The Green Green Grass of Wales

The sun did indeed follow me to Wales.
The birds are singing and spring has most
definitely sprung.

The tight buds that were around a month ago have opened up and are glorious.

.  

 Monmouth. This is said to be Britain's only surviving medieval bridge  The gateway itself was once fortified, being a strategic river 
crossing.

Later on a roof was added over the turrets, when it was used as a house for a while.








Monmouth is a sleepy little town.  The teenagers looked rather bored, apart from those taking advantage of kayaking and adventuring on the river.

I sat near an elderly lady on the bus. She was reading a paperback entitled "Summer Nights at The Moonlight Hotel"   She looked very contented, wherever it was she had been transported to.

                                                                           

 A potted history of Monmouth was cleverly depicted near the bridge, on a raised circular slab inlaid with ceramic sections, telling the story in words and pictures -  from the Iron Age settlements nearby, to becoming the small celtic kingdom of Archenfield long before the Norman Conquest, to the birthplace of Henry of Monmouth (later to become Henry V), to C S Rolls co-founder of Rolls Royce who was born here and died age 32 in a flying competition.    Monmouth also once had a ship-building industry (until one sank as soon as it was launched) and thriving sheep markets.  The very hard local puddingstone was quarried to make mill stones.  All this and much, much more was depicted in this one very well designed display.

I stayed in a lovely airbnb in Monmouth for 2 nights. My hosts had generously driven half an hour to pick me up in Chepstow as my train didn't arrive in time to get the last bus on a Sunday.  When I left them, they even said to ring them if I got stuck if the local bus didn't turn up - a not uncommon event I believe.  They went out of their way to make sure I had all I needed.  A very pleasant change from my poor experience with bnb in Newcastle which was very cheap but not at all cheerful.
From Monmouth I took the bus (yes it turned up) on to Penallt - more lovely hosts and another pretty house, pictured here front and back.

This was the view from my bedroom window, out across the river valley.     Nothing to be heard except the birdsong. As this place was a bit out of the way, they cooked evening meals for me too.  So I felt very spoilt.   Both in this bnb and the one in Monmouth I have had my own lounge area and my own bathroom.  So plenty of space.           From the very steep field at the rear of the house I could walk down to the river and along the river bank

 The sheep here don't know how lucky they are with their lush green pastures.  If only their Aussie cousins knew what it was like on the other side, they might be just a little jealous.

The bluebells are flowering in the woods.  They always remind me of my mum.  In her younger days, bluebell woodlands were one of her favourite subjects to paint.

Making another short hop on Friday to the convent where June Watts is running her Easter dancing weekend.