Walking the Tennant Canal to Aberdulais Falls

It was a calm winter morning, the sky was as blue as the ocean, the slight breeze was as cold as ice and the clouds were as white as snow; I was watching the ducks in the pond that marks the start of the Tennant Canal trail just outside the Port Tennant district of Swansea, they were splashing around in the water dipping their heads and flapping their wings eventually joined by two engaging white swans spreading their wings as if they were waking from a sleepy daze, the golden reeds gently danced in the wind along with the sparrows flying past like fighter jets in the sky, high hills stood in the distance which were overlooking the red bricked housing estate on the other side, I was standing there thinking ‘I bet it is truly splendid to wake up to the view of this pond every morning'.

Passing the social club and the water logged football field I was eventually on my way to Aberdulais Falls in the county of Neath Port Talbot which is known as the ‘County of Waterfalls’, the Tennant Canal is about 8 miles long which takes you from Port Tennant to the junction with Neath Canal at Aberdulais, it makes a very pleasant walk which strengthens your spirit in a tranquil environment, the canal itself was created by George Tennant who wanted to connect the River Neath with the River Tawe, work started on the canal in 1821, boats have not navigated this fascinating waterway since 1934 and yet it has still survived today without too much development, this is because the two canals water is used as a water source for the local industries.

For the first section of the walk you don’t really see the canal as much as I thought you would, instead the path takes you down this very straight asphalt path amongst the small woods of ‘Ashlands’, most of the trees that dot the edges of the path were Silver Birches and Oaks, as it was winter there were no alluring green leaves, most of the trees were bare with all of their leaves turned to brown rotting into the ground; I managed to spot the rail tracks that take cargo to the Kings Docks of Swansea, I gently pushed my way through the brambles and bushes to get a photo of one of the trains sitting there as if it had been forgotten by man, I wasn’t sure what I was doing was illegal or not but I was still in the trees and technically not on the tracks themselves, there were large red containers sitting on the other side of the tracks with graffiti sprawled across them, these containers would have been used to most likely bring coal from the valleys to the docklands.

I carried on following the path, I was met by the water again but it still didn’t really look like a canal, the golden reeds swarmed the water surface, the trees looked like little island of sticks sat in the middle of it all, it was still a wonderful site to see as it was so natural, you would find the birds dancing around in the reeds hidden away from the world, to the birds it must be like traveling through a thick forest with so many places to hide and play.

Ashlands woods started thinning and more open spaces can be seen with the large hills in the distance, I looked up to see the smaller twigs slowly swaying in a breeze I couldn't feel on the ground, there is something about trees that make me feel cheerful, I don’t know what it is but I could sit there underneath a tree and feel totally relaxed, I am not saying that I am a tree hugger but the tree gives you a good connection with yourself and mother nature, when you live in the city where all you see is building after building, road after road it is just nice to sit there with the company of something so old and beautiful.

The water eventually formed into what now looked like a canal with bricks on each side to make sure the banks of the canal don’t erode, I noticed a pile of stable grey bricks at the edge of the canal which let of a slight curve, when I got closer it was only then that I realised it was in fact an old bridge which no longer passes over, I started walking to the top of it to reenact as if I was to walk over the bridge all those years ago.

I carried along the side of the canal, the path itself had turned to gravel and the sky had opened up more as I moved away from the trees, I was the only one on the path which felt astounding, no one really knew I was here and I felt far way from society, the sun was still rising to the right of me, it was the first nice day we have had in weeks after a constant array of storms hitting Britain, the sky was blue with thin clouds above my head, as the canal turned slightly northwards it brought me closer to those once distant hills, they looked magnificent and really brought character to the scene, the hills were brown from the dead shrub which was normal this time of year.

On either side of the path the reeds loomed over me, I slowly brushed my hand along them as I was walking down the path, they rattled to my hand movement before standing firm once again; still in the county of Swansea I had came to my first town outside of the city, it’s called Jersey Marine which is the last settlement before you cross over the county border, as I was walking towards the town you could see some houses and an old tunnel bridge which the boats would of once passed under to the other side, I was watching the buses and the cars making their way over the bridge, when you are on such adventures you tend to forget that the world is still moving without you at a fast pace whilst you have the power to slow down the time to your own pace.

