, Monmouth, Monmouthshire,

I'd just finished thinking about advice given by Lifestyle Gurus when we pulled into Monmouth's Cattle Market Car Park and I wondered if there was still one (a market, not a car park in case you're confused). Monmouth, the birthplace of Henry V and Charles Rolls of fine car fame, appeared prosperous and confident enough not to tarnish its image through too much commercial exploitation of its history and I speak as a veteran of Fort William where I was once offered a Rob Roy Burger in a fast food joint. I smiled and nodded goodbye to my fellow travellers and within minutes was looking in the window of a chocolatier wondering if my New Year Resolution would last. Within seconds I knew it wouldn't and so, resolution shakily intact, I headed for the river - one of them at least (Monmouth has three - the Monnow, the Wye and the Trothy), because a man can only take so much temptation.|I had never seen anything quite like the bridge over the Monnow. This simple sentence does not begin to do justice to a lovely red sandstone (if that is what it was) structure that must have been at the heart of local events for over eight-hundred years, but it's the best I can come up with for now. It was lovely and so, in a gentle breeze that had blown over fields of sweet smelling wild flowers, I moved closer to have a better look..|As people walked their dogs on a bank-side path, a father and son threw little pieces of bread into the water and watched them drifting down in the current before being eaten by well-fed ducks that swam about in deeper pools and waited for their lunch to arrive. The dark haired father looked like Rudolph Valentino's brother – the one who liked donuts. His skin tight faded rugby jersey, which must have made breathing difficult, would have to stay on him until he lost weight.......

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