Chester around 7am

Good morning Chester. The edge of the civilised world. The Roman's built their Deva opposite the Welsh/Druid/Briton madness to feel safe? And that's where my feet will be leading me tomorrow morning - to be unsafe ...

I was going to Basel, but I didn't, instead of climbing out of the 13:42 to Victoria Station in Manchester I bought another leg of the journey to Chester, leaving Stockport and Greater Manchester for another occasion.

At 1630 I checked in to The Coach House Inn, at five I devoured a plate of black beans, salad, quinoa etc from Big Lola's in the new market hall. At 5:30 I was sipping vino de Jerez in Portas below the Northgate arch and then I wandered around Chester, crossing the river and back over to The Rows. It's a stunning city and it's English through and through. A frontier ... Beyond the river it's banditry and hooliganism? Perhaps I should be scared of Wales as I go to be scalped by woad washed barbarians?