Day twenty-one: Monmouth to Pandy

We packed up and said goodbye knowing that I would be seeing Jill, Steve and Edie again very soon.

Steve drove us back in to Monmouth and we headed north through farmers fields, over stiles and through more farmers fields, down country lanes over more stiles and farmers fields. This went on for miles and we didn't see a soul.

We had stupidly forgot to pack a lunch and we were therefore depending on passing by a perfect pub to provide us with refreshments.

When we eventually met up with two hikers coming the other way we asked them about these expected pubs. They had come from Pandy, our destination and were much further along the route than us. They were carry very small day packs and told us that we would not be finding anything open until we got to Pandy.

We decided to ignore this couple. They had obviously by-passed the pubs without noticing. They obviously had delicious lunches contained within their minuscule day packs and we didn't like at all, the way they seemed to relish the fact that we would not be finding any refreshments for the rest of our long journey.

The sounds of the British countryside:





So we continued to fantasize about large cups of tea, cheese and pickle baguettes and packets of crisps.

The first hopeful village that we approached with a PH (public house marked on OS map) had a building on the corner that looked distinctly pub-like but was lacking any signs and looked worryingly like a house. Sure enough as we stood on the corner staring in worried disbelief at this building, the only car of the day came by and confirmed our fears. This village pub had closed. But the lady farmer informed us that there was another, the Hogs head about a mile, no half a mile, just down the road to the right, it looked like a barn, but it was a pub, about 500 m down the road, they might serve a cup of tea, they do functions for weddings etc, etc. A trifle confusing but we consulted the map and the Offa's Dyke path went close to where we assumed she was directing us, so, we set off in pursuit of the Hogs Head.

FYI - You know that you shouldn't get too excited about the promises of a pub and the possibilities that would provide but in reality you can think of nothing else until it is reached.

I also know from experience not to take directions and distances from well meaning locals too seriously as they are invariably wrong but again you desperately want them to be right.

After miles down this road the Hogs Head was of course closed.

We sat by the pub and chewed gloomily on a few dried apricots and dates.

Our next false hope was a shack that looked like it should sell tea but was instead full of souvenirs for the White Castle located next door. Funny thing is, I hadn't even noticed the castle, just the shack. The woman manning this shack said she never sold many souvenirs and that everyone (well the few people who passed by this lonely place) was hoping for tea.

Then why doesn't she dump the souvenirs and sell tea and snacks? I went on about this for the next hour or so.

Just another castle:



Another favorite conversation of ours was the utter stupidity of the guide book Mick had purchased for this trail. In our minds (and therefore all other walkers of this trail) it should have contained useful information on where to purchase tea along the way, accommodation and pubs. The description of the walk should have directed us via major features like castles and churches. Instead the book preferred to guide by flowers and birds....turn right at the dandelion and left at the next buttercup where you may see a rabbit or you may even "see a Heron rising from the river" He confused us by mentioning trickling streams as babbling rivers and waffled on about the history of incredibly boring things. Who bloody cares? What about a cup of tea?

We passed through another village who's fantastic 13th century pub was also closed on Mondays ( and let me just add, unmentioned in the guide).


But all was well in the end, as sixteen miles later (probably my longest day thus far) we ended up at the most fantastic pub called the The Old Pandy. We arrived just as the doors were opening and it had a fantastic bunk house specifically catering to outdoor enthusiasts such as ourselves, great beers, yummy food and a knowledgable publican on the Offa's Dyke trail, called Alan.







The moral of this blog is.... Make sure you take along a packed lunch otherwise your blog could become incredibly boring and fixated on tea and snacks.

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