April 28: We fall in love with Wales.

Today the weather acted as though someone up there turned on a flashlight whenever we got outside.  A dew raindrops fell, but we were able to see the fabulous sites of Raglan Castle and Tintern Abbey in glorious sunshine.  We began by visiting Monmouth and the Shire Museum, then went on to Clearwell Caves, which is an active iron mine.  There we enjoyed a cream tea, and now Kathleen know why Alanna and I rave about them.  From there we went to the beautiful ruin of Raglan Castle, then off, via Chepstow, to Tintern Abbey.  After thoroughly appreciating another ruin, we went for a walk, first along the river Wye, and then up onto part of the Offa’s Dyke trail.  We drove the scenic Wye River Valley, and then came home.  Many of today’s suggestions came from Clive, our landlord, and when we asked where to go for dinner, he suggested The Royal Exchange, and as with all of his suggestions, it was terrific.  Kathleen burned through her camera battery by Raglan Castle, and then we shared mine, so I set a new photo record today with over 400 pictures.  We’ll try for a selection representative selection.

Kathleen woke up at first light, and was really good about not waking me up.  She read every pamphlet in the cottage, and learned about closing the sky light shade, so she might get more sleep tonight!  She went for a walk, but the sheep on the property started bleating when she walked by, so in the interests of not waking everyone in the neighbourhood, she retreated indoors.

Clive suggested Monmouth as an example of an interesting historic town, and that was our first stop on our circle tour.  We had good roads and beautiful views as we drove to Monmouth, through Corse, and then Staunton, each proudly proclaiming it had been a Chartist town since 1848.  We knew that the Shire Hall had a display on the Chartists, and I hate it when I can’t remember what something was, so off we went to Monmouth.  We bypassed the Nelson Museum, and Kathleen managed to park on the high street – only 30 minutes allowed.  The Shire Hall Museum was free to enter, and it certainly was well seeing, even if only for a short time. 

We first saw the historic court room, looking like the court room from many British television shows.  

 There were long steep steps down to the holding cells, and it was only too easy to imagine a poor prisoner coming up the long dark stairs into what was essentially a theater, literally in “the docks” to answer charges – or face a summary sentence.  

Down below were the holding cells, which had no chairs, and were not wide enough to lie down in.  The prisoners would have had to sit on the floor or stand through the hours until their trial.  Kathleen assures me that they would not have served any kind of sentence there, and indeed we found a tunnel which led back to a jail somewhere. . .

On the main floor is a very small display with five display cases with the history of Monmouth – prehistoric, Roman – what are becoming “the usual”.  There was also an excellent little multimedia presentation explaining the Chartist Movement.  I would explain it all, but the same video and explanations can be found on the Shire Hall Webpage, found here:  http://www.shirehallmonmouth.org.uk  

 Shire Hall was the scene of one of the most significant trials in British history when, in 1839-40, John Frost and his colleagues were tried for their involvement in the Chartist Riots in Newport.  They were found guilty and sentences to death.  They were posthumously pardoned, and their reforms, a vote for each man, reforms to the poor laws, etc. have since become part of British democracy.  

We raced back to the car, enjoying the pretty little town and Kathleen’s even prettier parking job, and drove around the corner – to the large public pay parking lot which we seem to find in every town.   

We paused for a moment to admire the historic bridge and church, and to get a picture of Kathleen wearing the shirt that Lee gave her in Wales.  She was cold, but the sky above her seemed designed for pictures!

 We drove through the grounds of the immense Monmouth School, and turned down into the Wye Valley to Clearwell Caves in the Forest of Dean.  Again we were in for a real education.  By now Kathleen and I have a system for these museums.  I like to read everything, and Kathleen wants to see as much as possible without information overload, so although I was weaning myself off guidebook purchases while travelling, I now by them everywhere we go, and now we see as much as possible and I read into the night!

Clearwell is an active mine, and has been in active production since the Bronze Age.  It has always been most important as a source of ochre, the pigment that results from iron, with iron for smelting being secondary.  A group of primary students was going through at the same time as we were, and so we got an extra bit of education about child labour as we went along.  A narrow 2 foot wide rail line was used to bring out the ore, and some of the caverns were enormous – but some passageways were narrow.  The mine is actually over 600 feet deep, but we only went about 100 ft., or 31 metres, below the level of the ground.

Underground lake

After the mines, we ate a wonderful cream tea, which are staple tourist fare in this area:  a proper cup of tea, and a fruit scone with butter, jam, and clotted cream.  There are no calories in this treat.  (Maybe a couple.)

We couldn’t believe the beauty of everything we passed.  We had a bit of a scare when we passed a pile of grey rocks that had tumbled onto the road, while passing another car, and just before we got to them, one of the rocks stood up.  They were sheep, and we practically sheared them with the car!  At one point we decided to climb a hill we had read about to get a view.  The view was spectacular, but it came at the cost of a single lane road, and we had to pull over into every bypass we came to.  On one of them, the passenger side tire slipped off the road and into a rut – it was fine, but we spent a good minute waiting for the mail truck to get out of the way before we knew we weren’t stuck.  We got a bit further up the road to find people parked on both sides, and our courage failed us.  We didn’t know what lay beyond the curve ahead, and weren’t sure we could make it between the cars, so Kathleen backed down a good 200 feet.  Twice she needed to get into bypasses to let cars go by.  I got out to direct her, but had to leap for my life when a taxi went by – into stinging nettles, which seem the most common plant in these parts.  However, the view was breathtaking, and I am sure that pictures won’t do it justice, but here are our pictures of Monmouth from above.

Raglan Castle is everything a ruined castle should be, and reminded me a lot of a picture book the kids had about two mice, a prince and a princess, who go into a castle and are attacked by a dragon.  It has a moat, a latrine disgustingly close to the well, lots of towers, a bridge, and lots of fireplaces in weird places.

We headed off to Tintern Abbey, and because I missed my turn, we went by way of Chepstow.  Tintern is an even more evocative ruin, with its empty windows and “bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.”  As we wandered through what had been the nave, Kathleen told me about an episode of the Vicar of Dibley, where the vicar replaces a stained glass window with plain glass, as God’s world is the most beautiful thing there is, and the story was certainly apropos here.

 

After we visited the Abbey (and we closed the place!) we decided to walk along the Wye River.  We went through the village of Tintern, then over a bridge, and along the river.  We decided to try a little section of Offa’s Dyke Trail, and walked up to the ridge on the hills above.  Offa’s Dyke is a mix of natural elements, in this case, the Wye River and some hills, and artificial hills built to mark the border of the King of Mercia.  We got to see both kinds of sections today, and the path was spectacular with wildflowers.

We continued our drive along the Wye River Valley, stopping every once in a while so that I could see what Kathleen was gasping at, and drove into the lovely town of Ross-on-Wye.  We picked up a few groceries, and then headed home after an abortive attempt to get dinner in a pub that was obviously hosting some sort of men’s group.

Arriving about 7:30, and we were worried that we were too late for a pub dinner, but Clive told us to try The Royal Exchange just down the road, and there we started planning our trip to Oxford in the morning.  A couple at the next table heard us talking, and gave us a ton of useful information, and we chatted away until the barman came in and closed the curtains and turned off half the lights.

Kathleen is snoring quietly in her room, and tomorrow is Oxford day – the Ashmolean Museum and a walking tour!  I wish I had time to watch an episode of Lewis before turning in.  Good night!