A rebel without a clue.

End of day two. Llangollen and exhausted. Nowhere to stay - well until the final one! The Hand hotel. Room 45 a single with a bath. Breakfast is at 8 and tomorrow is 'only' 15 miles to Corwen or there is the Offa's Dyke National Path up to the coast. Like yesterday I am not sure where I am or where I am going, but I'll keep on? But my knees are stiff and feet are water damaged/logged - last section I put on the sealskinz, but I tend to sweat in them. Just about ready to dump the terrible Salomon hiking boots: I've been compensated so it means nothing and they get water logged just looking at grass... *** Good morning Llangollen. Live yogurt, prunes, banana and alpen. Two coffees and an orange juice. A hangover. Two pints of Old Rosie, many halves and then good wine... Oh well. In Europe I rarely 'play' when waking, however it was the Coronation and I am not the only male adult human with a dycotomy in my nature? It's sunny and blue. I'll be fine once...

Tall grass and stampeding bullock's. Wet wet wet. Chasing them away. Next stop breakfast. Oh and nettles, but it was fun following the path alongside the left bank of the Dee before I was brought away with privacy signage ... Then it's across three wheat fields with tall wet grass. Soaked from the thighs down. But a full English/Welsh in the community café and bread to sop up the tomato sauce and various oils, fats and unions. No coronation - I am too chicken and the locals are getting on with life as normal: The Little Kitchen in Rhosymedre. Waterproof socks and a second attempt at defecation and then it's the final leg towards Llangollen along the canal, over the viaduct/aqueduct etc and hopefully somewhere cheaper than Bangor was last night. But £8 well spent having breakfast where the locals don't care for pageantry either...