. . . AND THEN TO CHESTER!

The thing about B&Bs is that you can never be sure what you’re going to get. We’ve stayed in delightful B&Bs in old cottages and inns, we’ve stayed in clean but soulless rooms in boring streets. We’ve been welcomed and looked after by hosts in a way that one would usually expect only from family or friends, we’ve had courteous and professional greetings, we’ve had relaxed and obliging hosts, we’ve stayed with people who don’t really give a crap. You have to be open minded about what kind of room you will get, what the service will be like, what kind of breakfast you’ll be served. Because the joy of B&Bs is that they’re not hotels, they’re (usually) not chains or franchises, so they’re highly individual and occasionally very idiosyncratic. Of course, there is no excuse for anything being less than adequate, but once you reach the stage of ‘good enough’, it’s almost as if anything goes.



This has very little to do with the particular place we were staying in Hay-on-Wye, which had cheerful and accommodating hosts, an adequate but not-fancy room with a comfy bed, and filling but not-healthy breakfasts (the full breakfast came with fried bread, while orange juice and fried mushrooms were about as fresh as it got – the UK has a very different approach to breakfasts from Australia). Our breakfast on the day we left was spent listening in on the conversation of the two older-middle-aged men sitting on the table behind us – “When I was sailing in the Bahamas in 2004 . . .” and “. . . in Pakistan, we had to all file into this big hall, shake his hand and then take tea with him . . .” and on the subject of walking, “The Ridgeway, you say? Far too much traffic in that part of the world if you ask me!” They were walking Offas Dyke Path.



Anyway, we set off with a little trepidation (after Google maps had led us somewhat astray in Bristol and on the way to Hay-on-Wye), and at first our fears seemed unfounded, and we made good time as the dense fog rose and became low cloud in an otherwise clear sky. But we soon found ourselves driving around in circles (through beautiful countryside, I might add), and I got gradually more and more pissy (I hate when I don’t have a good map!) until we went back to the nearest village and bought a road atlas at the petrol station. One good thing came of all this annoyingness, though – when we finally made it to a highway, we passed a cyclist . . . riding a penny farthing! It was so awesome I made DB stop so it could overtake us and I could take another picture.



We arrived in Chester in good time, and got to see the Lovely F, her partner and her two cute (and very vocal) cattens! Yayyy!





F and her partner, A, plied us with tea and took us on a brief tour of Chester, walking along the old Roman walls, looking at the cathedral from a number of angles, and photographing what is “possibly the second most photographed clock in Britain”. Now that is nothing if not a claim to fame!




But they knew where we REALLY needed to go. The Cheese Shop was fabulous, and we bought 4 cheeses for a picnic – an organic brie, a sheep cheese, http://www.colstonbassettdairy.com/ Colston Bassett stilton (it was too good in Bristol to let it go by!), and Shropshire Blue by the same makers. We also got some bread and fruit and set up a delightful picnic in a quiet park by the river.






We were pretty stuffed by the end of it, but walking the whole 200 metres or something to the other bank cleared some room for an ice cream cone – which we had to get, as we had decided to take one of the pedal boats out onto the river. Hee! It was a lot of fun (possibly mainly because F and A did all the work, while we lounged in the back), and a lovely way to see a little bit more of the town.






I had been slightly concerned when we first arrived because everyone seemed exceedingly well/over-dressed. It all became clear, however, when F let us know that the races were on. That evening when we went out the town was full of women clutching at walls and falling down flights of stairs (this actually happened in our restaurant, accompanied by the terrific smashing of a bottle of champagne at the bottom), and men in pink shirts and pinstrips vomiting in laneways. It was all class. Despite this, everyone was fairly jolly (I guess it was early in the night), and F’s apartment – which hovers on top of an archway over a lane/entryway) was nice and cosy and quiet, and we slept well that night!

HAY-ON-WYE: BOOKS, WALKS, SCENERY

All our pics of Hay-on-Wye and surrounds can be found here. An approximate map of the day's walk is at the end of this post.



We thought we’d get some info about walks around the area from the tourist information centre, which didn’t open until 10am. What to do, what to do? We wandered around the town a bit more, poking into the couple of bookshops that were open and purchasing . . . a few books – some books from the 24hour honesty bookshop that leans and sprawls around the castle at the top of the hill, some books and maps from one of the other wee shops that opened their doors to the Friday morning mist. My best purchases were some prints from Mostly Maps , including a 1926 lithograph map depicting the area around D’s parents house. We bought that for them as a thank-you present for letting us stay.




