Howell's Howls

I’m busily writing out a more complete description of yesterday’s journey, but harrowing is probably an apt term. You’ll see soon enough.

I did not end up walking hardly at all today, which is a bit of a shame as I actually feel great. My choices basically were:
1. Walk back up the mountain. Nope, I’m good.
2. Walk along the lanes to Hay-on-Wye. Tempting but also unsafe. English country roads have hedges instead of shoulders. Sidewalks? Whatevah.
3. A ride with the day’s luggage to the Black Lion in Hay.

I chose 3. I got here 11ish, then spent the next hour washing Monmouthshire and Gloucestershire off of my clothes. I then spent about three hours working on the bigger description of yesterday, which I’m doing slightly differently, as you’ll see.

By then my room was ready. I settled in, repacking my back and enjoying the stability of two whole nights in the same place.

After that, I went a-wandering.

This place is awesome… and deadly. I’m proud that I did not by the 450 pound original 1610 map of Gloucestershire that I found. I was in fact tempted. Had Chepstow still been called by its earlier name on that map, I might have succumbed. I have no idea if there is a single extant map that calls Chepstow by its previous name of Striguil. I realized that I’m just now mentioning this, and I admit it is quite an oversight. A previous Earl of Striguil is fairly well known. Hs name was William, William the Marshal. So, yeah, if I could have had a map with that kind of a connection to William, I might have done something stupid.

I did buy two books. One was a Welsh phrasebook, and the other was a humorous tour book of the Offa’s Dyke Path.

Then I went and had Indian, a very disappointing Tikka Masala with hardly any spice at all. Korma Sutra is still King.

For now, I’m going to relax a bit before enjoying the ale casks downstairs for the rest of the night.