Coronawalk 51 – Clun to the Cefns

 

Two wise men met at Clun Memorial Hall car park for an impromptu journey. The third one couldn't make it as he'd been placed in Tier 4. Instead they were joined by four batty old women (their words, not mine) – Linda, Beryl, Maggie and guest Jane. They all set forth barely an hour after sunrise with no fixed route in mind, thinking they might send Beryl ahead so that they could follow yonder star(r). But Beryl was having none of it and so they used an ancient Viewranger scroll to guide them.

 

 

Their mission was to seek a newborn, not realising that the lambing season hadn't yet begun. Their task was to deliver gifts, but as Aldi had run out of frankincense and myrrh Linda stepped in with some seriously delicious home-made mutton pies (as a thank you for leading earlier missions over the hills).

 

These were gratefully received and carefully packed away for consumption later. Being a typical product of one of the provinces in the north, where the people speak with a strange dialect, they were to be heated over a fire and served with a fresh topping of a certain variety of bean that had been baked in the juices of tomatoes.

 

 

Little did the company know how arduous the journey would prove, with many obstructions to conquer …...

 

 

…......... and many other untold difficulties to surmount. Fortunately the men of the land knew about these difficulties and with emperor Boris's blessing they dispatched gangs of workers who toiled ceaselessly to facilitate the passage of weary travellers, ensuring that all paths remained open to them.

 

 

The group marched tirelessly over hill and down dale in places unknown to man.

 

 

Occasionally they encountered artefacts of ancient civilisations......

 

….. whose peoples erected prominent markers to help travellers find their way ….......

 

This ancient land had suffered recent rainstorms which made the going underfoot particularly arduous, but the women were made of stern stuff and shrugged off such minor considerations with gay abandon.

Being of educated stock the party read the clues left there by nature, surmising the correct whereabouts of some three gates and two crosses, but signs of a partridge in a pear tree there were none.

 

 

There was great jubilation when a main route was met, knowing this would now take them all the way to their destination. Sadly, though, their excitement was short-lived on discovering that shepherds had been that way first.

However, with the end in sight the plucky group pushed on undeterred, stopping only briefly to nourish themselves with their meagre rations behind a wind-swept bush.

 

 

 

 

The route still had a few obstacles up its sleeve, necessitating frequent diversions to avoid wet feet.

 

As the end point hove into view one of the wise men could stand the womens' talk about knitting no longer and sought solace in a quieter path through the turnips.

 

 

 

 

 

The wise men turned their attention next to the vexed question of why children cannot be persuaded to eat their greens, when sheep have no such qualms.

 

We were on the final leg now with nothing between us and the finish.

 

 

Except water !

 

Linda bares the after-effects of mud wrestling.

Bob tries to get his head round the concept of a young elder growing inside an old alder.

The epic trip lasted nearly 5 hours and covered 8.92 miles and a staggering 1447 feet of desperate climbing.

 

It was a wasted journey, however, as a plague had caused the inn to be closed and the only alternative accommodation was an air B&B in a nearby stable, which had had its licence revoked.