Day 148 Sunday - Week 33 of the year. Week 22 of Covid 19. 229 days gone done and dusted and another 137 left to go. We left Hay and decided to head for the tiny towns of Knighton and Presteigne. We ended up at Presteigne first and parked up on a small car park just behind the police station . The lovely town offered us free parking for 2 hours . Just enough to explore this small border town . Presteigne is in welsh called Llanandras and stands on the River Lugg. It has the title of the Gateway to Wales due to its position . Its border wraps round three sides of the town . We were never to see the town though . The police station was closed . The town deserted . The notice board told us that cars could park there but motorhomes were not . I stood for a while and looked at the board . I couldnt believe just how we were made to feel . We could have risked stopping but had no idea whether an over zealous traffic warden would arrive and ticket us. The town was not that appealing
. As I walked back to Gabby another van drove in. A small Romahome . Tiny it would fit into a car parking space . Not big enough to stand up in but it did have a bed in it. The driver stopped me Can we stop he asked . I explained the free bit and then went on to moan about the fact the sign said we could not stop nor could we sleep overnight . He stayed . We did not . We headed away to have our lunch sitting in a very small exposed pull in just outside the town . Gabby rocked and rolled when a van went past . Not the most pleasant of stop overs .
Then on to Knighton . A massive car park on a wonk . We parked up . Free parking again . Thankyou Knighton . And we could stop the night if we wanted to . Thankyou Powys Council . We brewed a coffee and sat and watched the empty car park .Where were all the people ? The only visitors to the car park were about half a dozen Royal Mail red vans . They stopped
, opened up their backs and passed parcels to each other . It was like an odd game of pass the parcel . Had they not been in red vans we might have thought they were drug dealers plying their trade on an empty car park . It looked a nice little town. Much like all the towns along the Marches . Hilly and with another clock tower identical to Hay .
Knighton had been a Mid Wales market town since 1230 and still had a thriving livestock market . We knew that because we were sitting opposite the market . Nothing was going on today. We were never going to see the houses from the 17th century and narrow winding streets. Nor would be seeing the stone age settlement nor walk the Town Trail. If the weather had been better we might have even seen sections of Offa Dyke and one of the Norman Castle Mounds . But it was dire . Typical British weekend weather . Pouring down . All I managed was a walk to the chemist . I had something in mind I needed . On entering I had to queue . That was
fine .There was just one elderly lady in front of me . She was talking about her tablets to the one assistant behind the counter . I waited and waited and then realised that I had left my purse in the van . I walked out , picked up my purse and walked back . She was still there ,. Still whittling about her tablets . Life is definately run in the slow lane in Knighton .
Our plan to stop the night was scuppered . The boy racers appeared . Where they following us ? A young lad in his bright yellow/orange Saxo . Loud exhaust and lots of revving and noise and showing off . He went out , He came back and then the tinkering began . Bonnets opening , bonnets closing . We gave up and moved on . Newtown was our night stop . Another huge car park . on it . A bus station and when the buses came in we picked up their WiFi. We had our 2 hours parking and then settled in for the free overnight stop. We stopped under a tree . The rain dripped off the leaves
drumming on Gabbys roof . The TV would not work due to the leaves and shade of the tree . We were joined by another white box .
