Chepstow to Monmouth: LEJoG Day 17

I resumed my journey to John o'Groats with a day walking up the wooded valley of the River Wye.

After a dentist rebuilt my broken tooth, my second Astra Zeneca Covid vaccination, and voting in the Welsh Senedd elections I have resumed my trek to John o'Groats. Large blisters on my heels left by my fast amble from Land's End to Chepstow have not yet fully healed, with large patches of red skin. My wife has provided me with dressings to protect them so I am hoping they continue to improve. A result of walking too many miles, too quickly, I have resolved to be a little less ambitious for the next stage, following the alternate, slower schedule in the Cicerone guidebook rather than the "ironman" daily distances in the main text. Newspapers have warned that accommodation in the UK is rapidly becoming booked up, by people who would normally holiday overseas, but are staying in Britain this year due to all the tests required for international travel to prove you are not suffering from Covid 19 and the associated unpredictable and constantly changing regulations. On my trip up the Cambrian Way last September, between Covid lockdowns one and two, I found it difficult to find any lodgings with vacancies (and many were closed) and most campsites were not accepting tents to avoid sharing bathroom facilities, only caravans and motor homes with their own onboard toilets were allowed. Consequently, to make sure I had somewhere to sleep,  I have made reservations for the next 12 nights as far as the Pennine Way, after which wild camping should be fairly easy. I would not normally book so far ahead as it reduces flexibility and spontaneity. As well as booking guesthouses I also reserved pitches at campsites as some of these are "bookings only", and I needed to make sure they were accepting tents. 

My first day's walk from Chepstow follows the River Wye, its sylvan (i.e. wooded) valley much enjoyed by the poet Wordsworth. To reach the town of Monmouth I could either hike Offa's Dyke Path or the Wye Valley Walk, which follow different routes on opposite sides of the river valley for much of the way. I have hiked some of both routes over the years so today I decided to walk sections I have missed in the past.

I woke to the sound of heavy rain and strong winds. For my first night at Monmouth I had planned to stay at a campsite, however observing the weather as I waited for the train to take me back to Chepstow I had visions of water-logged fields and getting exceedingly muddy as I came and went from my tent, so I booked a Bed & Breakfast. I felt a bit of a "wimp" especially as the weather then improved. 

At Chepstow I went to the start of the Wye Valley Walk which was by the imposing Norman Castle ruins, which guarded the mouth of the river, once an important trade route serving long gone ironworks and other industries. Climbing up the valley side I joined a path through the trees. My route would follow the valley side through woodland for much of the day. Now a vivid green, the trees were dripping with water, carpeted beneath by bluebells and wild garlic, quite a contrast to my earlier trip from Cornwall. Scattered leaves and branches, torn off by high winds overnight, adorned the muddy path. In a few places gaps in the trees allowed picturesque views along the River Wye. A sign, by a short tunnel, informed me that such views had been enjoyed by visitors since the late 18th century.

Path through woods on the valley slopes of the River Wye.

View down to River Wye.

Tintern Abbey was the next ancient ruin I walked by, the outline of the elongated windows a sign of how fine a building it once was. Now a tourist attraction there were a number of places I could have stopped for lunch, but I continued on to the Old Railway Station. My wife and I had stopped there before, many years ago on a trip when we had canoed down the river. Today the river was muddy brown, swirling and swollen by recent rain, the concrete platforms used by fishermen submerged beneath the water.

After a walk through a grass meadow beside the water I crossed the river on a pedestrian bridge attached to the girders of a larger, rotting, old railway bridge and switched to Offa's Dyke Path. Nine years ago I hiked the length of Offa's Dyke Path, but took a shortcut avoiding the section of path just south of Monmouth. To make amends for this omission I decided to walk it today. A long climb up a road and through buttercup fields eventually led to the Kymin, where a monument celebrated naval victories in the period around 1800. I looked for Nelson's name but failed to find it. Then it was all downhill to the town of Monmouth and my rooms at the Queens Head Inn, which dates from the 16th century, although the black and white "tudor" finish on the outside is actually from the 20th century. Much of Monmouth seems pretty old, including the Monnow bridge and gate house over a tributary of the Wye, which has guarded the entrance to the town since the 13th century. 

Monnow Bridge.