A gentle 14 mile walk in undulating countryside along the Offa’s Dyke Path between Monmouth and Pandy. 

Date walked: 12th  September 2017

Distance: around  14 miles

Map used: OS Explorer OL 14 – Wye Valley and Forest of Dean and OL 13 – Brecon Beacons National Park

Guide used: Offa’s Dyke Path by Mike Dunn. Published by Cicerone  in 2016

*************

One of the downsides of writing about a walk several months  – in this case over 6 months – after I did it is that I feel rather “distanced” (mild pun intended) from the experience.  The images help prompt those dormant memories  – some more than others. But at times (and this is one of those times) where my overarching sense is of a pleasant walk without much to say about it.  So in this report I ask for forbearance if I stuff the post with images and  restrict my comments to a minimum.

Today’s plan involved Anne in a supporting role. Leaving my car in the free car park on the West side of the Monnow Bridge, Anne had kindly agreed to pick me up later by the roadside at Pandy. (An arrangement which proved to have not been well – enough defined, but we’ll come to that in due course. )

For your benefit and my own sense that I should more or less start where I left off, I crossed over the said bridge….

According to Wikipedia (and the Monmouth Civic Society) the only fortified river bridge in Britain with the gate tower standing on the bridge.

….. and then crossed back again.

Turing right after the bridge, I headed for Rockfield passing an Indian that we have eaten at several times but which we gave up on account of them playing bloody horrible “music” very loudly.

In Watery Lane, I spied a BT Openreach Van that had clearly been placed there to annoy me.

I have renewed my campaign to try to secure us Superfast Broadband; watch this space

The Guide promises that this was the last stretch of suburbia passed through until Prestatyn (though I doubt that it will be my last encounter with a BT Openreach Van).

Watery Lane was only slightly damp in a culvert by the side of the road.

It boasted several rather new and striking houses…..

…. before depositing me in open countryside.

The path now climbed gently through several linked woods.

On a warm day as today I was glad to be walking in the deep and peaceful shade of Kings Wood. Goshawks, owls, hawfinches and tree pipits ( sightings claimed by the guide’s author) I saw none.

Neither did I notice the early C19th Monmouth Parish Boundary Stone as I approached Lower Hendre, though I did take note  that those following in my footsteps have the possibility of staying nearby and could seek out what I had missed.

I noted with approval that a local landowner was in the process of recycling a redundant building.

There were pleasant views from the Hendre to the distant Brecon Beacons.

I passed several tidy stashes of black plastic wrapped silage (bio-degradable I am sure).

According to the guide, and confirmed by a small sign, this was near the site of Grace Dieu Abbey, founded in 1226 by John de Monmouth.

If you can’t read the print, it was dissolved in 1536

The path crosses the river Trothy at Abbey Bridge (not noteworthy according to moi) and crosses a field containing some fine oaks.

For the next couple of miles of gently undulating countryside, all that I appeared to have thought picture-worthy were the sheep. Now we like sheep and by now you might reasonably expect me to be able to tell you more about them. All I can say is that there were creamy-faced ones……

….. and black-faced ones with black ears…..

….. and some whose colour scheme were far too complicated to describe.

They all seemed most content.

At Llanvihangel Ystern Llewern (honestly the Welsh do love to make a lot of their place names) the path crosses a minor road, alongside which stands the pretty church of St Michael’s.

It was locked up. It had a notice saying that it was open at weekends from 10.00 to 18.00 from June to August.

The next couple of miles crosses more undulating countryside….

The view here is to the hill known as Sugar Loaf

…  and passes through an orchard belonging to Bulmers. I once photographed the garden of one of the Bulmer Clan – the garden was OK but she was horrid.

No apples were scrumped, honest

I can’t recall if a rather imposing house near here was of Penrhos or Nantyderri’s farms.

The path crosses a minor road at Llantilio Crosseney at the point where there used to be a nice pub called the Hostry Inn…..

Sadly one of the many casualties to us simply not drinking enough as a nation

…. and then crosses the more significant B4233 to enter open fields once more where a finger-post announced that I had a further 7 miles to go – about half way then.

This was easy and uneventful walking across cropped and rolled fields and some with beet.

Approaching White Castle the path had widened to a rough track where a Western Power van had managed to get himself stuck. I couldn’t quite work out how he managed it, but my offer of help was politely refused as he had called for rescue from someone with the ability to pull him out.

A terrible pic I know but I felt a little unkind taking it at all

The path goes around the grounds of White Castle, but I was able to get one decent view of its well-preserved C13th structure (according to the guide, it used to be clothed in a white plaster). Apparently Hitler’s right-hand man, Rudolf Hess was imprisoned nearby and was allowed to paint in the area – perhaps you didn’t want to know that.

There are some very pretty little cottages in this part of Monmouthshire and I thought this was one of the nicest I had passed.

Simple and immensely pleasing

With open views again,  in front of me was the profile of The Skirrid.

The name ‘Skirrid’ is derived from the Welsh ‘Ysgyryd’, which means to shake or tremble.

After crossing the Trothy once more over a narrow and not very pretty bridge….

,and a wade through a field of Sweet Corn…..

….the path arrives on the B4521 at Caggle Street.

After a  couple of hundred metres by this roadside, and passing a converted chapel…

….the path leaves the road and heads north.

This was more grazing than arable land, hence my encounters with some horses…

Brown and white horse

… and cattle.

I’ve got my eye on you

There was also a rather fine ruined farm which quite amazed me as I couldn’t believe that there was an unconverted old barn or farmhouse left un-gentrified in the county. It is called Little Pool Hall

It’s only a matter of time

A mile on from here, the path passes through the little village of Llangattock Lingoed, which boasts a pub…

The Hunters Moon and unknown to me

…. and the modest lime-washed medieval church of St Cadocs.

And it was unlocked!

Apparently I should have paid more attention to the rather faded and ruined image of St George slaying the dragon, so here’s a link to someone else’s pic.

I rather liked the intricately carved wood beam that spans the nave.

If I was overnighting, I think this might be a gem of a place to stay and just to encourage you I noticed that there is The Old Rectory Guest House.

The Skirrid is still quite close by as  the path heads north-westerly…

…..and crosses the Full Brook by way of a sturdy footbridge…..

….. before climbing though a field towards a hamlet called Llanerch.

Do you think this horse is a bit skinny?

From the top of the hill the next day’s walk emerges.

The path descends quite steeply towards the busy A465 which runs between Herford and Abergavenny.

I  arrived  at A 465 at the Lancaster Arms Guest House (good reviews on Tripadvisor)

It must be pretty noisy! There is a pub about half a mile down the road from here.

I was half an hour early for my rendezvous with Anne and I had said to meet at Pandy. Pandy seems to be one of those places that is spread over about a mile (the guide describes it as straggling) and might have been signposted off the road before Anne would get here, so although I was pretty tired by now I decided to walk in the direction she would come from and hope to wave her down if she was about to whizz past me.

I reckon I had walked another mile before I spotted her blue Focus tearing towards me, by which time I was a bit stressed. But Anne was not, so that was OK.  Mind you, I don’t know where the Dyke was!