Day 27- Wall Under Wye to Monk's Woods 23.5 miles

Used quarry on the edge of Wenlock Ridge

 In the morning I headed straight back up to Wenlock Ridge and stayed there for the next few miles until Much Wenlock. From here it's a long series of lanes and hamlets to the rather muddy Benthall Edge Wood

Iron bridge

before a Iron Bridge. Today, because it was Sunday, the whole place was packed and I felt rather ridiculous in my smelly gear. It was quite a while since I have had a chance to do some laundry. The actual Iron Bridge was lovely, and the town was pretty enough but touristy. I walked along the left bank in the hope a laundromat might materialise. It did not and I continued on through Kemberton farmland and on towards Tong. It was today I really can't to realise just how Christian a county I'm in. Before you see the town you see a church spire. I must pass at least five or six churches daily and they are always old wonderful buildings which, when build, would have towered over the surrounding houses. 

Crossing the River Severn

  In the end my camp tonight was less than ideal. There was nowhere far from people houses, and the best I could do was tuck myself into a dipped corner of a field of crops on the edge of Monk's Woods. I made sure to stay well away from the plants, jamming myself into the lumpiest camp so far. The farm machinery had created great grooves in the soil but it was a warm night and I was shattered. I cooked myself some porridge, which was horrible, and climbed into bed. Twice machine sounds gave me heart attacks and visions of angry farmers but I was left unnoticed and undisturbed. A dog barked at one point and sounded distressed for long enough to get me out of my tent to search for it but I couldn't find it and it soon stopped.

Day 26- Hopton Castle to Wall Under Wye 18 miles

Morning light on camp in Hopton Castle Woods

Haven slimmed today's millage by seven

miles I was much more relaxed with setting off from camp, leaving at 8:30 and finding my way through the maze of bike trails back down onto the plains. Once through

Hopton Castle Woods

you join onto Park lane and follow it for 4 or so miles all the way to the town Craven Arms. Here I stopped and ordered myself a decent cooked breakfast even though it was lunchtime.  Then you join the Shropshire Way along the Wenlock Ridge. Having found a kind person to refill my water in Strefford, just after Craven Arms, I was ready for the last stretch to Wall Under Wye and the fabulous Brook Farm Campsite.

  Wenlock Ridge continues for thirty miles, a forested ridge on the middle of the plains and is lovely if undramatic. More importantly, once you've climbed to reach it, the path is flat and easy.  I reached the camp by six and was greeted by a wonderful couple who made me some tea. We talked for a while before they showed me round their campsite. The
lawn here is fit for Wimbledon, not a daisy or weed in site. The whole place is not only clean and well presented but has a feel of a home and of been loved. The bathrooms are roomy, clean and house strong showers.
There's nothing to complain about. I fell in love with the place and the atmosphere created even though there were only three or four occupants in the field.
 I made friends with two caravan people and having been invited spent a lovely evening with them and their dogs drinking copious amounts of tea.

Day 25- Kington to Hopton Castle Woods 21 miles

  I seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the tent today, the idea of doing the 12 1/2 miles to Knighton was daunting when it should have been an easy jaunt. The rain was part of it,  I woke late to the sound of constant and heavy rain. I didn't want to be wet and instantly felt fed up and listless. I even considered just taking another day off but after only one day waking since my last one?

Rain still falling on the plains

  It took me an hour and a half to pack up and finally leave the place. A quick trot through town, my hood tight around my face in an attempt to keep the rain from my face, and I was back on the trail. It's an instant climb back out of the valley, and through farm land full of sheep. Eating biscuits while gasping for air I finally made it up the slope and onto higher ground's. The rain eased eventually mildly improving my mood.

  I think the main problem was I'd someone psyched myself out, and I struggled through a day no harder than yesterday's. In the end I defended through the golf course to Knighton exhausted and really worried I'd fall. I found a cafe and ordered something to eat while I considered what to do. I could take the day easy, it was only four and rest up for the following day or push through now, ignore the schedule, and walk back my confidence. The second won over and I walked away from Offa's Dyke and north east towards the Pennines. This meant I'd have to wild camp that night but Hopton Castle looked like a possibility seven or or miles away.

