The Doctor Won't See You Now

In which The Author has a surprise tour

If you've read Trains and Boats and Planes, you'll remember my last excursion in search of the Last of the Time Lords. That impromptu day trip to Barry came about because a friend gave me a tip-off ('on very good authority') that the BBC would be filming Doctor Who that morning. In the event, I failed to find Peter Capaldi or Jenna Coleman, but I made the most of a sunny day and went exploring instead.

This morning I had an email from Geoff E. – oddly enough, the father of my previous 'snout'. He'd heard on the grapevine that the BBC had set up a temporary base at Penderyn, and that the little car park and lay-by were full of location crew. Unfortunately I only picked the email about thirty seconds before the (hourly) bus to the village left Aberdare. I emailed him back, wondering if it was worth making a special trip for what might conceivably be nothing.

He emailed me back, suggesting that they might be filming at St Cynog's Church. After all, they filmed a story ('The Hungry Earth' / 'Cold Blood') at St Gwynno's Church in Llanwynno a few years ago (see Frustrations of a Solitary Walker). The medieval limestone church at Penderyn, high on a hillside above the village and with superb views across the dramatic Brecon Beacons, would indeed be an exciting location. If nothing else, there's a memorial in the graveyard that you definitely don't want to blink near.

I did some work on yet another project to kill time, and jumped on the 1330 bus. I got to Penderyn just after 2.00, jumped off outside the Lamb Hotel, and made a beeline for the church. On the way through the village, I'd seen a host of trucks and vans near the community centre. Since Church Road is quite narrow (single track, pretty much) and there's nowhere else to park up, it seemed likely that they'd had to haul their gear up from there.

It didn't take me long to walk up the hill from the pub. I was expecting to see the entire area taped off, and security people patrolling the perimeter. (Maybe even my old pal Jimmy N., who does some security contracts for BBC Wales.) Instead, the whole place looked like the buffet at the Dippy Bint's wedding reception: not a sausage. I can't say I was particularly surprised, but I was a bit disappointed.

I was, however, pleasantly surprised to find the door of the Red Lion wide open. It's one of those country pubs that keeps odd hours; I can't remember the last time they coincided with a visit to the village. I went in and was greeted by a very pleasant young barbint. I told her I was quite surprised to find the place open, and she told me that they closed at 3.00. I also told why I was there. It was news to her, so I guessed then that the BBC hadn't been anywhere near the top of the hill. I had time for a can of Pepsi, so I warmed myself by the wood-burning stove and admired the work that's been done on the interior.

As well as retaining its traditional layout and cosy atmospheres, the extension to the side and back now contains sizeable dining areas. I didn't look at the menu, but I'm sure that the prospect of a good meal will make the pub even more of a magnet for tourists exploring the southern edge of the national park. If it wasn't so far off the beaten track – and totally inaccessible by public transport in the Twilight Zone – I'd suggest it to friends for a pre-Xmas treat. Never mind, that's South Wales in 2016 for you.

It had started to drizzle when I left the pub, so I headed down Church Road and emerged just above the community centre. There were more trucks in the packed car park, one of which bore the logo of a location catering company. Further along were at least three from a film & tv rigging company, two from a special effects company, and one specialist scaffolding rigging firm. Say what you like about the BBC, but they certainly don't travel light.

I wondered if by any chance they were filming on the old mineral line, so I crossed the road and had a little peek down there. Nothing. I made my way back to the community centre, and spotted my friends Gwyn and Joyce converging on the line of vehicles. It turned out that we had the same idea. They'd decided to go in search of the action, in the hope of including something in Clochdar, our local Welsh language newsletter. We spotted a crew member leaving one of the vehicles, so Joyce buttonholed him and explained why were we lurking around with a camera (in my case) and a tablet (in Gwyn's). He was very cagey about the exact site where they were working, understandably. If word had got out, the valley's schools would have been empty within minutes and the next bus to Penderyn would have looked like an Indian railway carriage. All he said was that were 'on the mountain up on the right' – which didn't give us a lot to go on. Apparently, they'd had use 4 × 4s to get their gear up. That didn't sound very promising.

Gwyn and Joyce decided to stroll back down the mineral line. I offered to send them some photos if I did come across the film crew, and headed towards Cwm Cadlan. I think I've only ever been across Cwm Cadlan at night (see Night Terrors), but I knew it was a bloody long way from the upper Cynon Valley to the reservoir on the Taff. I decided to walk for a mile or so, and if I didn't spot any sign of activity I'd turn back and grab a pint in the Lamb. I set off along the single track road between the fields, aware that I was heading towards grey clouds. A few minutes later it started to rain. I was debating whether or not to press on when I heard a car approaching from behind. I stepped onto the narrow verge to let it pass, and then heard a familiar voice.

'Where are you off, then?'

I looked in through the open window and laughed. It was none other than Huw F.

We'd had a similar idea, to make the most of the weather before winter really sets in. Like me, Huw has exhausted pretty much all the local walks, but he's started exploring further afield. He was just out for a drive; he knew nothing of the BBC presence in the village. When I told him why I was there, he offered to drive around so we could search for the elusive Time Lord. It seemed like a half-decent plan, so I jumped in and we carried on eastwards.

Cwm Cadlan winds through farmland and then climbs towards open moorland, where pylons, flocks of sheep and thick stands of pine trees provide the only signs of contemporary human activity. In spite of this, Huw told me that he'd recently found the remains of some prehistoric roundhouses. I knew they were marked on the OS map, but I'd never been far enough along the road to search for them. You need a car to go exploring off the beaten track, unfortunately, or else you're in for the long haul.

We drove the length of Cwm Cadlan without spotting any sign of extraterrestrial activity, though. Huw suggested that they might be filming on the dam on the reservoir, so we decided to check it out. There was no sign of life there either, so we headed north on to the A470 and then took the A4059 back towards Penderyn. It was still fairly cloudy and grey, but the sun was breaking through to the west and the south. I'd forgotten just what spectacular views you get when you're on that road, so it was a very pleasant change to go across the top for once.

Huw suggested that the BBC might have packed up early because of the weather, which seemed quite plausible. However, when we reached the minor road leading to Ystradfellte, there were a number of vehicles in the lay-by and parked up on the verge. Huw decided to explore that option, in case they were around the village. It was just possible that the heavy presence in Penderyn was just a red herring, after all. He swung the car around in the entrance to a farm, and we hit the minor road.

We hadn't gone far when a car coming uphill blocked our progress along the single track. Huw had to reverse for a couple of hundred metres to a small passing place; meanwhile, another car had come along, so we had to sit tight while they both passed us. A few minutes later, we had to pull in to allow a tractor to pass us. It's actually no wonder Ystradfellte doesn't have a bus service, when you consider what the access roads are like. (See Further Up the River.)

We swung past the church and the New Inn (which took about ten seconds) and took the road towards Pontneddfechan. On the way, I told Huw about Helen from Servini's, and her attempt to set up a dating agency a couple of weeks ago (see A Quick Single). He could fully understand why I never go to the New Inn; if you don't have a car, it makes the Red Lion look like it's in the middle of Piccadilly Circus.

From there we drove to Pontneddfechan. It's only now I've done that journey in a car that I can appreciate the distance I walked on my previous couple of explorations. If nothing else, our outdoor hiking trips keep us fit. We drove through Glynneath to get some petrol, and looped back to Aberdare.

I may have drawn another blank on my quest to find the TARDIS and its crew, but I had some welcome fresh air before the weather breaks, caught up with some old friends, found some possible walks for the spring, and established a new watering hole for a future date. It was much more fun than sitting in the library and listening to the Debating Society, that's for sure.