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...

No meat yesterday or Wednesday, but a well filled bap with sausages, bacon, egg and HP Sauce at the Aldford village stores. A pot of tea and off I go again - bit of rain in the skies and again the temperature has plummeted since the nice meander along the Dee by The Meadows to the Iron Bridge of the Duke of Westminster s estate... Knackered at the end. 22 miles and the same old foot pain. £80 for a self catering cottage this evening, but I am polishing off a pasta meal and considering an early night: tomorrow is the Coronation Walk. But where too? I almost went along the Marches Way, but stuck to the Dee Way, which vanished and left me walking through meadows, passed ewes and lambs, bullocks, four very noisy thoroughbreds and knee deep wet grasses mixed with nodding stinging nettles at many styles or gates: I waded through and worried not about that pleasant tingling. *** As I lay down I drifted into sleep and only awoke to the dawn chorus. A good night's sleep. I lingered in The B...

The new market hall. Ravioli and three glasses of wine: Sancerre, Chablis and Rías Baixas, but I must drag myself off to bed. I've some mileage to do tomorrow towards Whitchurch, Wem or Wrexham... All the double yews. The Watling Street... Offa's Dyke. Malvern. Oh the memories? Oh a pizza - yes. I need the calories for the walk? *** But I didn't. And that room is just too warm. Even with both windows open. So it's a new town and I played out. Once again. I am leaving though. Once I am level, not horizontal. Coffee on Northgate @ Café Gate. As Tradeteam start the morning noise rolling barrels into The Coach House Inn. It's not yet 7am. Do I not bother with a heavy breakfast? Porridge would do. Waiting until 7:30, then off at 8am. Over the bridge and away into the wilderness? *** Two coffees, three almonds and one Huel and passing under the Queen's Park Bridge heading towards another me...

Walked the walls and eaten a hearty full English breakfast (vegan). Now it's time to relax and let it work its magic: the house keeper dropped a sheet off - the under floor heating is a bit much and the windows are so large. The building is listed so the heating comes with the territory. *** At 2:30 I drank a Bruges Zot and then a Karma Kola ... Too sweet. Now I am back at Porta and only a Estrella Damm then seek pasta. Handed over The Doll  by Lukáš Tomin. Finished but it's very surreal and it wasn't so compelling. So the girl in Porta from last night, who was interested in it, can have it and decide if it's just me who struggled with it ... otherwise it's another charity book. 

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? 

Mostly coughing up phlegm since Saturday, but I may be sweated it out of me at the flat on Monday evening: the linen was drenched; and now it is fresh once more. What will today bring. I've an idea to go to Whitchurch and walk from there to Chester, the Wirral and perhaps Northern Wales... First thing tomorrow is a visit to the allotment to plant lettuce and find the disappeared hammer... I used it briefly on Saturday, when putting up the frames of canes to grow Tomatoes around, but I am sure I put it back ... But that can't be? I'll check amongst the stiffening strawberries as it might've nestled betwixt in an absent thought while this flu, COVID, fever thing was claiming me for a few days. Yesterday I laid in bed a lot as i felt very cold, but it was cold outside. By the patio door this morning listening to the dawn chorus and the distant murmur of the A1(M) as a few locals gather themselves into their motorized boxes to take them from box A and deliver them to box B ...