Checkmate

Moving between Knighton and Kington felt like I was making a winning chess move…

Today was the kind of day I signed up for. It was long -23km- with an altitude gain of 762m but doable with lovely views and some cute villages. Some very nice forest too. A bit of barley and oats thrown in and it felt like a delightful rural experience. Thanks to the antibiotics I’m back to my old self and enjoyed it.

There’s been confusion about the switchbacks I mentioned a few days ago. Aussies and Kiwis know switchbacks as zig zags. Welsh switchbacks have neither a zig nor a zag. No steps, no contours, just straight up or down. The best illustration I can give you is if you take a pair of kitchen scissors. The climb is like walking up the inside of the blade and the descent sliding down the other side. Unlike anything I’ve encountered before.

Today we still climbed but it was gradual -ish. The last section was a very steep down though and our feet are hurting tonight. Luckily our hotel had a spa, pool and sauna :)

Importantly we passed the 200km mark today so commemorated it with a sheep poo sign. So far we have climbed 7047m! Everest is 8,800. No wonder my legs are tired.

Kington is a bigger village than Knighton but doesn’t have the same charm. Its bar isn’t as fun either. There are a couple of obnoxious drunks so we have moved to the restaurant.

Last night after I wrote to you we joined the locals in the Horse and Jockey. We had a table by the bar and the punters rotated by for a chat. Lots of great stories and characters. There were 10 men who were there for a birthday. They were all fathers and sons and had caught a train to Knighton that morning, spent the day doing a round of the local bars and ended up at the Horse. The barman started refusing drinks. ‘How do you know I’m drunk’ says punter.
‘Because I’m sober,’ was the very reasonable reply from the barman, met with genial acceptance. Mad panic as they all realized the train was about to leave. Very entertaining. No idea if they made it.

These guys really drink here! (And girls, remembering the Irish hens party yesterday afternoon). I don’t think I saw anyone drunk in Italy or France when we were walking there - other than British tourists. I suspect it’s a problem.

When I walk there is always a song in my head and it reflects the pace. Today it was a lively ‘Call my baby lollipop’ on the flats. For the hills the old favorite returned: the hymn All Through the Night. It’s appeared in my head every walk over the last few years and I have no idea why, but it’s a nice climbing pace. Today I learned it was actually Welsh "Ar Hyd y Nos”.

I’ve never known the lyrics - just the tune so looked it up this evening and discovered it’s actually a beautiful lullaby.

Sleep my child and peace attend thee,
All through the night
Guardian angels God will send thee,
All through the night
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and dale in slumber sleeping,
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,
All through the night.
Angels watching, e'er around thee,
All through the night
Midnight slumber close surround thee,
All through the night
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and dale in slumber sleeping
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,
All through the night.

A combination of Welsh and lullabies makes me feel warm inside.

Hope you are all well in your lives around the world. Speak to you tomorrow. BIG day - bigger than today but we end up in the place I’ve been most looking forward to - Hay on Wye. Famous for its Literary Festival. Yum.

Hill and dale in slumber sleeping.Read more