June 29, Clun

We made a big decision about how to spend the day.  If we were inveterate walkers, dedicated to not missing one inch of Offa's Dyke Path, henceforth ODP, we would have walked the three miles back to the path because there would have been no other way to get there, and then headed north on a hellish section to reach a place whose name escapes me at the moment, but it is the place where the lovely hotel I wanted to stay does not admit guests on Sundays.  Would you believe?  We could have walked to that unnamed place and then tried to get a taxi to Welshpool, where we had to stay because we could not stay at the no guests on Sunday place, but good luck with that because getting taxis, especially in the middle of nowhere  is really problematic, so we decided to take a circular walk around Clun and get a taxi—which we actually could arrange—to Welshpool later in the day.  Got all that?

 AND while we were having a little something at the Post Card Cafe down by the river, Alex got wind of a garden tour today from 1:00-5:00...the kind of garden tour where a number of people, in this case 15, open their gardens to the public.  We were so pumped for this!

In the morning, I took a walk for a few hours while Alex and Alex rested up.  The walk was absolutely lovely.  It was just hilly enough not to to be boring and went through fields that were mown and fields that were not mown, wooded areas, tracks...some of everything,  One of the highlights was Burry Ditches.  It is mentioned as a walk destination in so many places I cannot tell you.  What is it?  Apparently the remains of an old hill fort and now I cannot even find the photo I took of it.  It is not much more than a little mound with a plaque on it to tell you that this is Burry Ditches.  Of course, hte views were terrific.

Speaking of ruins and sights and sites, what would Clun be without a castle?

What the heck is this about?

Danger abounds in these parts:

                                        

It's always something.

On the way back from my morning stroll, I saw a sign for one of the gardens:

How charming is that!

This garden was not on the tour, but, gosh it is a beauty!

    

While we were waiting to buy out tickets, we saw this biker dude in full leathers  with his Ducati:

And had quite a little chit chat with him.

And we peeked under the bridge:

We did not let this little gremlin spoil the day!

I now turn you over to alexandalexacrossamerica.wordpress.com where you can hear about the delights of our horticultural experience.

 

June 28 Clun

To pronounce Clun, you rhyme it with  with glum, not gloom .  Now you know!  But before a few comments on today's walk, which will still be covered in more detail at alexandalexacrossamerica.wordpress.com  I must return to the 27th and my nightmare walk to Presteigne, you remember, the one with the five mangy mongrel barking canines  What must be documented is the fact that it took two full, entire rolls of toilet paper to sop up the water in my boots!  That is how much water poured in from the overgrowth.  

Today the walk from Knighton to Clun was divided into three parts:  challenging, easy, and deadly dull.

But c'mon, is the scenery gorgeous, or what!

What the danger was was not stated:

BUT just on the other side of the post, it was it DANGER OF DEATH!  DEATH, I tell you!

A sweet rickety bridge:

The somewhat challenging, but not terrible part was the first section, the easy part of the walk was a long farm track.  The deadly dull stretch of some 3.5 miles was the road from Offa's Dyke to Clun.  Seemingly never ending,  Why didn't i listen to a podcast...or two or three?  That was so stupid!

Alex and Alex arrived in Clun just before the Post Card Cafe—one of two cafes in town—closed, so they were able to sit down, have a drink, and something to eat before heading over to the White Horse Hotel (Inn?)  where we were staying.  They loved the place because it had air conditioning.  I did not love the place because it was kind of a dump, only tonight and for the next two nights, we are in an even bigger dump, The Royal Oak in Welshpool.  

Reactions to the terrain and stuff at alexandalexacrossamerica.wordpress.com

 

June 27, Knighton

Oh man, big walk today.  Super tough.  Just shy of eight hours.  Alex and Alex started out at 10:00 or later, which is totally nuts because, as you know, it gets hotter by the hour, but that is how they roll.  It is 6:05 and they have not yet arrived.  

