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.

4 thoughts on “”

  1. Well, when the hedgerow has been there since the 17th century, I guess you can understand the reluctance to tamper too much with it. 🙂

  2. Erich says forget the Indian–try the pubs’ jacket potatoes and such. He found the curry jacket potatoes at the Maltings in York very spicy.

    1. Yeah yeah yeah

      But it’s England and they supposedly have tons of Indian sub-continent cooks.

      Nevertheless, Dad would have thought it was bland.

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