We left the hotel at the top of the hill (I think I did mention it was rather a big hill at the end of the day) early in the misty, cold morning. By the time we arrived at the Severn Bridge, it was clearing, and had become a sunny day in Wales.

Wales has moved way up in my estimation. Good bike paths through heavy traffic, then superb cycling to Tintern Abbey, with good road surfaces. Which becomes so very important when cycling for seven hours.

We continued on through the Wye Valley, beautiful and quiet, hills and dales. We saw two lambs bleating as they hurried along a path through a field, with not a sheep in site. Eventually we saw two sheep meandering towards them down the same path, miles (maybe not quite) away. Shattered my image of maternal instinct in the wild, or the domesticated version of the wild. Way later we saw the flock, sunbathing and blissfully unaware of the drama.

We went through Monmouth, notable for the hill leaving but also for apparently being the first Wikipedia town. I don’t even know what means, but there it was on the sign announcing our entry to Monmouth.

Which does also remind me that husband found it quite amusing yesterday that Glastonbury is twinned with a Greek Island and somewhere in Ethiopia.

It was another perfect day (see above photo) and eventually we crossed over into England, Herefordshire, where I have never been. And then we decided one more hill before lunch and found this shop (below) with the signpost for the End to End. I was slightly disappointed at the distance, as we had come over 40 miles from Bristol, but this is pretty much as the crow flies along the major roads. And we’re definitely off the crow’s flight path.

Still, very friendly people who have seen their share of cyclists on this mission. They told us about every hill between there and Hereford, and were spot on. Including the lovely downhill run into Hereford.

In my Archer mind I was convinced that Herefordshire is where Ambridge is set. Husband reminded me (yet again) that Ambridge is a fictional place. Still Herefordshire would fit very well. So many farms, and pretty with rolling hills, accented with small villages.

Until later when it became flat and almost boring, like a mini (or perhaps micro) version of Nebraska. But I think that may have been my mind melting in the last 10 miles of another 70 mile day. Showers have amazing restorative powers.