Offa's Dyke Walk: brought to you by the letter 'C'

Last month I went on a wonderfully reflective walking holiday along the Offa's Dyke Trail. Herewith some ruminations.

Context
Offa's Dyke is an incomplete earthwork running the length of Wales on the border between England and Wales. It is attributed to the eighth century, Anglo-Saxon king, Offa and was turned into a National Trail in 1971. Both before and since Offa this land has been contested between the Welsh and other opposing groups. The landscape en route is varied; from mountain ranges to rivers, plains and forest. I walked from Kington to Sedbury, with the company of my Mum between Hay and Monmouth, it required walking boots and walking poles.

(The weather was er, interesting - Llanthony)

Conquerors and Chieftains
As previously mentioned the path follows the borderlands between England and Wales, an area that has been contested for millennia. As such there is lots to interest the budding archaeologist from Norman castles to Iron Age hillforts and the remains of Roman settlements. I frequently marched off piste towards mapped inclines in the hope of finding settlements.

Much of the route is rural and there were frequent occasions where the vista could have been Saxon, sheep, forest, stone walls and mountains. No cars, no houses, no tarmac. This meant that the path was not always easy, frequently muddy and occasionally impassable. I was only trying to walk 15 miles on any given day but progress up inclines and through mud was often slow. When I wasn't feeling like Bear Grylls I had increasing sympathy for the Roman soldiers based in this landscape (they had a settlement at Abergavenny they called, 'Gobannium' - great name!). Agricola's comment, 'Britain is cold, wet and difficult to traverse! Take me back to Tunisia, now!' (I paraphrase) seemed rather fitting. There were times a spa would have been very nice.

Castles and Churches as Community
Not only is the trail a beautiful natural path it also brings you into contact with lots of gorgeous old buildings. Some of these buildings are ruins (Llanthony and Tintern Abbeys, Abergavenny Castle, Monmouth Castle) others less so (Chepstow castle) and some still in one piece (St David's Church -1108, Abergavenny Tithe Barn, Hergest Hall).

The more complete buildings and the illustrations at ruins really helped me to think about churches and castles with their attendant communities. The castles and priory communities had gardens, storehouses and fireplaces in evidence for supporting real people doing real life. These were homes for communities of people; places tradesmen created wares, politicians made decisions, women infiltrated and caused scandals. For once the ruins weren't just romantic photo opps, they were also representations of communities passed.

(Llanthony Castle)

Cultural Conquest
The Dyke is in a liminal place, somewhere between England and Wales. It was interesting to compare towns culturally in modern day life.

Kington screamed rural English village. I went to a pub where people spoke like they were the cast of Hot Fuzz, there were roasts a plenty of cosy fires.

Hay on Wye on the other hand was 'just inside Wales' as declared by a deliciously comic partnering between the 'Welcome to Wales' sign and the 'Beware Children. Beware Old People' signpost.

Llanthony was Welsh and very rural, Pandy was still Wales, Abergavenny had a strong Welsh identity. The Welsh dragon was everywhere, even in the priory choir stalls; they had a cwtch coffee shop and all signs were billingual. We heard a lot of Welsh spoken here too.

(Dragon carving, St Mary's Priory, Abergavenny)

Monmouth our next stop by contrast was adamantly English. There was clear overtones of Norman settlement and monied English inhabitants, even the shops Fatface, Joules etc. testified that English culture was truly settled here. This emphasis was further supported by the Habs boarding school also based in the town.

Abergavenny v. Monmouth was an interesting experience.

Chepstow castle was a study in this influence of nationality and fashion on communities in the borderlands. The castle is a very early Norman castle. See downright Mediterranean designs on the oldest part of the castle, reminiscent of the Tower of London and other early Norman fortifications. As design developed so did the castle, accruing round turrets and other architectural design. One room is decked out in Tudor design; it was gaudy to say the least. Other parts of the castle have been left without roofing. The buildings were used as a fortification for some 500 years and developed different emphases as the years passed. But always they had thick walls, doors and barred entry. As I walked the walls of Chepstow castle I realised that thick walls are about more than protecting one king, or magnate, its about the defence of a whole community. It must be a nightmare to preserve a space like this, which has developed over several centuries, in a way that pleases and educates all interests.

(Chepstow Castle, Tudor Room)

(Early Norman Chepstow Castle)

The Tithe Barn at Abergavenny is also worthy of note. Originally built in the 12th century to house tithe from the local community, it still stands today and has seen a number of uses including 17th century theatre and a disco in the 1970's! Each population used the space as seemed best to them. Today the tithe barn is a museum encouraging story-telling and Anglo-Welsh history. Each generation has put its stamp on the building, adding to it and taking away. I wonder what people will think of what we've done in 300 years time to our historical and current buildings.

Part of the path is preserved by English Heritage. Here the bank seemed at its steepest and the paths were well maintained as if the very trees were under control. Given that the purpose of Offa's Dyke is unclear, but one hypothesis is it was a military defence (to keep the Welsh out) created by Welsh slave labour, its interesting it is preserved by 'English heritage'. Given another 1,200 years I wonder what else will be deemed suitable preservation material?