I passed through the town by crossing the bridge to the other side, the gravel path had now disappeared and were replaced by lovely mud and wet grass which was all that I needed after weeks of storms, every footstep I did leaving the town caused the sloshing sound of mud and water being compressed by my feet, the reeds were once again on either side of me situated on top of miles of water, Jersey Marine slowly disappeared in the background and eventually forgotten about as I made my way back into the wild once again, my shoes were covered in mounds of mud and my socks had now gotten slightly wet, the reeds rustled in the breeze that swept through this golden field.

With the canal being closely to the right of me I had eventually made it to my first underpass bridge, the path clung tightly to the wet bricked wall which didn’t give you a lot of space as the majority of it had deep puddles which meant you had to do a balancing act along the very edge of the canal, as I was making my way through I was thinking back to the countless of different people walking under this bridge when the canal was frequently being used.

Leaving the dark damp surroundings of the bridge I was brought back out into the glorious winter sun, I crossed over a metal green bridge to the other side of the canal which had led me to a slightly tougher surface, to the right of me were large gorges which had been cut away by what looked like a quarry, a forest hides most of the features, if I had more time I would of loved to of gone into those forests and stood next to the large crevice, there is something about the old quarries that truly make them an outstanding sight to see even if it is just men cutting into rock.

I was now on the edge of Swansea county slowly coming into the county of Neath Port Talbot, a large industrial land plot emerged out of nowhere dotted with these large ugly white tankers, I was trying to work out what it is they do there, I could hear a roaring sound in the background sounding like lions constantly battling with each other; I had came to a rusted metal bridge that gently lets out a little bit of the canal water into the river below, the gushing sound of the white water raced passed from under my feet, it was a truly unexpected but an awarding site to see.

The Tennant Canal had already brought to me loads of surprises that I didn’t expect to see which is what I love about adventures such as this one, I can see a large road bridge towering above me, when I got closer I could see the blue motorway signs, it was the M4, passing under the motorway you could feel the slight vibrations on the ground, the large white pillars that held up the structure had graffiti all over, when you could hear the engines of a large lorry or a bus passing over you could feel in the air as the sound of metal and tarmac echoed to me below, you could see old cycle tracks swishing around the pillars, this must be one of the hang outs of the local kids well hidden away from everyone and everything.

After you pass under the M4 you now start to see the more beautifully unique older bridges that still pass over the canal today, the rugged brown bricks of the bridges are covered by the small green leaves of Ivy, it’s wonderful to see these bridges that date over a hundred years old are still being used today.

I have now made it into the county of Neath Port Talbot, leaving Swansea behind, even though I was quietly congratulating myself the path at this stage does get tougher which I had to admit I didn’t see coming, any sign of a decent path practically disappears amongst the wet boggy surface of undesirable mud, every step I would take saw me slipping and sliding left to right now and again gripping to the long grass or the metal fencing to stop me falling to my bottom, the path had slowed me right down to a snail pace, the water would splurge itself over my shoes causing little bits of water to drip into my socks, the suction of me lifting my feet into the air was met with a slurping sound, I was starting to become out of breath as it really drains the energy from you, “where has the path gone?” I said between breaths scratching my head with disappointment thinking how easy it was going in the beginning.

I was still slipping, trying to stay leaning to the right so I don’t fall into the canal, many times I had to press my hand into the mud to stop me falling flat on my face.

I came to another old bridge, this one was a lot higher, I looked over and saw nothing but the same old muddy path all the way along, my heart was sinking deeper, I just wanted to get out of this sticky situation I was now in, as I was passing under the bridge I was leaving muddy hand prints on the wall which shows me trying to hold myself up, it wasn’t until I had passed under the bridge that I noticed the large red sign saying ‘High Mud, Path Closed’, there must have been a sign on the other side but I didn’t see it as I was constantly looking onto the floor, I could see the grassy bank onto the road getting closer, I just had to get through more of this mud, I looked at the sign again and looked back on myself “there is no way I am going back that way, only a fool would listen to the law at this moment in time” I muttered to the sign obviously not expecting a response, I had my eyes fixed onto the nice grassy bank and asphalt road.

