|Ravenswood sits in a perfect amphitheatre.|
|Looking North across to Rhondda|
It is called Ravenswood Farm because the ravens were there before Gus and Carole arrived to turn a Welsh long house into a vibrant home.
Ravenswood sits in a natural amphitheatre of high ground and trees and opens out looking north across the Rhondda.
It was a perfect overnight stay, a delightful evening with tales of sheep farming, wild fowling on Orkney, cattle and land. There were accounts too from Gus about his experiences as a seventeen year-old hitchhiking to Haverfordwest to join the fishing boats on the three-week trip to the fishing grounds of Reykjavík.
Fortified by home brew and red wine I spent a peaceful night, punctuated only once by the dogs, directly below my window, who were swiftly silenced by Gus’s exhortation coming from the other end of the house
Up in good time, for bacon and egg and toast and a second and third cup of coffee, luxuriating in the hospitality of South Glamorgan.