View back to Knighton from Holloway Rocks

 The moment I was out of town, wearing my sandals not boots now, I felt better and more energetic. This was fortunate as the climb up Holloway Rocks was quite steep with enough nettles to leave me yelping. The cows seemed to leave me be though, and give new extra speed through their fields. Once I got back to the moors I felt a burst of joy at the freedom of waking with no destination. It was exciting and walking on was struck by the beauty of dusk.

Dusk just before entering Hopton Castle wood

  I entered Hopton Castle woods at ninish hoping to find somewhere I camp. It's a mountain bike forest with dirt tracks everywhere and tall pines looking above. 400 metres high it would be the highest camp so far. In the end I found the perfect campsite, sheltered from the path and soft.

The ground was a foot deep in moss and I predicted a very comfy night. Once set up I climbed straight into bed and tried to go to sleep. The wood was a little intimidating but once the tent was zipped up i felt safe. Comfy yes but on this particular night bloody freezing. I sleep in hour intivals, waking with the shivers but still a great day.

View of camp from the path

Day 24- Hay on Wye to Kington 15 miles

  Eager to be gone from the camp, and back on the road, I woke at half six and left within an hour. I'd attempted to be as quiet as I could but I suspect the tents on either side of me were disturbed.

  Only a few hundred metres from the trail I was soon strolling along the river Wye once more. It really is a lovely river, wide and clean with trees on either side. You're soon climbing away through and towards Little Mountain, the first in a series of moorland hills. From there you go past New Church, another refreshment station for wondering walkers, and up Disgwylfa Hill. You pass through farm lands on the lower grounds but the higher you get the more open the land becomes. The ground here is springy and a pleasure to walk on. Moreover the sun was high and there wasn't a cow in sight.

Hergest Ridge

  The final slope was Hergest Ridge and climbs to 426 metres. I paused on the way up for lunch, eating my humous and bread on the side of the lane. Two walkers passed, one heading for Hay on Wye near the end of the trip while the other was walking my way but simply doing a day walk. I talked briefly to both but made no attempt to accompany them.

Kington

 Because of the early start I decended into Kington before two and took a leisurely look around the place before looking for my campsite. The one I'd chosen was shut so I walked back up town towards Fleece meadow campsite. It's a nice open space close to town but far enough away to be quiet. The owner was away so I headed back into town to find a cafe and WiFi.
  Turned into, in many ways, another day off as I had enough of the day left to wonder around and enjoy myself. I bought reduced roasted chicken breast from the supermarket and made humous, cream cheese, sweet corn and chicken wraps which were a big success. After I found a pub and spent the evening writing up the now horribly out of date blog. The internet was so slow though I only got three days uploaded.

Day 23- Rest Day in Hay on Wye

  Day off, so woke up at seven and enjoyed lounging outside my tent in the sun while I waited for family to arrive. Wrote up the last few days of the hike but as there was no signal couldn't post. Popped into reception to pay for another night but the kind people there said not to bother and allowed me to stay for free. Instantly liked the place the more. The festival stewards are all young, friendly and reading books which I loved. I had struggled to sleep last night as noise had continued till past midnight, but it's a festival so what do I expect? I am looking forward to quiet country campsite again, empty field with only one or two tents.
  Mum, dad and smaller brother rolled up and we wondered round the place. Hay on Wye is a special town made up of second hand bookshops and no chain stores. This means it's brimming with character and wonderful nooks and crannies. I'm afraid I hadn't the energy and saught nothing but food and chairs. Nothing ached but all felt heavy.

  Once they'd gone I bought some supplies for tomorrow and dinner before whizzing off to attend a talk by Levinson Wood at the festival about his walk up the Nile. It was a channel 4 documentary which I greatly enjoyed and I'd partly planned my schedule in order to attend. I started out unsure, I've never been to one of these things, but could feel myself getting excited watching him and feeling fresh enthusiasm come over me. Apart from a pretentious question from a man near me at the end it was exactly what I needed to keep me going.