We returned our first batch of loot to the B&B, and went to tourist info to get some postcards (which I wrote and thought I’d sent, but I found 4 of them today in my room. I’m really sorry Az, Erin, Jak and my work!) and leaflets on walks. We could only find one local walk, though, photocopied badly and selling for 30p. We bought it and proceeded on our merry way!





It turned out to be a lovely stroll around Hay, through fields as the mist cleared, across the border (a little stream) and back into England, through the little village of Cusop, up and down some un-challenging hills with nice views, and back into Hay as the late morning sun shone down.





We had tea and scones at a recommended tea room, where they served us delicious scones and homemade jam (but despite being part of the tea guild, they gave us Twinings tea bags in a pot – disappointing). Feeling somewhat refreshed, we were lured by the siren call of . . . wait for it . . . MORE BOOKSHOPS, and found ourselves being bullied into handing over our lunch money and being forced to carry another bag of tomes back to our B&B. We had promised to not buy TOO many books, although I’m sure anyone who knows us at all is saying “Yeah, right!” about now!



DB took the horrid books back and I got us a picnic lunch from a yummy deli. We took the lunch with us for a wee stroll along the River Wye, following Offa’s Dyke Path (our old friend). It was lovely under the trees in the dappled shade, and lunch was good. I forced DB a bit further, and on the way back the river just looked so inviting I had to go for a paddle. Technically I’m sure we weren’t on a right of way at the time, but I didn’t really care. I just had to put my feet in the water. The paddling only lasted about 2 minutes, though, because it was FREEZING!





Back in Hay-on-Wye we were forced into yet more bookshops (there really are a lot of them, you know!) and again had our money replaced with a bag of BOOKS. What is with that!? We were pretty tired out, so we went back to the B&B for a short kip. Here are two books we DIDN'T get.




I really, really wanted to see the sunset from the hills to the north-west of Hay, and D was really kind and drove us all around (through Clyro and Painscastle), down the narrow roads wedged between hedges, turning and stopping for photos in farm gateways, stopping occasionally in the middle of a tiny lane so I could admire the view.



It was utterly spectacular – the light was honeyed and gorgeous and you could see the Black Mountains and Brecon Beacons national park melting towards the horizon, while in the foreground white sheep grazed in pocket handkerchief parcels of green, and the hills scooped and swept away on every side. It was so, so beautiful, and my eyes started to almost ache from looking so long at it!




If we hadn’t been hungry, I think we would have ended the day with the sunset, but instead we dropped into the local Indian restaurant for some rather forgettable food and a slightly more memorable wonky table of doom (we managed not to spill EVERY dish). Being there really reminded me of the extreme whiteness of the town – and most UK villages I’ve been to in general. It makes me a bit uncomfortable, that kind of hegemony.

And that was our day in Hay-on-Wye. We did a little less walking and a little more book buying than we intended, but it was lovely and satisfying, and I highly recommend it to anyone with an interest in either of those activities!



Our approximate route through the day:

BRISTOL AND HAY-ON-WYE

And so we found ourselves heading to Bristol, after spending a lovely couple of days in London and seeing R for a walk along Regent’s Canal to Camden (where no trousers were bought).





We went via the services, where we bought some . . . food . . . and I insisted on a photograph – mainly this is for you, R!



In Bristol we found our way eventually to Clifton to see I and J. They were most gracious hosts, showing us around their lovely house, and taking us out for a fantastic lunch at Arch Way Deli. LOOK AT THIS PLOUGHMAN’S LUNCH! Om nom nom.




There I also bought a sugar mouse, which I called Sugar Mouse and took with us on an adventure before eating it. Now, I seem to remember a book from my childhood that featured sugar mice, but I cannot for the life of me remember what it was. Any ideas?




Look at the enormous teacup! Actually, it’s a flowerpot.



We walked along the gorge and through more of the town, talking and gossiping and generally having a good time. We looked at the Clifton suspension bridge, and I was pleased to not have to walk over it, as it was very, VERY high. Later on, we drove over it (after paying our 50p or whatever), and I thankfully could not see anything of the view.




But all too soon we had to depart, and cross over into Wales to our destination – Hay-on-Wye. It was evening when we arrived, but we checked in and went for a wander through the very quiet town, guided by our map o’ bookshops. Everything was closed apart from the pubs and the chip shop, so we got some chips and went and ate them sitting under the bridge, watching the fish jump and the sun set.





It was a rather delightful day.