The happiness of seeing asphalt and green grass was overwhelming, but that good burst of energy didn’t last very long for on the other side of the bridge the path was a total no go zone, a large pile of rubble had been placed down as a ramp for the large diggers to be able to go along the trail without getting wedged on the way in, the whole track itself had rolling marks from the diggers as well, my first step onto this section was a disaster, the mud had swallowed my foot whole all the way up to my shines, I fell forwards I got my other foot in the same sticky situation, the mud was wet, dark and horrible, ‘slurp’, ‘slurp’ was the constant sound I was hearing, looking further down the path I could see it was going to be the same for the next few miles, across the canal up into this large industrial/landfill plot I could see some workmen with their hard helmets on behind the metal railings, I didn’t try and get their attention as I was completely embarrassed about what I had gotten myself into, instead I backtracked on my footprints and climbed out of the path up the rubble; I was now down in the dumps, I looked to my left and right to see nothing but just a road, ahead of me was a silver BMW car parked at a very large recycling centre, I decided the best option would be to take the road, so I headed right following the in the direction of the canal through this wooded forest area, then I came to another two turnings, one was to go right into the landfill site and the other was to go left under a flooded tunnel.

Under the tunnel was a rubbish truck struggling to get through this rather large puddle, one of the men was guiding the truck by walking in front, he must have been the unlucky sod who pulled the short straw, once the truck got out of the puddle and passed me the driver gave me a nod and drove on, smoke was coming out of the exhaust clearing it’s pipes from any unwanted water, “excuse me is it totally flooded this way” I kindly asked the bin man, in his very strong South Walian accent he replied “yes you get very wet tiss way better stick close to wall” so I replied “would it be better to go through this forest behind me to get back down to the canal trail”, “yh that will doo boy” he replied in a very chirpy manner, so I decided to walk through this forest, down this rough gravel trail amongst the densely wooded trees, all for a sudden I could see the surface of the water glistening in the sun light, and miraculously the trail was hard surface again “thank you” I shouted looking up to the sky, it was the boost I needed to carry on with my adventure to Aberdulais Falls.

The path ways were now getting narrower when it came to passing under the bridge, my head was almost horizontal trying to get through and sometimes I would have to arch my back just to be able to pass which was quite a shock considering that I am only 5” 4.

After passing through many interesting historical tunnels I came to one magnificent ruin that once stood proudly in these Lower Neath Valleys, it was the ruin of ‘Neath Abbey’ which is a 12th century monastery once home to many monks who came here from France during the Norman Era, it was originally founded as a daughter house of Savigny in 1130, the abbey was absorbed into the Cistercian order in 1147, the abbey was eventually ravaged by the Welsh uprisings of the 13th century, and eventually dissolved by King Henry VII of England in 1539, at this time the abbey was turned into a large estate. Sir Phillip Hobby was the last occupant of the estate, by 1730 some of the buildings were used for copper smelting, and the rest were abandoned. In the late 18th century, an iron foundry was opened near the abbey ruins.

As I stood there I looked at this magnificent ruin with surprise, I couldn’t believe so much of it had survived over the centuries, the landscape has changed so much over the years but yet this abbey stands as it has stood over time, many of the walls have disappeared but you can still see amazing architecture, including the old gateway which was the entrance into the abbey of the 12th century, the old pillar structures can be seen in what I believe is one of the main halls and the night stairs can still be walked on which lead the monks to their dormitory, though today most of the stairs have crumbled away.

As you walk around the ruin you would notice a much newer 16th century mansion that nowadays looks rugged and weather worn with its grey damp brickwork and caved in roof. As I do with all old buildings I tried to imagine what the abbey would have looked like back in the day with all the monks walking around the old corridors and praying to their Lord.

The mansion is the last sight you see of the abbey as you walk over the old bricked bridge to the other side of the canal, it truly is impressive watching the canal pass by this once iconic building of the South Wales region.

This section of the trail looks a little more used, you would occasionally be passing by dog walkers, joggers, photographers and people using the trail as a short cut, it felt strange being around other people after so many hours of seeing no one, I felt a little jealous that my time alone for some freedom had been stolen from me even though I was saying a friendly hello to everyone I had passed.