  Back at camp the wind grew and I took horrible satisfaction as I saw tents collapse while mine stood largely untouched and wonderful. I love my tent, and once inside could hear people admiring it as they passed. It was again a noisy night but I slept in the end and leaving, although quietly, probably woke my fair share.

Day 22- Pandy to Hay on Wye 17 miles

View from Crucorney

 Today was probably the best so far, easy walking, every climb rewarded by a spectacular view. From Pandy it's a rather nasty climb up to the Black Mountains,

Bit of art on the way
up the Beacon Way

Crucorney, via the Beacon Way. It's about 300 metres ascent in a few kilometres with little warm up before hand. As I'd already faced the coastal path and Exmoor I attacked it with vigour... and failed, pausing every ten metres to whine, pant, retie my shoe laces, eat and pretend I've stopped to enjoy the view. Luckily no one seemed near enough to see. The upside is once your up your up and the next 300 metres ascent are over 13 or so miles.

  The moor land here is nothing like the Pennines' boggy good-natured embrace, the path is drained and firm leaving your boots dry and on your feet. The sun was high and it wasn't long before I'd peeled off my gaiters as well as my raincoat. It was just gloriously mindless walking with wild ponies rambling over the landscape. These ponies are wonderful, not at all scared of you but also completely uninterested, at one point as I approached Hay Bluff I had a herd walking around me and I felt like I was on a safari. It was magical.

  The decent down from Hay Bluff was far from magic and hurt every bit of my legs, knees and feet. The new boots were handling well but they hurt my big toes badly, the bone rather than blisters. Still, looking at the poor devils trying to climb the bugger, I was glad I was heading down not up. From here it's a steady decent into Hay on Wye through Tack woods and through farm land.

Looking back up towards Hay Bluff

I reached Hay on Wye ravenous but wondering round found not a chain store in sight, a wonderful thing until all you want is a wrap from Tescos. The place was also heaving because of the festival, Hay on Wye literary Festival and as I headed towards the river felt utterly drained by it and the blazing sun. Across the river there is another festival as well as a massive campsite. It's the most crowded campsite I've ever been in and I disliked it straight away but too tired to even care about paying £10 for the place set up camp.

Hay on Wye appearing bellow

  It was still early and having stuffed myself with the greasiest, mushiest chips ever (which were grose but exactly what I wanted) I searched for a cafe with internet to try to contact my parents. Yet again no signal and I was planning to meet them tomorrow but had yet to fix on a place or time. I also saw my two boys from the other day and stopped to talk to them. Finally a pair of hikers with backpacks heavier than mine.

Day 21- Monmouth to Pandy 16 miles

  Today was a pleasant walk, most of it consisted of clearly marked paths through farmland, you skirt and cross the River Trothy and dip in and out of valleys, through farms and along lanes. Been a bank holiday Monday there were plenty of walkers about, and I encountered one as I left Monmouth. He was also a long distance hiker but on the last few days of the trail with the end in sight. He'd wild camped that night and left early. This was much more my idea of a hiker, scruffy sweet and down to earth.

  As you can see there is only one photo from today since there were few sites to speak of, that said it was a charming day with varied terrain which I was able to walk quickly. My pace was partly due to the two chaps walking about five hundred meters behind me. I'd passed them packing from a wild camp, nodded and thought nothing much more about them. Youngish looking, possibly early 20s. Then while I stopped to talk to a couple on the street I saw them fifty or so metres behind. Determined not to be overtaken I got a pace going which continued all the way to camp, and by doing so left then far behind. I felt childish but ever so proud.
  Reached Pandy, set up camp and took myself to the hotel down the road to recharge batteries and check on the tennis scores, Murray through straight sets.

Day 20 - Sedbury to Monmouth 18 miles

  I woke full of excitement at beginning Offa's dyke and spending five days on a well trodden national trail, hopefully one which keeps me away from overgrown fields and rampaging cows. The path sets out from Chepstow but I joined it just over the river in Sedbury.

