Time to walk: LEJOG Day 26: Severn Bridge to St Briavels

Weather: Sunny, hot and humid

Distance covered today: 25.5km (15.8mi)

Last night's B&B: Travelodge (£35.75)

Cumulative distance: 491.4km (305.3mi)/ % Complete: 27.9%

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 26 (click!)

Right from the off, today’s leg was different. The pedestrian entrance to the bridge was conveniently just meters away from my overnight accommodation, although the day started on a slightly irritating note when I was angered by an assistant in Costa Coffee, who refused to break a £20 note for me as I was trying to pay for a ruinously expensive apple juice. His comment in Estuary English was that he was not a “bleedin’ bank!” I took grave exception to this, and grew even more aggrieved when he tried to palm me off with change in 50p coins! I could see he had the right notes in the till. Voices were raised, mine very much included. Had Veronica been there, my shins would have been puce, but I thought he was right out of order. I had a mind to take his name and report him to higher authority and then I decided life was too short. I persuaded him to give me the proper change in return for a £10 note which I had found in the rummage of my wallet and left for the fresh air as fast as my dignity would allow.

As yesterday, the bridge blew away all negative thoughts. In minutes I was suspended 100ft above the Severn on a beautiful bridge that was literally alive underneath me. I know of course that these bridges are specifically designed to be flexible so that sharp stresses and strains do not lead to component rupture, but I had never felt the movement under my feet in the middle of a suspension bridge this big before. The bridge was in constant motion. As huge articulated lorries growled by fully laden, the bridge would literally shake with displeasure, emitting on occasion a rattle of pain as the pipes traversing the length of the bridge shook in their expansion housings. This sudden intense vibration was superimposed on a gentler and harmonious swaying as the bridge accommodated itself to the pressure of the breeze. It’s hard to believe these structures can stand all this movement and indeed, one fell down in Minnesota a few years ago, so I hoped that someone was keeping a steady eye on the entrails of this one. I could have spent hours out there suspended in space, and I had to drag myself away to start my assault on Offa’s Dyke.

There are no records about when Offa built his dyke. Experts are not even sure why he built the dyke. In fact there are even some doubts about whether it was him who built it, though that does seem now generally to be accepted. The received wisdom is that King Offa of Mercia built the dyke to defend his kingdom from the warlike tribes in Wales and that he built it in the late 8th Century. There had always been trouble between the Welsh and the Anglo-Saxons. The Romans had trouble pacifying the area well before Offa, as did William the Conqueror well after him. The dyke itself is not a single coherent structure, which has led to arguments about whether some sections of the dyke might not be the remains of previous defensive fortifications. The dyke varies in size and scale from as much as 7.6 m (25ft) high with a deep ditch on the western side to no more than a ridge across a field. It also passes over many different types of countryside which is one reason that this particular national trail has become very popular.

En route to the dyke, I entered Wales from the Severn Bridge this morning. I was still trying to determine which County of Wales I was in when all of a sudden I saw a sign on a pub saying that this was the first and last pub in Wales, indicating I was about to re-enter England less than an hour after leaving it. Sure enough I crossed the River Wye and was back in Gloucester!

Shortly afterwards, Offa’s Dyke appeared through an arch on the side of the road with a mysterious message on the back of the arch informing me that this was “Medieval Times Donkey Lane”. I felt I was surrendering my freedom to the national path, but I needn’t have worried. I got lost frequently through a lack of concentration and so my progress was really a sort of zigzag approximation of the dyke. It was very hot and humid which was part of the explanation, but actually I was enjoying the countryside so much, especially the cool woods in the heat, that I wasn’t really looking for the signs. Then, just when I was really getting on top of it, I found that the authorities had closed off a section of the dyke for repairs and I was diverted onto a forest track!

I did find that with the extended climbing and descending, with the heat and humidity, and with the anticipation of seeing Veronica tomorrow, today’s long walk went on a bit. But at least the rain held off. The walk tomorrow will be no less rugged or lengthy and there is the almost certain prospect of heavy rain. At least Veronica will be there to pick up the pieces!

Time to toughen up!