The Welsh countryside was infested with their like! It'll be truly horrendous if sheep were endowed with any more intelligence than they currently are - I can't imagine the amount of mischief they can achieve if they put their minds (supposing they had more brains) and numbers to it. But sheep are really docile creatures, and excellent followers. We had one company-size worth of sheep fall in before us when we were simply standing by the pen looking at them. (Of course we were doing more than just that, we were baa-ing aloud all the way.)
The River Usk, which we followed for a considerable while in our aimless tread through Brecon country.
If you look down at Wales from the top of a hill, you'll see a patchwork of fields stretching as far as the eye can see, very much like a green quilt cover on a very large bed, and a very pretty sight as well!
A farm on the hill where we were pursued by dogs. The path you see in the picture forked somewhere on the horizon, and Gim Hui and I split up to see where each branch led towards. He found that the path led to somewhere more conclusive on his side, and shouted for the rest of us to follow. I took a longer time to catch up with the rest because I was some way forward on the other branch of the fork. But before I could rejoin the group or even see the rest, I heard Cexiang barked (erm, shouted) rather hastily,
eh ka kin zhao!, the hurried rustle of rapid footfalls on the grass, and the angry barking of two dogs running in the direction from which Cexiang's warning came. One dog saw me, and made for me. I turned and ran as quickly as my legs could carry me down the hill. We were separated for about half an hour, and only progressed when the owners of the homestead drove back and took the dogs into the house.
The canal which flanked the Taff Trail, the track which we followed from Brecon, and lined with bumboats of the most colourful sorts. The trail led all the way to Cardiff, a good hundred or so miles away. Somebody mooted the idea of walking all the way back to Cardiff. I would have agreed, if we had a few more days, and some bagloads of food and water with us.
The Welsh countryside was infested with their like! It'll be truly horrendous if sheep were endowed with any more intelligence than they currently are - I can't imagine the amount of mischief they can achieve if they put their minds (supposing they had more brains) and numbers to it. But sheep are really docile creatures, and excellent followers. We had one company-size worth of sheep fall in before us when we were simply standing by the pen looking at them. (Of course we were doing more than just that, we were baa-ing aloud all the way.)
The River Usk, which we followed for a considerable while in our aimless tread through Brecon country.
If you look down at Wales from the top of a hill, you'll see a patchwork of fields stretching as far as the eye can see, very much like a green quilt cover on a very large bed, and a very pretty sight as well!
A farm on the hill where we were pursued by dogs. The path you see in the picture forked somewhere on the horizon, and Gim Hui and I split up to see where each branch led towards. He found that the path led to somewhere more conclusive on his side, and shouted for the rest of us to follow. I took a longer time to catch up with the rest because I was some way forward on the other branch of the fork. But before I could rejoin the group or even see the rest, I heard Cexiang barked (erm, shouted) rather hastily, eh ka kin zhao!, the hurried rustle of rapid footfalls on the grass, and the angry barking of two dogs running in the direction from which Cexiang's warning came. One dog saw me, and made for me. I turned and ran as quickly as my legs could carry me down the hill. We were separated for about half an hour, and only progressed when the owners of the homestead drove back and took the dogs into the house.
The canal which flanked the Taff Trail, the track which we followed from Brecon, and lined with bumboats of the most colourful sorts. The trail led all the way to Cardiff, a good hundred or so miles away. Somebody mooted the idea of walking all the way back to Cardiff. I would have agreed, if we had a few more days, and some bagloads of food and water with us.
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