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Pandy to Monmouth – Rolling farmland – another 18 miles

Am I the best looking bloke you’ve ever seen? Come on, tell the truth.

Fair enough. But I’m ok for 58 aren’t I? Yes! Ha ha! I’m 64! You said it, you can’t take it back. Anyway, the campsite reception was shut when I set off this morning so no breakfast for me. In fact I only ate a small tin of mackerel in tomato sauce and only drank water all day. And carrying a rucksack hurt without energy-providing carbohydrates. Anyroad up. I got away at 10am after a long sleep. Still tired though, must be yesterday’s efforts. And scran would help. Starving.

Lovely view as I pushed off. Today was undulating farmland. Pretty but not spectacular.

Well, it’s been a good walk. Great route, a little behind (one day), enjoyed it so far. I missed another turn and shot off on a side road. When my head goes down, because there’s a heavy pack on my back, I don’t look up frequently enough.

This is a typical view on this walk. Lush farmland but not spectacular. Better than Attercliffe.

I still feel iffy walking through fields of cattle or horses. They might hurt me sergeant major.

This is rich country. Lovely churches, castles and houses.

I wasn’t surprised to come across a village previously owned by the Rolls family of Rolls Royce fame. There is a Rolls golf club, bet it’s posh, and some very nice 19th century country houses. I saw a woman in her garden with a pheasant feather in her hair. She seemed like a decent cove so I complimented her on her garden and house. She told me it was owned by the Rolls family who rented them to local people. They fell into financial difficulty and had to sell the houses, but there were sitting tenants in them. Yanks bought them and when the tenants died they sold them on. They bought the family home as well, called Money Laundering House because the owners are never there. The woman had bought her house 20 years ago.

Golf club looked swish as well. It had a sign saying it was serving refreshments until 3.30pm. I don’t think it meant serving me.

In the village I topped up with pure water for a pure life. It tasted good as well.

It was a slog today but I made it in decent time to Monmouth. The campsite backed on to a tributary of the Wye. Nice little site.

Monmouth is quite a historical spot; a bit trendy too with the country set.

I went in the Robin Hood and bumped into a gobby bloke who I’d met in a previous site. He said he was injured and couldn’t finish the last 20 miles. Poor man. Snigger, snigger. A Welshman from Fremantle in Australia. Fremantle’s great, Sydney and everywhere else are crap. Yeah, right.