The Tennant Canal follows closely to the River Neath which looks like a brown snake making its way through the valley, looking at the two water sources together you could see the strong currents flowing on the River Neath but the Tennant Canal wasn’t moving at all.

As I walked along the path the countryside opens up next to me, for miles I could see field after field, with a main road in the distance taking people into the town of Neath, little streams and the River Neath pushes its way through this agricultural land, after a few minutes walking that open feel disappears when a forest appears to the left of you, the sun shines on the wooden trunk of the trees and let off this slight beam of light, a mini waterfall trickles its way through the forest and into the canal, the air is fresh and I feel exceptionally well after the long walk I had done to get here, the sun had already started setting as in winter we tend to get less day time hours, I needed to get to Aberdulais falls fast before I had to walk back to Neath along the canal in the dark which I didn’t fancy doing.

You have to pass under a few bridges but nothing major as each bridge is of a more modern time so the space to go underneath are a lot larger but unfortunately with a lot more graffiti until finally you come to what is known as Canal Side, Canal side is a quiet little road with what feels like it’s own small community, it is a row of neatly tucked houses sitting on a pot hole filled road, the canal runs along side the grassy bank of the street which is now private property, you would be able to find ducks wobbling their way towards the fence in search for food or bathing in the sun, children happily play on this street kicking a football or splashing in the puddles, their smiles are sprawled across their faces in enjoyment, a black and white dog keeps surveillance of a small red painted brick chapel with his ears pinned up making him look more intimidating.

As you leave Canal Side you come to a bridge that goes over the canal, looking over the bridge you would be able to see a sinking canal boat becoming submerged into the water, the red and green paint slowly fading and the woodwork decaying; this is the end point for the Tennant Canal from here you would be able to observe the lock gates that controls the water level of the canal followed with a disused canal bridge slowly crumbling as time goes by, the bridge consist of small arches that allow the River Neath to violently flow through, if you were to follow this bridge across it would eventually take you to the Neath Canal but unfortunately today water no longer remains to flow on the bridge anymore.

The violent rush of the River Neath is caused by the waterfall which I am about to see, large sticks can be seen being pushed down the river crashing against the grassy banks; follow the small path along the bank of the river, going under the busy A465 until you find some tight steps, from here you would be able to see the white painted walls of the main entrance to Aberdulais Falls.

The attraction is a member of the ‘National Trust’ which is an organisation that runs historical and natural attractions throughout the United Kingdom, after paying five pounds to enter you are able to see the remains of the old tin works that once sat here, a tall chimney which had looked like it was slowly disappearing had been saved by the National Trust to preserve it for people of today to be able to witness, other buildings dotted the attraction with collapsed walls causing gaping holes into the old tin work buildings, but it wasn’t the tin works I had came to see for it was another more natural and more intriguing site, the Aberdulais falls, the waterfall would have had worked alongside with the tin works by using the mighty force of the water to turn the giant metal wheel, slowly being able to produce tin; after walking up some wobbly metal steps up the face of a rock side you could see small trickling water running down causing the face of the rock to be wet.

The thunderous sound of a gushing waterfall was becoming louder, the whole reason why I had taken this small adventure was only seconds away, Aberdulais falls is located on the River Dulais which is a constantly changing river, depending on the rainfall you could witness either a tremendous waterfall or a trickle, as Britain has had a constant thrashing with powerful storms coming across the Atlantic from America this winter the waterfall was going to be an amazing site to see.

The power of the waterfall is strong and fast cascading down the rugged rock causing a tremendous splash, the strong water disturbs the river below where it eventually turns into a small rapid causing a fast flow down the River Dulais, the spray of the water covers my face with cold water, my ears had woken to the new sounds of thunder and crash along with the vision of a faded rainbow as the sun light reflects through the falling water, it was truly a sight worth walking towards.

Aberdulais Falls was created during the ice age when a massive sheet of ice just a little north from here had melted, the original waterfall was a little further south but over time the waterfall had eroded it's way to it's present location.

Aberdulais is a site worth visiting surrounded by a beautiful forest, rugged rock faces and a true sence of how powerful water can be.