Flint to Ffynnonggroyw 4/26/26

 Good morning!

"King Richard II had a faithful Greyhound called Mathe, who followed his master everywhere. It is said that Mathe would go to no one but the king, and that he would greet his master by jumping up and placing his front paws upon Richard's shoulders. Then, a fateful day arrived. Richard’s cousin, Henry Bolingbroke, came to Flint to capture the King and take the crown. As Henry came into the castle, Mathe turned from his master for the first time and instead, warmly greeted the newcomer. When Henry asked what this meant, the King told his cousin: "The greyhound maketh you cheer this day as king of England, to which dignity you will be raised; and I shall be deposed. The greyhound possesses this knowledge naturally; therefore, take him with you. King Richard knew what Mathe’s actions meant. It seems the dog's loyalty was to the crown, rather than to the man who wore it." 

(from the sign)

A painting of King Richard.

Today’s hike turned out to be just over 13 miles, but at least it was varied between trails and pavement.

The sailor’s belt buckle said, "Lest we Forget 1914-1918". In case you have forgotten your history, these years were “The Great War,” or World War I.

Courtaulds was at the heart of Flint for over 70 years, providing work for hundreds of families over several generations. Aber Works opened in 1917, producing rayon.  yarn, an artificial silk made from wood pulp. Soon, the company needed to expand to meet the ever-increasing demand for rayon. The old 'Alkali Works' by Flint Castle was ideal, as it had abundant water supplies, locally mined coal, good transport, and a proven local workforce. It was hard work in the noisy factory where everyone had to learn to lip-read, but there was a tremendous camaraderie. People went straight from school at 14 or 15, and for many, it was a job for life, with a long-service award after 30 years.

The factories have closed, but the area has been sanitized and made into a green space.

I saw many of these gates along the walk, each unique to the area.

Although you cannot see Ireland, the locals call this the Irish Sea.

More scenic trail.

Shades of Outlander, it is a stone circle.  I walked over and stood inside, but I didn’t hear any buzzing, nor did I land in a different century. And I definitely didn’t see Jamie.

A Boat Grave Yard.

The tide was out, so this listing boat must be waiting for high tide. I couldn’t imagine it was part of the graveyard.  It didn’t look decrepit or rusted.

I first thought this was a scallop shell, like the ones on all the Caminos in Spain, but it actually represents Cockles. Cockles have been harvested from the Dee for centuries using a technique that has changed little. The cockle season lasts from July to December and is back-breaking work. The fishermen use a wooden board called a tamp to dislodge the cockles from the beds. They are then scooped up in a riddle with a one-inch mesh so that the small ones drop through.

(from the sign)

Blacksmith's Old Tavern.  You rarely see one with this type of roof anymore.

This church sat up on a hill, and I thought it was so picturesque

I love British humor, or in this case, Welsh humor.  The question is “What happens if you leave your dog poo or "stick and flick"? "Are we too delicate as Americans to stick and flick dog poo?

The sign goes on to say: "Rangers and Volunteers trim and cut along footpaths for you and your 

4-legged friends to enjoy. Please remove your dog's mess so we don't end up covered in it!

THANK YOU!"

Pretty straight to the point.

Today’s destination.  I am sure that it is common pronunciation. Woohoo!  My feet were killing me.

I was feeling a bit snobby about the hotel’s menu. I have already had so many good meals. It was 6:00, and the restaurant was empty.  Not usually a good sign. The male receptionist was also bartending and taking food orders. I thought that a pizza sounded safe. And it was surprisingly excellent, with a thin, crisp crust.  I ordered a pepperoni and jalapeño with a drizzle of honey sriracha.  The sriracha was fire-extinguisher hot, but I couldn’t quit dipping into additional sauce. Practically addictive.

Tomorrow I head for Rhyl, which is where tht I am staying tonight.  My taxi will take me back to Ffynnonggroyw, and I will walk back here. Nice not to have to pack.

So as they say, that is all the news that is fit to print.

Goodnight and God Bless.

Chester to Flint 4/25/26 Addition

 Jeez.  I cannot believe all of the dialogue disappeared. So I am re-doing it.  I started this morning saying Yippee.  About the 11-mile marker, I lost my yippee.  My total for the day was 14.2 - all pavement.  My feet still hurt.

I walked along the Dee River for most of the day.

My first trail marker for the Wales Coast Trail.

A foot marker.  I can just tell that having to redo all the dialogue is not going to be as good.

