A new year breaks and Big G startles us with his polymath grasp of language, culture and, of course, the importance of dolerite boulders to the well being of this great nation of Wales.
It is important to recognise the true stature of Rhyd Ddu's natural wonders and reveal them, not just on a national stage, but beyond.
So first; here is some information for those less fortunate souls currently confined to the inferior stimuli of Fontainebleau.
Take le N104/A104 a Paris. Followe le E15 autoroute nord a Calais. A le aire finale stope pour les decent jambon et le cafe. Après les ferry/tunnele continue a la M 20,26,25 (sud) M40,42,5,6,54 et le A5. (nest pas stoppe a les cafe en route) Quand tu arive a le Capel Curig continue a le A4086 et A498 a Beddgelert (cafe possible) mais ausi le A4085 tu arrive a Rhyd Ddu. Ouis; Il fait chaud, but hey if vous nest pas handle le chaude - vou nest pas hang avec les ‘cool kids’. Aussi if vous nest pas cope a le wet vous nest pas ‘mainstream’.
New visitors will not be disappointed, (however some folk from the likes of Paris, Yorkshire or maybe the Peak will be a little starry-eyed until they re-adjust.)
Now; to the feature in question.
There can be little doubt that the last great problem is the untouched rib gracing the entrance to the narrow cutting at Gr 564 517
Its base is guarded by a small water feature encouraging prospective ascentionists to climb in a rather positive manner.
Oh to slap that last lichen-forested grip; to have and hold!
It would be enough to still the lake geese, transfix the sheep. And beyond; there would be the echoey applause of the Cwm Marchnad streams to the west, and above; sheltering by the immense saddle of Mynydd Drws-y-Coed the rotating dragon clouds, bowed in solemn admiration.
But nothing here can be without difficulty; visitors should be warned; (grown men don't queue for baguettes here!) this is a place where folk have taken the rock from cuttings such as this with their bare hands, a place where their idea of an energy drink is sugared tea, (even in their cake!). Life is sustained on a diet of poetry and prayer, as they sing the evenings away like stout angels. And having turned the muck to brass they turn the brass to great rafts of band music, lifting their spirits through the eight month winter.
Je n' regrette rain
NB. Regular readers may be alarmed to see an actual real person climbing in the BotM images. Apologies if any distress was caused by this break from tradition.