destinations for a long weekend break last autumn, I stumbled across Poston Mill Touring Park, in the Golden Valley. Hang on a minute, the what valley? Google tells me this is an area of time-forgotten villages, wild countryside and pubs nestled between the Rivers Dore and Monnow, near the Black Mountains.
Could it be more English? Yet it is almost on the Welsh border, in Herefordshire.
No further persuasion needed, a quick call confirmed that Poston Mill had space for us, and off we went.
Heading for Hay
Poston Mill is a friendly site just outside Peterchurch, a village full of interesting history (of which more shortly), with a bar/restaurant on site and a bus stop just a few minutes’ walk away.
Happily for husband Ro, there is also a pitch and putt course, and reception has a small selection of clubs that visitors are welcome to borrow.
Willow the pup was well catered for, too, with a dog-walking area to stretch her legs after the trip from home, and a dog-wash to freshen up before an evening in the pub.
Although it is in the same place, The Mill is run independently from the campsite and at quiet times, has limited opening hours. But we had no trouble securing dinner there, and Willow managed to befriend a dog at another table for good measure, so an enjoyable evening was had by all.
Keen to see what the Golden Valley had in store, we wasted no time next morning in washing up our breakfast paraphernalia and heading off to Hay-on-Wye.
Our route took us through some of that wild, time-forgotten scenery, and I imagined myself travelling in a horse-drawn carriage, with a coaching inn as my destination for the night. It felt as though very little had changed over the years and I was enjoying the same sights as those long-ago travellers, though of course, in rather more comfort.
There are two possible explanations as to how the area got its name. One is that Queen Victoria described it as ‘golden’ when emerging through a tunnel to see the sunlight capping the hills.
The other (more likely) is due to Norman confusion between their word fo