"At the bottom, it says. Discover 870 miles of spectacular scenery from soaring cliffs to golden sands and traditional coastal towns and villages."

I could see this bridge from miles away.  I didn’t think I was ever going to get there. But I did.

When it was opened in 1887, Hawarden Bridge boasted the largest opening span of any swing bridge in the country. The massive wheels and cogs on the turning gear can still be seen.

If you look closely at the bridge, you will see a bunch of people.  They all had on shirts in support of children with cancer.  What a great cause, but I have one minor issue with the men of this group. If you are a man and you are a little chubby or just plain fat, I don’t want to see your butt crack.  In fact, if you are skinny as a rail.  I don’t want to see your arse.  Pull up your pants.  That air you feel in the back means that your pants have hit the indecent stage. I saw no female butt cracks.

One of the major trail markers for each mini-section of the trail.

I could see this bridge from 10 miles away. No exaggeration.  

This stunning tree looked like it had a thousand carnations on it.

A closer photo of the bridge.

The end of an era: Salmon have been fished from the Deefrom at least Roman times, if not earlier. This photo was taken around 1975, when there were 30 draft licenses and 4 trammel licenses for salmon fishing on the Dee. Draft and trammel are both types of nets, with the boats named after them. The boats in the foreground are draft boats, built locally at Taylor's Boatyard in Chester. Today, there is no commercial salmon fishing in the Dee, although anglers are allowed to catch them upstream as long as they use a rod and reel.

 I first saw the pretty brick house, and then I noticed the car.  It is an old Mercedes.  I have no idea what year it is, but I am sure that is not a factory color.

The end of today’s walk was at Flint Castle. Flint is one of the most historic towns in North Wales, dating back to 1277 when King Edward I commissioned the building of Flint Castle and the adjoining town. Edward chose Flint as the site for the first of his formidable chain of castles along the Welsh coast. It was a day’s march from Chester (I can attest to that day’s march) and could be easily supplied by sea. A natural plinth of rock, jutting out into the River Dee, provided the ideal base. 

A Medalian-style historic marker that says 1271. I met my taxi driver here.  My hotel is miles off the trail, so he drove me to the hotel and will transport me back to the same place in the morning.

My hotel is also a spa.  I was too tired to take advantage of the amenities.

I ordered a tuna and red onion ciabatta melt with "mature cheddar cheese, and sweet dill pickles.” It is all about the bread, and this bread made my stomach sing the hallajuah chorus. I splurged and paid two extra British pounds (about 2.50) for the chunky fries. Crisp on the outside and soft on the inside.  YUM

So after re-doing the blog, I am REALLY beat.  Until tomorrow -

Goodnight and God Bless!

London to Chester 4/23 - 4/24/26

Greetings!  Yesterday, I took the train from London to Chester.  I was on the fast train, so it only took about two and a half hours. Chester was originally in Wales, but now it is in England, right on the border of Wales.

 Last night, I had a British dinner at the Brawn Lodge Pub across the street from my B & B. 

I ordered a brie and cranberry on ciabatta bread.  It was accompanied by rocket lettuce, onions, and a borderline-lock-your-jaws tart dressing.  It actually worked perfectly alongside the sweet cranberry salad.  Everything in England seems to be accompanied by chips (British for chunky fries). 

The Royal Post.

A mysterious door (and prayers) just for Mary P.

Chester is one of the most interesting places I have ever been to. It is a 2,000-year-old city founded as a Roman fortress in AD 76. There was street after street(called rows) of gorgeous Tudor buildings. Most of these Tudor buildings are almost 1000 years old.

According to “Five Great Facts about Chester,” the Eastgate clock only has faces on three sides. A popular landmark of the city center and reportedly the most photographed clock after London’s Big Ben, the Eastgate Clock is a popular photo op for visitors. The tower was modeled on the design of the Cloth Hall in the Belgian city of Ypres. The west side of the tower, which is blank, faces towards Wales, and the legend claims that the snub was related to an old rivalry with the neighboring country. Wales is now a part of Great Britain. While unobserved today, Chester has a medieval law that states that if a Welshman lingers inside the city after sunset, a Cestrian may shoot him with a longbow.

Chester Cathedral is a Church of England cathedral which opened in 1591. The cathedral, formerly the abbey church of a Benedictine monastery, is dedicated to Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary. This is my favorite cathedral/church I have ever visited

The cathedral must have had well over a hundred beautiful stained glass windows. Of course, I had to find Saint James among all the windows depicting the famous and not-so-famous saints.

