"I've just suddenly wondered what the ones who have gone before would make of what's happening. What would they say if they could see those new poles marching over the hill? What would they make of just touching a switch and seeing the light come on?"

To the rest of the country, electricity at the flick of a switch is, of course, nothing remarkable. For Mrs Llewellyn and her neighbours in the remote Nedd valley it was a cause for rejoicing yesterday. At 3pm this valley in the Brecon Beacons - a place of thundering waterfalls, riverside caves and thick forest where wild boar are bred - was hooked up to mains electricity for the first time.

The 16 souls who live in four farmhouses in the valley are the last community in England and Wales to have survived on the unreliable power supplied by generators and the flickering light of candles and lamps.

Over the past two months almost three miles of power line has been built over the hills which divide the Nedd valley from the village of Ystradfellte.

Yesterday afternoon the first of the farmhouses was finally connected, and the others will follow in the next few days. The valley dwellers celebrated with champagne and mince pies as they emerged blinking from the dark ages and began to shrug off the rather unkind label of the place that time forgot.

At Berthlywd farm, Mrs Llewellyn, 72, contemplated not having to feel for her torch if she needed to pop to the bathroom in the night, and watching television whenever she fancied. "It will be much more convenient than it is now."

Until 1972 Berthlywd was lit by candles or Tilleys, portable lamps which burned oil or paraffin. The Llewellyns, like their neighbours, used to go to bed soon after dark, not wanting to waste lamp fuel. Then came the first generators, which provided a comforting hum and reasonably reliable, if quite pricey, power.

The children were allowed to watch television on special occasions such as Christmas Day - the rest of the time they entertained themselves with board games, cards and their schoolbooks. The television was only switched on in the day at harvest time when the weather forecast was crucial. Once the "genny" as it was called was turned off at night, that was it - no more light save for torches until the morning.

Mrs Llewellyn's daughter, Jean, 41, said: "It didn't seem odd. It was just what we were used to. We used to play outside and visit the other farms rather than watching television. I think it made the community a closer one." They were never scared of the dark - although Mrs Llewellyn's 11 grandchildren, who have grown up with electricity, did get frightened when the generator went off.

A little further up the valley at Blaennedd-Isaf farm, Daisy Lewis is looking forward to being able to run her washing machine and boil a kettle at the same time. Until now it has been one or the other when the lights are on.

"That can be a bit of a nuisance," said Mrs Lewis. "I came here from London nearly 50 years ago and it was a bit strange not having electricity, but you soon get used to it. But I don't think we'll get rid of the generator - you never know what's going to happen, do you?"

In the kitchen of Duffryn Nedd farm, Eifion Davies, 36, father of Wyn, six, and Gethin, three, blamed the Brecon Beacon national park for the delay in getting mains electricity to the valley. The park has been reluctant to agree to power lines being strung across the unspoiled hilltop. "It's about time we had mains power. I can't wait until it comes and the kids can have computers on whenever they want. It'll also be nice that the hum of the generator will go and we'll have peace at night. We might even be able to hear the river, which would be lovely."