Offa-long the Dyke #5: Kington to Knighton

The last day of the hike. I wake up feeling a bit tired (nothing to do with the red wine, of course) and trip down the precipitous stairs to Adam’s excellent breakfast, eaten amid the trays and drawers and crates of coloured threads and yarns and dyes, next to the sewing machine. The electronic spinning wheel is somewhere in the corner.

We walk away from the ODP down into cloudy Kington because the Friday market is on. The market ladies organise to fill our water bottles from the corner bakery where for the first time we meet a lot of other hikers, probably because the sandwiches are home made and the coffee is actually good! 

Offa-long the Dyke #1: getting there

“I reckon this is going to be the next big thing in multi-day hiking.”

“It’s a great way to see a part of the country we don’t know.”

“It will be pretty easy walking every day.”

“You’ll love it.”

This was the quadruple mantra I kept repeating to my sister before we hit the Offa’s Dyke Path (aka ODP) this August - while keeping my fingers crossed that it would all work out.

As my marriage unravelled, my limited remaining energy went on stitching together four days of hiking along the Marches of the Welsh/English border with my dear sister novice-hiker Caro. I planned how we would get in and out of the hike, our accommodation each night, getting our big bags from place to place while we walked, and where we would walk. I was also in charge of map reading and navigation - a big challenge for someone who struggles to find North/South, left/right (and even up/down on a bad day).