According to the Offa’s Dyke Path guide book (by Ernie & Kathy Kay & Mark Richards), “This stretch is, in our highly prejudiced eyes, the most enjoyable day’s walk of the whole Path…the route is hilly but not unduly steep, and the views are superb…”

All that they write is true. And, though it rained and blew all last night, this morning we set off with not a raindrop in sight. The clouds rolled and threatened and yet the rain remained at bay.

Nothing went wrong. We didn’t miss a single marker, I hung on to the camera, we had a stellar lunch made up from John at the Arrowbank Lodge and our joints were held in check with multiple doses of ibuprofen.

There was only one problem…we were walking in a constant hurricane.

The wind never stopped. It blew, it rattled, it puffed and it ravaged. We’d take a step and stagger like drunks as the wind blew our feet into new formations. We met a few other walkers and we all shared war stories of how we were being blown asunder, navigating our way on the top of the actual Offa’s Dyke earthwork, like sailors on a sinking, and severely listing, ship.

And yet, here we are; we made it.

We’re tucked into the absolutely gorgeous Milebrook House just outside of Knighton. I feel like I’ve landed at a rich uncle’s house, that is, if I’d ever had a rich uncle, I’m sure this is what his manor would have looked like.

We’ve eaten a decadent meal, drank a lovely Merlot and are tucked into a room with a view of sheep on a hill…making today’s drama already feel like an event that happened to someone else, to people in another land, in a time far, far from here.

And who knows what tomorrow may bring?