Looking down the Cathedral towards the high altar.

When I first entered the church, I heard the most beautiful music. A  choir of high school or college-age girls was warming up with "Slipping Through My Fingers” from Mamma Mia, and originally sung by ABBA. What a beautiful song to hear in such amazing acoustics. 

Later, I tried to record an unfamiliar song, but my camera just doesn’t do these beautiful girls’ voices justice.

More giant stained glass windows.

Above the pews for important people, it looks like ornate stone, but it was all carved wood. It could have used a good dusting, but I am sure that is not an easy task.

The high altar was all mosiacs.

According to the sign beside the shrine: "This sacred place at the Shrine of St Werburgh marks the start or finish of the 88-mile Two Saints Way pilgrimage route between Chester and Lichfield.  In medieval times, Chester was a very popular place of pilgrimage because of this shrine and because St John’s Church nearby was believed to hold a piece of the true cross, known as the Holy Road.  Pilgrims traveled from here to Lichfield to visit the shrine of St Chad (I am 100% sure that my nephew, Chad, is not the Saint they are referring to.) St Werburgh and St Chad were key figures who lived at about the same time in the seventh century and 'by their labors' brought about a complete change in the religious and cultural landscape of Mercia - the name for Middle England at that time.  Chester was also a starting point for pilgrims traveling west to the Welsh holy island of Bardsey off the coast of Llyn peninsula in Wales.  Three pilgrimages to Bardsey were considered of equal value to one pilgrimage to Rome.  Now, since the inaugural pilgrimage of the Two Saints Way began here on March 25th, 2012, modern pilgrims are once again walking in their footsteps on a contemporary quest for ancient wisdom."

A surprisingly modern stained glass window.

This tattered flag was hanging in the South Transept of the cathedral. It piqued my intrest so I researched it. It is the actual Union Flag that flew on HMS Chester during the Battle of Jutland in 1917. The ship was hit by seventeen 150mm shells, with twenty-nine men killed and almost fifty others wounded. Later that same year, the flag was brought to the cathedral and laid to rest with full naval honors.

There was a series of these huge, intricate mosaics.  I could have taken photos all day.

This was an actual courtroom, inside the cathedral.  If you look to the right, about midway up, there is a chair just hanging in mid-air.  That seat was for the accused.  At the top left was the judge's seat.

One such case was against George Marsh in 1555.  He was brought before the Court after retention in Lancaster Gaol (jail) following his arrest in 1554 for being a vocal Protestant priest in Catholic England. He was accused of heresy. The court ruled against George, and he was found guilty and sentenced to be burned at the stake on Gallows Hill in Boughton.

As I am working on this blog, a band is at a nearby pub, and the music can be plainly heard, wafting through my window.  The lead singer is belting out “The Gambler” by Kenny Rogers.  How fun.

Back to the blog: I stopped and had a Diet Coke in the lunchroom.  Above the doors was this cartoonish window.  I think it depicts video games.  It was probably 20 feet tall. and proportionally wide

My dream hotel.  If you cannot read it, it is the Chocolate Hotel, and the lobby was filled with Chocolates. YUM!

Lunch was at “The Grill,” in a former church turned restaurant and bar.

I ordered the Oxheart Tomato Tartare, described as having "smoked honey, goat's curd, black olive, and sourdough wafer.” The tomato was filled with finely chopped tomato, onions, herbs, and other stuff.  It was so flavorful. I loved everything about it. It had little dabs of whipped goat cheese and other strange but wonderful things on the plate. I could have this for lunch every day.  And, as expected, it came with chips.   

On my way back to the hotel, this heavy metal-looking guy was playing an AC/DC song on his violin.  I only know it was them because I overheard someone say so. I don’t normally care for their music, but he was extraordinary;  It had a totally different vibe on a violin.

For dinner, I decided to try The Faulkner, another pub.  

I wasn’t starving (no surprise there, as I have been eating like I was already hiking), so I ordered the marinated Campagnola olives and the house hummus. Both had a bit of heat to them, but not fire-engine-hot.  The hummus was topped with chili oil, pomegranate seeds, and crunchy deep-fried garbanzo beans.  Instead of the traditional pita bread, it was served with lightly toasted sourdough bread, which I liked even better. I waddled back to the hotel with strains of Jim Croce as the band played on.

Tomorrow, I start the hike.

Good night and God Bless.