And so to the Gwent Levels for a walkette with my friend, Liz, and Cwtch the reliable collie, whom you can trust to walk off lead and come back when called in a relatively reliable fashion. An altogether more biddable dog than her predecessor, who, although we miss him horribly, could have his tricky moments.
Our first stop was St Mary's Church in Undy, which dates back to the 12th century. Being built on a solid shelf of rock, it was the only building in the village to survive the Great Flood (or tsunami) of 1607. I couldn't see an indication on the wall as to the height of the waters, such as you often find on old churches on the Severn flood plain, but maybe there was no one around to mark it after they'd subsided.
Our first stop was St Mary's Church in Undy, which dates back to the 12th century. Being built on a solid shelf of rock, it was the only building in the village to survive the Great Flood (or tsunami) of 1607. I couldn't see an indication on the wall as to the height of the waters, such as you often find on old churches on the Severn flood plain, but maybe there was no one around to mark it after they'd subsided.
Here's some later, remarkably well executed lettering.
Norman font complete with hand gel
On our way to the causeway that would take us out over Caldicott Moor, we passed this scarecrow and Undy Pumping Station, where we turned to follow the path that runs between Sea Wall Reen and Collister Pill Reen, and forms part of a mediaeval sea wall - though clearly not adequate to hold back the flood in 1607.
One of the waymarks is a black poplar, which must have been enormous before it was felled.
Sloes
A little further on, our route took a left turn over Caldicot moor, before turning right and taking us down to the Severn, where we had a fine view of the new bridge ...
... and downstream to Clevedon on the far bank. Here signs warned of cattle but I checked and there were none, so no need to put Cwtch back on the lead.
We could hear a curlew's evocative wobbling call over the warth.
A view inland to Mynydd Machen, Mynydd Maen and Twmbarlwm
Then ... disaster! Cwtch took it upon herself to roll in cow shit - not once, but twice - and given the state of her, I decided it was probably best to put her back on the lead, cut the walk short and head back to the car before she got it all over me and - more worryingly - Liz's pale and pristine walking trousers.
What's that stink?!
Liz Angel: Eco Warrior
Back at the car park, Liz learnt all about Undy Pound while I towelled the dog; thanked God we'd driven there in my car, not hers; and texted the Northerner to let him know we were half an hour away and in the view of the fact we'd had a new bathroom installed the week before, to open the side gate and get as many buckets of water ready as he could. A Great Ouerflowing of Waters indeed.
Not today, Cwtch!
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