St Gastyn's church sits on ground that slopes down towards Llangorse Lake, its west tower set well off-centre and built of red sandstone. The tower was raised around 1670; John Loughborough Pearson began a near-total rebuilding in 1848, retaining medieval masonry particularly in the tower. Inside are stencilled walls and texts, a Minton-tile sanctuary floor, marble-shafted east lancets and four bells dated 1674, 1714, 1878 and 1931. The interior has been called "a magnificent essay in Tractarian design."
The houses sit dispersed along the southern shore of the lake, which the Welsh know as Llyn Syfaddan and which is the largest natural lake in South Wales. Brecon is about ten kilometres to the west. From the church the ground falls gently to the water, roughly a hundred metres off and a couple of metres lower, edged with reeds and water meadows.
A public footpath from the church reaches a lakeside bird hide in about ten minutes, though it wants wellingtons in winter or after rain. The hide looks out over reed beds where water rail and great crested grebe work the margins and wildfowl gather through the colder months. The meadows here are good for dragonflies; the scarce blue-tailed damselfly turns up, and the lakeside carries twenty-three plant species uncommon in Wales, white water lily among them.
For a longer walk, the Legends of the Lake trail runs a three-mile circuit of about ninety minutes from the car park on the north side, crossing the Afon Llynfi and passing a crannog viewpoint, a damselfly carving and the hide. From Llangasty Village Hall you can climb the wooded ridge of Allt yr Esgair for views across the lake and the Usk valley.
The food and shops are on the far shore, in Llangors. The Red Lion is run by a local farming family who name their suppliers, including Ty Mawr Farm in Llangasty itself. The menu runs to a Bannau beef burger with cheese, gravy, aioli, pickled gherkins, red onion, slaw and rosemary fries; a crispy curried mushroom burger with pickled chillies and spring-onion chutney; and French toast with Chantilly cream, baked rhubarb and roasted pistachios. Local ales come from the Left Bank Brewery in Llangors, Antur of Crickhowell and Wye Valley, and dogs get water bowls outside and treats behind the bar. The Castle Inn is the village's other pub. Siop Llangors, the community shop and café, opened in 2021 and is kept going by more than fifty volunteers; it sells groceries, locally made pasties and pies, barista coffee and, in summer, soft-scoop ice cream.
On the same side is Llangorse Multi Activity Centre, which offers indoor climbing, caving, abseiling, archery and beginner horse riding, the last across more than twenty-five miles of private bridleway. Getting here is a matter of local lanes south of the lake; Llangors lies on the B4560, which meets the A40 at Bwlch. Abergavenny, about fifteen miles off, is a practical railway station option — nearest depends on whether you go by road or straight line — with trains towards Cardiff, Newport and Manchester. The only bus in the wider area is a Thursday-morning run to Abergavenny and back, so car-free visitors should check the current timetable before travelling.
Out in the water lies Llangorse crannog, the only known crannog in Wales, an artificial island of timber, stone and rushes built around AD 890 for a wealthy household, probably the kings of Brycheiniog. It lasted fewer than thirty years before Æthelflæd of Mercia destroyed it in 916; the mud has since given up jewellery, a silk-embroidered tunic and a fragment of fine embroidered linen. In the 1890s a scheme to raise the lake a hundred feet and pipe it to London came to nothing, and the water became a Site of Special Scientific Interest in 1954.
The village owes its shape to Robert Raikes, who left his family's banking partnership to find a country parish and commissioned Pearson's building programme: the church, a school and the house at Treberfydd. The old rectory is now Llangasty Retreat House, a Christian centre run for quiet rather than casual visitors. Down at the hide on a still day, the reeds settle and a grebe might go on working the margins as if no one had come at all.