Swinging through side alleys at first it begins to climb into the Castwell woods along the River Wye, a constant companion on the walk. The view in the early part is stunning as it looks down on the river and cliffs. Then a dip into Cadora woods national reserve, along the occasional side road, past a secret garden looking allotment and you descend into Lower Redbrook. Here good Offa's Dyke walkers climbs back up before descending into Monmouth. As I was nothing of the sort, and by this point tired, I stopped in a pub to have a drink and then l walked along the river instead.

  I'd expected today to be relitively easy but infact I ended to climbing nearly  1200 metres. The pathls are clear with really

pretty views of the valley and river down below but the ascents are steep and your made to feel them. It was lovely walking through woods and passing other wlalkers and friendly people. It got hot though and I made the mistake of leaving my rain coat on which made me steadily get sweatier and more uncomfortable.

Along the river Wye to Monmouth

  Monmouth is a nice looking towns. Before I reached it I past a massive campsite full of kids and Scout looking games, and soon after a Lidle just before the bridge into the actual town. I made straight for the campsite, keeping my eyes open for possible places to come back to. The town was packed for a Sunday and I couldn't work out why as most of the shops has shut- it didn't occur to be that it was May bank holiday weekend till someone pointed out.
  The campsite reception was empty and looking around I eventually ventured to the nearby house to ask if they could help. A less than charming women came down and took my money, she warmed slightly but customer service was not her strong suit. The pub wasn't wonderful either but camped beside the river with the sun I didn't mind too much.

Day 18/19- Bristol to Chepstow 16 miles

Day 18- Bristol
  No walking just shopping, wonderful company and lots of food. New Keen boots purchased, prey that they are the right ones. I bought them from Cotswolds and the lady who served me was exceptional, spent an hour with me and knew her stuff.

Day 19- Bristol to Chepstow 16 miles

Looking towards Severn Bridge

 While this promised to be quite a ugly day it turned into a lovely one. Farm lands but close to a wealthy town, well maintained and okay gates and stiles. The bridge is also a lovely walk, high and open over the river.

Lady walking her dog far below

Muddy banks

View from Severn Bridge

  The campsite I'd planned to stay in proved a mistake as the house had been sold quite a while back and was no longer a campsite. The family however were lovely and allowed me to stay for nothing, there was even a shower.

Day 17 Portishead to Bristol 10 miles

  Only ten miles today, across the bridge and into northern Bristol to another friend house. Bike lanes again with very little ascent and very little to say. Felt a lot longer and harder than it should buy the first few hours are always there one I whine the most in. The bridge over to Bristol had high rails running the view and by that point your feet are sick of tarmac.

Swash Channel

  One unexpected beauty was Kingsweston House in the middle of Shirehampton Woods in Bristol. Only shielded from the city by a thin layer of trees its a lovely building with the grandeur it must have held back when it was build on acres on land.

Kingweston House

Shirehampton Woods

  The day however started wonderfully with a cooked breakfast at one friends and after a short day time to catch up and hang our with some other friends. Once in Bristol I indulged with another bath, and spent a lovely day and evening with friends.

Day 16- Cheddar to Portishead 18 miles

A frosty early start from Cheddar

  Very little to report today, joined the cycle track called Strawberry Line to Cleveland and didn't get off it for fifteen miles. It's and old

Axbridge

converted train track, too rough for road bikes but great for hybrids or mountain bikes. In the first few miles found a lovely old fashioned looking town called Axbridge where I bought myself breakfast before moving on. Once I reached Portishead I thought I was nearly home only to find it went on for hours ( or at least it felt like it did)

Strawberry Line

  Here I met some of my dearest friends from university and we stopped and had drinks in a pub. Trying to get there on time

Friends with her looking fabulous
with my bag

I'd pushed myself and felt completely done in. I spent a night at a friends house and after they'd bought me a wonderful meal we lay around and watched Wild. A bath and a double bed was as good as a day off, I woke at five with no aches and feeling as if I'd slept in till 12.

Leaving Clevedon

Coastal path just outside Portishead