Offas Dyke

It's taken me nearly a month to look at the photos from one of the wettest walking holidays ever.  And they are not bad, taken mainly on the first day walking from Prestatyn and thinking that, with the sun, we had escaped the devastation the rain was causing down south.  But not for long.  Walking when you are actually feeling dreadful due to not being able to take a deep breath, held together by the sticky tape of a combination of duoresp and steroids asthma medication and with fairly zilch energy is not great.

The next day featured rain in stair rods, sheets, driving rain, the sort that soaks your jacket, finds it's way down your neck and into your sleeves.  I lasted 6 of the 8 1/2 miles and baled out when offered a minibus back. I've never done that in my life.  Wales is a beautiful place but oh it was miserable in the rain!  I had a whisky and a hot bath to warm up and spent the next day in Chester drinking coffee and going round the cathedral.  I love sculpture and there is the nicest of modern bronze ones of Jesus and the woman at the well.  I was so struck with this that I spent an age staring at it and enjoying the sound of the water, the cool of the air.  Inside the cathedral, an art installation of panels of scripture and the story of Jonah and the theme of water kept me very happy.  I stuck my head round into the main part of the cathedral but the strong incense kicked me out after 10 minutes, love the smell, love that it's a symbol of prayer, hate what it does to my dodgy lungs.