Wye Valley Walk: A Day in Chepstow, Wales

She Said:

Chepstow Notes -
*"The Gray Country"
*Expecting 2 nights with a Castle view. Got it.
*Simpson's Fish and Chips (yummy - advice from a shopkeeper). Co-op for wine. Happily ate dinner in our room.
*Serendipity - 500 saxophones in Bath, breaking the Guinness Book record; Easter markets in even the tiniest squares in Prague, long colorful ribbons and streamers flying from every tree; Michael Palin signing his books in a small bookstore on a cobbled lane in London. Add Waltz on the Wye to serendipity - bands in period (Victorian) dress performing in the Gazebo in the little park by the river overlooking the filigreed Victorian Bridge; magic shows, Strumpets with Crumpets (!)
*Flag of Wales flying outside our room window - shades of Diana, Princess of Wales' funeral in 1997. *Larger town than anticipated - 3 long "High" streets with shops, 2 grocery stores, B+B's galore and pubs, pubs pubs.
*Why is it that British TV that makes it to the States is always so good (Downton Abbey, Sherlock, Doc Martin, Foyle's War) and British TV here in the UK is horrible? Bad game shows, bad nighttime soaps (though I am a closet fan of Eastenders) and bad news shows?
*I hold out hope for my favorite springtime morning show here - a kooky nest/den cam thing that follows birds and other woodland creatures from mommy's belly through fledging/leaving-home-development. Nature preserve employees around the country have planted tiny camcorders in nesting sites and every morning, the show goes from cam to cam to show the development progress. Believe it or not, it is actually very interesting to watch baby owls have no feathers, then some feathers, have shut eyes, then open eyes, not move, then move and fall down a lot, then move easily and not fall down at all. The "Nature can be Cruel" thing happens every year, too. Some bird sibling in some nest somewhere dies from being pecked to death by a brother or sister who is greedy for food and attention. Now, that's great TV.

Saturday, May 19
Learned an awful lot today.
Walked around and through Chepstow Castle, a huge, hulking ruin built in 1050 and added on to every century since until about 1700. Fantastic stone work and elaborate decorated archways - the best castle around for many hundreds of years. An invite to Chepstow Castle was much coveted. Castle ruins are, well, ruined, so they look dark and gray. But, in their day, castles had finely plastered and brightly painted inside walls. A small section of Chepstow Castle has been restored to its former, colorful beauty and it a thing to behold. The ceilings were painted with the colors of the Earl's crest and even the furniture was covered in a childlike palate or reds, yellows, blues and greens. We spent a couple of hours climbing around the castle ramparts and imagining the lives of the owners. Must have been great, except for the constant marauders, the disease and the dying at about age 30.

Today I also learned more about the Waltz on the Wye Festival. Turns out it is a "SteamPunk" festival. The attendees base their costumes on those worn by the actors in the Will Smith/Kevin Kline/Kenneth Branaugh movie, The Wild, Wild West. Loosely Victorian, with heavy emphasis on gadget accessories. Lots of tarts with bustiers, stripped cotton stockings and black, heeled boots. Guys in pith helmets and full hunting regalia looking very Jumangi-ish. Really quite a spectacle and a delight to see.

Shop windows are beginning to fill with the Queen's Diamond Jubilee memorabilia. Fun to see life-sized cut-outs of Liz in her hat and purse surrounded by every manner of Union Jack-covered tea cup, hot plate, grocery bag, couch pillow, eyeglass case, coffee tray, etc., etc., etc. Should be crazy once we get to London.

Brits are also going a little crazy about the whole Olympic Torch thing. Last night, we watched a boring blow-by-blow account of the flame flying in from Greece in a specially painted British Air jet, transferring to a helicopter and landing at a military airfield out in Cornwall ("Now the flame is 30 min. away; now the flame is 20 min. away, now the flame is..." well, you get the picture.) The Princess Royal, Liz's sister Anne, carried the flame from the helicopter and handed it off to be used to light the actual torch that will be run 8000 miles by over 100 runners to London for the opening ceremonies in July (odd when you think that the distance to London from Cornwall, as the crow flies, is only 150 miles, max. Those wacky Brits!)

We also poked around an ancient Priory today - cool, painted, full-body death masks of the Priory's patrons, his and hers, lying in a place of honor looking semi-real and creepy. The church yard is a cemetery (aren't they all) and the current iteration is Victorian with loads of sarcophagi scattered around. Perfect William Gorey atmosphere with ivy climbing up and around them, slithering through the cracks.

We have decided to eat in again tonight and hoofed over to Tesco (like our Safeway) and bought two giant, ready-made salads. Needed forks so we went to an antique/junk shop we had passed and I scored 2 really nice forks for free (the proprietor liked me and just gave me the forks when I told him what I wanted them for - such a civilized country.)

R took off on a short hike of his own later this afternoon while I lolled around our room and read. Drinking tea now and eating biscuits. Tomorrow we start the Wye Valley Walk. Our own Games begin in earnest.

He Said:
She said so much, what's left for me?
I alone walked from Wales to England this morning, and back... just over a 100 meter bridge.

We spent a day being tourists and looking at the castle, the museum, the bridge, the tidal river, the old ferry from 50 years ago.
We learned about Steampunk.
Steampunk

I'll simply say it with photos.

An old stained glass window in the Castle View Hotel