Monday, 28 June 1943
Log of a Cycle Tour to North Wales, by Roy Spurgeon, with Leslie Lee. 27 June 29 June
Another beautiful day. After, breakfast provided by the hostel at 0800, we went down the hill to the famous Chepstow castle and spent the next hour or two looking over it. Originally built in 1072 by William FitzOsborne, Earl of Hereford and last garrisoned during the Civil Wars when, in 1680, it was stormed and captured by Cromwell, the castle is in fine condition and contains specimens of almost all forms of ancient architecture. The keep is the only part of the original structure still standing, the rest having been rebuilt in the thirteenth century. It stands on the cliffs over-looking the Wye, which at this point records a difference of 48 feet between the level of the water at high and low tides, the largest in the world (according to our guide) with the exception of a river in Nova Scotia. In point of fact, my own information is that the mean difference is 23½ feet and the maximum ever recorded 53½ feet.
At 1115 hours, with the exception of Grif, we set course up the Wye Valley. We climbed out of Chepstow and then followed the course of the Wye through very pretty, well-wooded country, running, curiously enough, downhill nearly all the way to Tintern, which we reached, after stopping for tea amid magnificent scenery at 1215 hours. Here we explored the ruins of the Cistercian Abbey built in 1131 by Walter de Clare which, although it has been unoccupied and uncared for since its monks were driven out by Henry VIII is still recognised as "the most perfect ruin in England". After a thorough inspection, we adjourned to the Anchor Hotel opposite for lunch at 1345 hours. The hotel contained a number of interesting articles in its rooms, the most remarkable being a complete pair of millstones and a cider press.
At 1445 hours, we set off once more, the weather now being almost too hot, with hardly a cloud in the sky. We headed for the city of Monmouth, passing through Llandogo, a small village which provides a beautiful setting when seen from the road before running down into it. It is built on the sides of the hills which slope down to form the Wye Valley, and its houses appear tucked away amongst the trees. We stopped here for a drink of "sparkling special" in a small shop, from whose owner we heard the average Monmouthshire person's view of the Welsh and then continued on again, still on the right bank of the river until, shortly after leaving the village, we followed the road across the river into Gloucestershire. This did not last long, however, for making good progress against a slight Northerly wind, we crossed the Wye into Monmouth. We saw most of the town, but unfortunately missed the old gateway on the bridge over the Monnow, which joins the Wye at this point and gives the city its name.
We had tea at Partridge's at 1640 hours and started off once more. This time we mistook the road and were about halfway up a steep hill on the way to Hereford when we discovered our error. We turned round, with the usual caustic comments from those who were content to leave the map-reading to the more intelligent among us and got on to the right road to Ross. After crossing into Herefordshire, we turned off the main road to the right near Huntsham's Loop, a hairpin bend in the Wye where it curves its way past Symonds Yat, and went through the villages of Whitchurch and Welsh Bicknor. At Kerne, we crossed the Wye once more by a toll bridge and turned off left for the hostel at Mitcheldean. Then the fun really began! We climbed up and up and up, past three real hairpin bends to a height of nearly 700 feet through a magnificent wood which we were almost too tired to appreciate. At the top we stopped to recuperate and consider our position. On the map, we appeared to be only a few miles from the hostel but - what country! We went up and down, over some of the roughest roads I have encountered, constructed in the main from stone which had been worn into very small pieces, so bumpy that going downhill was almost worse than climbing up. Finally, finding ourselves back in Gloucestershire, we crossed a particularly bleak piece of country, turned down a dirt track presumably built to assist in carting away the tree trunks which, incidentally, was marked on our maps as a first class road, and then ran down a relatively civilised road into Mitcheldean and so to the hostel, shortly after 1930 hours, but nevertheless in time for supper.
Here, we were met by Grif, who had pursued an independent course from Chepstow to his home near Lydney. He had then cut across country through the Forest of Dean and reached the hostel before us at about 1645 hours.
The hostel is a large, pleasant place situated in the main street of the village, with a very pleasant warden and looks as if it might at one time have been a kind of coaching inn. It is built surrounding a courtyard, though it does not appear to be very old.
After a good supper, we strolled around the village, which was not very exciting or interesting and then up into the large recreation ground on the slope behind the houses. We did not stay out long, however, because we were aII tired, and not sorry to get to bed.
Total cycling distance for the day 38.4 miles.
Next day: 29 June