Welshpool to Clun
I’m behind again. I finished the last walk in Welshpool and intended to get the train from Leeds, walk 12 miles south in the afternoon, pitch my tent and crack on. Train delays and the England semifinal put these plans in the bin so I got a room in an Inn and watched the match. Then set off yesterday morning with great sadness but national pride. And a South Yorkshire back three to be proud of, including two Blades ex-players and fans. Thank you England.

Anyway my first stop from Welshpool would be Montgomery, a classic Welsh Marches town. I needed to cover 20 miles today with a loaded rucksack so I road-walked up the Severn valley floor to gain time. The Severn is lovely at this stage of its journey.

Montgomery was a very attractive little town. Friendly folk too.

It was warm. Very warm with my back pack and I had a right sweat on. The next 4 mile stage was down to Mellington Hall. Lovely houses on the way and great gardeners. Cop these roses.

At Mellington Hall I reconnected with Offa’s Dyke Path, which I’d left in May, and looked ahead to the seriously steep hills and valleys between there and Clun. My sis, Deb had taken time off and was pitching her tent there. And she would transport this bloody, heavy, sweaty rucksack for four days. Hooray. But then she goes. Boo.
The hills loomed.

I got up the first hill, eventually, and the line of Offa’s Dyke, an 80 mile defence line against the rebellious Welsh, became clear and high and continuous for the rest of the day. 1200 years old and still impressive through woods, down valleys and up hills. Amazing.

The rest of the walk to Clun was up and down, radical slopes and bigger sweats.

After 20 miles I was on my last legs stumbling down a lane when an old dear came up behind me and hooted. My sister!
We marked exactly where she picked me up so she could drop me off there tomorrow. Thanks babe.

The campsite in Clun was great. Deborah had found it and put the tent up and cooked a lovely meal. Clun is a fantastic town. Classy and historic.
