Five Stars for Hay-on-Wye

Our morning start was tied to the opening of the bookstores. Very odd for two non-shoppers to consider retail hours. Breakfast, like dinner last night, was in the hotel dining room. At both meals we were the only guests. The food and service were good but it is odd to be the only ones seated in a huge, wood-paneled, ornate-ceilinged and very quiet room. After we finished dinner the chef came out, sat down, and chatted for a half hour about the history of the house and cycling routes nearby.

Even outside book stalls

For all of you who love books Hay-on-Wye is special. In a couple of blocks there are more bookstores dedicated exclusively to children's books than you will find in all of Portland. Most of the shops are filled with rare books, used books, and remainders. Only one store had the newest and latest publications. To us the new is of the least interest because we have a wad of vouchers to purchase those at Waterstones just before we return home. Holding ourselves in check we left with only a few things tucked under our arms but that did not spoil the hours of browsing.

 

I was tempted by the large brass cooking pots in the antique stores. Serious consideration was given but how would we get them home? The weight would probably make shipping more expensive than purchase. My best idea was for me to wear one onto the plane like a fancy English lady's hat. Afraid that I might end up in a terrorist detention camp without a passport I left the beautiful copper pot in the shop.

 

The Baskerville chef suggested a drive through the Llanthony Valley to see the beauty of the countryside and visit the ruins of the priory. Around three in the afternoon, the rain stopped and the clouds parted. We jumped in the car and started on a fourteen mile drive up, down, and around on a very narrow single track road. Not quick enough as the sun disappeared by mile six and then the rains started. We walked through the puddles and mushy grass, at times hiding under ruined archways, trying to stay as dry while still appreciating the beauty of the site.

 

Although the food had been good at the Baskerville we opted for a more lively atmosphere. Our table was by the window overlooking the River Wye. Eating at seven thirty the river quickly disappeared into the dark. As we drove back to Baskerville we speculated whether the advertised local "every Wednesday night" music would actually be happening in our very lonely hotel. After our lonely dining experiences, we even imagined a group of musicians performing just for our benefit. When we walked into the bar we were greeted by two musicians and a three person audience. Counting me and Mike the crowd gradually grew to fifteen including the hotel owner who sat down next to us and chatted during the break. The musicians were paid with a drink and a bowl of freshly fried chips.

Baskerville

 

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