A rebel without a clue.

So a full day back in England and I slept so well at the flat in a freshly made bed. I'd washed the entirety of my bed linen, including the undersheet protector, prior to going down to the Dee Valley. The sun was shining as I got off the number 7 on Vicar Lane and went and bought some 'essentials' for the flat: banal toilet paper and bland toilet cleaner: both whiter than white. And a nice selection of veg to whip up a nice dinner, which was a halloumi based biriyani - but without the sauce. And I had the official letter about a PIP assessment which neither I nor Glenn can make so I will be postponing and hoping the one postponement doesn't clash with the expected cataract surgery? Why is there only one postponement ... Oh well, I will go along with one eye covered and affect a pirate accent - sounding like I am from Bristol - and hobble on the left foot and stumble on my right knee. Oh the joy of getting passed 'it' if I was ever capable of 'it...

Well that was an interesting, if a bit expensive, five nights in and around the Welsh Marches. It cost close to £60 per night, but I prefer beds to tents now so it must be? It was a weekend of discovery and Wales is firmly on my radar now as another option in my long list of potentials between now and the end of the path I weave? Got back around 6 with a bag of sausage, chips, mushy peas and a can of Dandelion & Burdock (Ben Shaw's) £7.30 from The Frying Pan before making a bed and sleeping some 12 hours, again, creeping down to start the 9th of May. Now I drink a second cup of filter coffee by the back patio listening to the cries of the crows and the remains of the dawn chorus, while our humanity steers into the various roads away from the Coronation bank holiday into work and I consider how quickly I can clear the debts accrued over the rest of spring and summer before I set sail for France come September and Mont Saint Michael... This morning I reconnect with Lola for the r...

Walking back the way I came. Yesterday sun, but today drenched. Just over an hour to recross my steps passed the church, horseshoe weir and giant oak along the towpath then went right along the main road with damp boots. If it breaks I may walk to Chirk... that's unlikely though. Time to catch the bus... On a miserable morning I am on the number 5 towards Chester, to change at Wrexham and head to stand 7 @ 10:45am to Caer/ Chester before the long haul on Northern Rails direct service to Leeds. Last meat related morning. Great breakfast and welcoming tea at the café in Riverbanc after leaving the Sun Inn at 6:30. Hung around until 10 reading the first chapter of Bill Bryson's Neither here nor There ... Back into a book. No traipsing uselessly today. Mentally and physically exhausted! 

Blessings. Sunday and asleep by 1800. Walked back passed The Sun Inn @ Rhewl, the back road route from Carrog, and asked if they could accommodate me a night to which the landlord said 'I'll just ask the wife' and low and behold I've a comfortable double mattress on the floor, two giant Pyrenean Mountain dogs and a snack at nine, when I finally awoke from the snooze ... I was tired I apologised for sleeping ate gratefully, paid £30 and waltzed back up to the best bed so far since Wednesday. But the I was led here. I tried Corwen and the Grouse @ Carrog for accommodation, but Corwen was too expensive and rough around the edges and the sister pub to the Grouse was even more expensive and on the A5 where motorbikes were driving me bonkers. So I'd just about decided to go back to Llangollen and catch a bus, starting the long route back to Leeds already or stay again at the Hand Hotel, but I was wary of pigeons waking me up all through the night - alcohol or no. Sunday I...

Drinking from mountain streams and skipping passed oblivious sheep, fleeing for their lives up wind as I head west with the sun creeping over my left shoulder. With lead in these hills go steady on the water. A little heavy metal killed noone?

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...