The Journey North

It is about halfway through the day and the Shropshire countryside is sliding past my train window: rich pasture extending to hills of deep green woods in the middle distance; fields of gold stubble, their towering haystacks leaning lazily in the corners; and rolling landscapes of green fields and tiny rivers grazed by sheep that seem strangely orientated in a common direction.  It is all quintessentially English, but only just, since the Welsh border cannot be far from where our small train rumbles through the landscape. Occasionally the scene is interrupted as our route takes us through a cutting, trees and shrub and bank shielding us from the view, or we hit signs of suburbia: a road passing underneath us, an astroturf sports field with Sunday league children and supporting parents, or one of the small towns at which we stop, the names of some which I recognise while others are unknown to me.  All this I see as I head north to the Welsh coastal town of Prestatyn and, for me, the start of my walk. 

I have decided to start the route in the north and head south. To me it seemed the natural direction, probably because, for me, I will be walking towards home.  However, it seems from the guide book I purchased that walking from south to north is considered the 'norm'.  I’m pretty sure it will make no difference to the overall effort given that the route starts and finishes at sea level, although for me an element of mental gymnastics will be required, reversing the stages in the book and, more significantly, any useful information contained in each stage write-up.  It has also led to my long journey north on the train: three changes becoming four because of a train cancellation, plenty of waiting around for connections and the promise of a bus replacement for the last hour of the journey.  Despite these issues however, I hope to be in Prestatyn in good time for a beer and a relaxed evening meal before tomorrow’s start.

The Offa's Dyke Path

The Offa’s Dyke Path is a 177 mile long-distance footpath – and a recognised National Trail - that runs from the north Wales coast to the Severn Estuary in the south.  Created in 1971, it is one of the longest National Trails in the country and roughly follows the English Welsh border.  It draws its name from the Offa’s Dyke earthworks, reputedly built by order of the Anglo Saxon King Offa (King of Mercia from AD757 to 796), which it passes close to for some length along its route.

The Offa’s Dyke earthworks is said to have followed the entire length of the region between Anglian Mercia and the Welsh Kingdom of Powys although it was probably not a mutually agreed boundary between the two kingdoms. It traverses low ground, hills and rivers with a ditch on the western (Welsh) side and the removed soil piled into a bank on the Mercian side.  To some this design suggests that the Mercians constructed it as some sort of defensive barrier as does the fact that it provides uninterrupted views from Mercia into Wales, achieved by being routed to the west of any areas of high ground that could have blocked the view.  More modern archaeological studies however suggest that the building of the Dyke may have begun much earlier, at the beginning of the fifth century, the period that marked the latter part of Roman rule in Britain, and that it was shorter in length than originally thought.

Offa's Dyke Path

For a while now I have had walking Offa’s Dyke at the back of my mind; it is accessible to me living as I do in the west of England and the archaeology and history of the structure spark my interest.  Also, although I have seen a fair bit of Wales through walking and climbing in the mountains and hills in north, mid and south Wales, and I have cycled the length of the country from Holyhead to the south on a few occasions, the Welsh Marches – that border region between England and Wales known for its beauty and its sometimes bloody history – are a place I have yet to spend time in.  A recent funeral of a relatively young work colleague proved a catalyst; this man had achieved much personally and professionally and I found the service and the stories that were told inspiring.  I realised I needed to ‘seize the day’, make better use of the opportunities I have, and turn more of my plans into action.  Consequently, not long after, I dragged out my walking gear, checked the weather on an eleven day window that presented itself in late September and sorted a train journey to Prestatyn on the north Wales coast from where I would begin my walk.