Can-do!
As well as providing lots of pretty historical spaces this holiday gifted me a can-do attitude. Away from the computer screens and phone signal, the challenges were different - how do I outwit a crowd of angry looking cows, how do I climb up this muddy incline with no hand-grips? How do I get to the end of this path when there are gates and tree trunks in the way? It required a different skill set and ingenuity in often unused areas but I really enjoyed my trip in the time machine.

Randolph and Ashmolean.

So last weekend my cousin got married, congratulations Katy and Ahilan. This was a great excuse to be in Oxford and indulge in a luxuriant weekend.

The Randolph Hotel is on Beaumont Street in the centre of Oxford. My sat-nav knew exactly where it was and my own eyes soon attested to its presence! See photo below.  I drove to the entrance and our valet took over from there. Apparently valets are quite normal in America but I have to say it was a first for me; and my Mum definitely cleaned the car before we set off! Inside customer service was prized with concierge and many complimentary services on offer.

Chillin with a paper

 I have to say though, that we did spend time in queues, get delivered twice as many Sunday papers as we’d like and receive a visit from a member of staff ‘checking the mini-bar’. So the room itself cost just over £200 (definitely the most my parents ever spent on a room, me too!) and for that we got a twin room complimentary tea, coffee, hot chocolate (including cream as a milk option!) water (sparkling and still), an ensuite with some small toiletries (and a confident reminder that if I were to make a souvenir of my bath towel I was to enquire as to its sale price at reception!). Our beds were Egyptian cotton and we also had a writing desk, arm chair and footrest, complimentary wifi and of course, a trouser press. We decided in the main to avoid the mini-bar and 24-hour room service (you could even have your herring brought to you in the morning!). Our experience over night actually left me a little disappointed; the room was uncomfortably warm or noisy depending on whether you used the fan or not, the industrial fans outside also made for a noisy evening. I would also say however, that my parent’s room on the other side of the building, overlooking the Ashmolean museum was quite tranquil and beautiful, they had no such complaints. Perhaps it is luck of the draw. And as we were a family of four at a wedding it was so nice not to feel joined at the hip!

Writing my last blog

The hospitality on the other hand was brilliant. The reception venue was very smartly decorated, even the children’s menu had adult portions, our food was very tasty and the customer service was really good; just the right level of interaction and invisibility. I also had the good fortune of visiting the famous ‘Morse Bar’ and watched them make me a Mojito on my room tab (thanks Mum!), it was truly worth the £10.50 rivalling my local London favourites, Sophie’s.

As I mentioned earlier the hotel is across the road from the Ashmolean and remembering the occasion my Anglo-Saxon history lecturer claimed to have stolen the ‘Alfred Jewel’ from the Ashmolean I decided it was time to pay this place a visit. I will make the caveat now that I only had an hour. The first thing that struck me was a resemblance to the British museum; the fusion of old buildings with new architecture that makes the most of the light. Also like the BM it had an orientation space which serves to prepare the visitor for thinking about culture and provides information on the different exhibitions which are organised geographically then chronologically. Interestingly also like the British Museum I thought there was a noticeable lack of African archaeology on display. Plenty of Middle Eastern, Indian and European pieces but no African and a similar bias towards ‘classical archaeology’. The European Early Medieval Room was worth visiting if you are an ASNAC or British antiquarian, plenty of strap ends and beakers, armour and of course the Alfred jewel; it was photographing badly on the day I was there. But as far as I was concerned their visible early Medieval collection was nothing extraordinary; you’d have seen as much in that archaeology seminar with Geake.

Christopher Wren as a young man.

The other place that the Ashmolean reminded me of was the Louvre. My sister and I visited the Louvre in February and I noticed it was full of brightly coloured hallways with European paintings, hung upon the walls for contemplation. The Ashmolean had many themed rooms including one quite large room dedicated entirely to Dutch still life! If I had one complaint about the Ashmolean it would be that it seemed dominated by the interests of earlier Oxford academics; the room full of Russian ceramic and the Dutch still-life came from benefactors who had given large collections as represented by these large rooms. What the Ashmolean did well was partner the contemporary with the ancient. A sculpture exhibition put modern sculptures of Olympic sports up against classical statues in an attempt to get the public thinking about national feeling and the human body. Similarly their exhibition on conservation was inspired; lots of fun and not only for children! The picture below is me playing with a piece that counts the number of touches various materials can take before they fall apart. It was interesting.

Bodies: Ancient and Modern

Please Touch, interactive conservation.

So in conclusion, I enjoyed the bit of Oxford that I saw. Admittedly I didn’t actually go beyond Beaumont Street other than when I drove the car in. Being light blue for a start I wouldn’t have wanted to dirty my shoes...I jest. There were other priorities. I enjoyed my family time and what I saw of Oxford. I might even go back if only to taste more of the Morse Bar menu.