I am leaving a description of the walk, its highs and lows to Alex and Alex, so head over to alexandalexacrossamerica.wordpress.com I am just too plum tuckered out to pass on any more than a few highlights.  It was beautiful, that much I will say.

It did not rain!

Uh-oh!  Deceased sheep.  (I hope it was not Wilbur's Maaaaaaama)

I gotta say, that chair was tempting:

There were no men and there was no work:

Mushrooms that look like golf balls:

Speaking of golf, the guy at the B and B told me that the Kington golf course, which today's route did traverse, is the highest golf course in England.

Yup, like I said, it was a beautiful walk, just too too too many hills and too many miles:

June 26, Presteigne

What a day! I had planned to walk to Presteigne, some ten or so miles, by way of a LDP (long distance Path, although I am not 100% sure that 30 miles is considered a long distance) called Mortimer's Trail, and then veer off at a point where a connecting path, designated by green dots on OS (Ordnance Survey) maps  would reach a road than runs to Presteigne, pronounced Pres-TEEN.  Whereas, Alex and Alex did not want to walk; they took the bus.  The reason for our excursion was to visit the Judges Lodging, a most interesting historical museum, of guess what?  A judge's lodgings, replete with a cell for holding a prisoner awaiting trial.

But first, who was Mortimer and how did he get a trail named after him?  Mortimer was a family, actually, who, in medieval times, owned a lot of land along the Wales-England border, so the trail, from Ludlow to Kington, passes through land they dominated.  There is also a Mortimer Forest and maybe some other Mortimer things, too.

The walk started out just fine:

but then things happened.  First there were paths that were so overgrown, I was SURE I was in the wrong place, but mostly I wasn't.  They were overgrown and full of thorns and thistles and very very very wet.  So wet that you would think I had forded a stream, that is how much water got into my boots.  Then it started to pour, which made everything even wetter, pants soaked to above the knees.  

At one point, a section of path was not overgrown, it was IMPOSSIBLE, to navigate so I climbed over a fence, the top layer of which was barbed wire, and walked in the field parallel to the "path" knowing full well that I would have to recross the barbed wire fence further on, which I did:

What you have to hope is a situation such as this is that the fence will not be too high where you have to cross, because the wire square where you have to get a footing are wobbly, you know, and you are trying not to have to move your hands, so as not to get barbed.

I emerged from this feat pretty much unscathed.

There were metal fences that had to be scaled because the gates would not budge, and then FIVE, FIERCE, MANGY, MONGREL, LOUDLY BARKING DOGS came running toward me.  I screamed, "GO AWAY, GO AWAY, (many many times)  and threatened them with my poles.  Finally, a lady came out, eventually corralled them, and said, "They are just on their territory," and she was right, but I was just on the road!   Anyway, this time, I escaped without being bitten, but it was terrifying.

Eventually I came to the "Permissive Path" that was to lead to the road.  It was blocked by a big, nasty-looking, rusted, impassable iron barrier, that virtually screamed NO!  It didn't have a gate, it never had a gate.  It was gateless, so a detour through a huge field it seemed might lead to some other gate and then I could circle around.  Huge, sloping field, no gate. No gate anywhere.  Back to the inhospitable, nasty barrier. I grit my teeth and climbed over, hoping this was a good decision.  After the dogs, who knows what could be lurking. Not only did it turn out to be a good decision, it actually led to a decent path through woods!  Why that obstruction was there, I will never know.

Never was I happier to see a shoulder-less road!

And, a mile or so down said road,  confirmation that I was where I wanted to be:

About ten minutes shy of town, a red bus zoomed by, indicating that Alex and Alex had arrived!

Alex asserted that The Judges Lodging was the best museum he had ever visited ,so now I send you for an account of that experience to:   alexandalexacrossamerica.wordpress.com

June 25, Kington

 
A busy day!  As the advance team, I left early to explore the Mortimer Trail, a route I/we wanted to take tomorrow to Presteigne.  It looks promising!

A bunch of ovines (OK so it is an adjective here being used as a noun because I cannot resist; you know, ovine/bovine, such great words ) who were lazing on the path until my coming along scared them away.

Upon my return at about 10:15, we headed out to Hergest Gardens, about a mile from our AirB&B.  Up the hill we trudged, and were amply rewarded by much exquisiteness.   I again refer you to alexandalexacrossamerica.wordpress.com for a proper account of the visit, but I cannot resist posting two favorite photos:

After the gardens, where one could happily spend a full day, not just the couple of hours we passed there, we were off to the Small Breed Animal Farm.  Again, the blog of A and A will treat you to the details.  

We were very domestic tonight, I, cooking broccoli, potatoes and onions, while Alex made a lovely salad with excellent produce bought down the street, and Alex doing the clean-up. We are all content!  

June 24, Kington

Leaving Hay, I saw this unusual offering;

The question is: where was the pool in this B and B?

The heat was on big-time today because this was the day I was meeting up with Alex and Alex.  They were coming from London by train and taxi and I from Hay, some 15 miles distant, on foot!  We had planned to meet at about 1:30 in Kington and then to take a taxi to the Westonbury Mill Water Gardens. I walked as fast as I could.  It was a gorgeous walk, well marked, but demanding none the less.  Due to the challenge of the race and the  pressure of arriving on time, I could not dilly dally to take many photos, could I!

But for these guys, yes, they were guys (some were standing up) I had to stop:

A fallen way-marker post:

Field and sky:

A scene

Another scene

The thing about these scenes is that no only are you looking at them, you are within them.

This gate would not be opened; I ended up knocking it down:

A trio of trees on Hergest Ridge

Nothing was going to stop me. I arrived at 12:45:

 Alex and Alex rolled up at 1:40, we got into the taxi that they had taken from Hereford and off we went to the Gardens!

For the garden adventure,  I turn you over to  alexandalexacrossamerica.wordpress.com  Their narrative will be educative and entertaining and their photos excellent.

p.s. Alex just told me that I should not spell style, as in gate with a y, so I won't any more!!

 

June 22 and 23,, Hay-on-Wye

 Perhaps you know or maybe you don't that Hay on Wye is a major book capitol in the world.

Its twin is kind of far away:

    

Hay is a cutsie town that does not have a fruit/vegetable store and only one mediocre grocery a half mile out of town (see expulsion from which in yesterday's post).  But it does have lots of things having to do with books, including this clever book shelf-store sign:

If you would expect a cutsie town to have stores with cutsie names, you would not be disappointed:

      

Ewe would expect this store to specialize in fine, wool items:

But it really didn't.

There are artsy stores:

And a candle shop; no Shabbat candles (but you could make do so long as the tapers burned the requisite number of hours):

I got a good view of all the shoppes because I took a tour about town at about 7:00 a.m.

This was essentially a rest day, because, as I said, I was plum tuckered out by the demands of recent days and even though there are some gorgeous walks around here in the mountains, I just needed to refuel, so I opted for about thirteen miles of easy river walking.

The first river walk might have followed the river, but  you'd never know, except for this little crossing, 

which I think was not the Wye at all but just a little stream.

The walk was mostly through grazing fields.

and fields of growing things like this pea or peapod field:

I nibbled a couple of the peapods and they were quite tasty.  Just a couple!!

As I approached a style, out of nowhere a bunch of cows started toward me:

Then they conferred:

But I was safely on the other side of the style by then.

The second walk WAS by the river.  Even though it was only about 61degrees and quite windy, there were kids playing in the water:

I do feel kind of bad that I did not do part of the ODP walk I skipped—I was thinking of fourteen miles: seven out and seven back, but that would have been all uphill one way and all downhill the other, so the river won out.  By tomorrow, all will be forgotten!