Today was going to be our longest day of the lot if Komoot, the app I’d let plan these five days, was to be believed so we decided straight away that if there was a shortcut to be taken then we would absolutely take it because fuck walking over twenty miles in one go quite frankly. We pulled into the tiny Mouldsworth train station which is adorable. The station house is now a hairdressers and the platforms don’t even have electronic boards telling you which train is next, or even announcements, but there is a tiny, public herb garden on the Chester platform so that’s very cute.

Anyway. We changed trains at Chester, the Transport For Wales train was predictably delayed so it was 8.20am by the time we finally got underway, traipsing along the main road in the vague direction of where we’d just come from. There are pros and cons to road walking. Of course you can make good time on a decent, solid surface but it’s not exactly the lovely sounds of nature you look for in a hike.

There was, however, a petrol station with a toilet and a Greggs. We had perfectly good Aldi sausage rolls in our bags but Tarrant has difficulties walking past a Greggs without buying one of their lukewarm offerings so we relieved them of one each to reward ourselves for the really quite ridiculous road plod we’d just done along the Wales Coast Path. We swung a left to continue with this particularly uninspiring chunk of trail but at least we were back by water now. Feels like a bit of a piss take calling it a coast path when you’re strolling past an Esso, very much inland.

Komoot wanted to take us up the river (not a euphemism) but there was actually a cycle path that another app I like, Organic Maps, made us aware of. It would shave nearly a mile off our day which sounds quite glorious actually. We had a bit of a chat about whether the river walk would be nicer but honestly? Knowing what we know about the Wales Coast Path at this end of the trail? Fuck it, we’ll take the more direct route. Admittedly it did feel like we were hiking along this thing for three fucking days, it might have been a mile shorter but it probably felt two fucking miles longer.

Cycle paths are usually really well maintained which, let’s face it, footpaths aren’t always and you find yourself sacrificing layers of flesh to brambles whilst you’re knee deep in an unavoidable mud pit on the other side of a stile you just stepped over. This one was an old railway line so it was flat and straight and outstandingly dull, my heels and Tarrant’s ankles had opinions about walking for literal miles on the tarmac, but you know what else cycle paths often have a lot of?

Benches. There are benches. Places to park your arse that aren’t rotten tree stumps, or weirdly angled rocks, or just the actual floor three inches from a pile of dog shit you didn’t notice until you sat down. This one had plenty of benches which were ideal to rest our aching feet and legs. And you know what cycle paths don’t have? Cows. There are never any cows along cycle paths so I’m going to take the tedium and the monotony and I’m going to call it a win. Here’s to National Cycle Route 5.

After what felt like several years of pounding the pavement we ended up back over the border in England, in Chester, or the outskirts thereof, where we sat down for a butty and a scotch egg and to question all of our life choices. Not only did everything hurt there were exactly zero places to pop off for a cheeky wee if you didn’t possess the inherent ability to piss whilst standing up. It’s times like this I understand penis envy.

We had a couple more miles of this to go before we switched to footpaths. Off we fucked then, fuelled by fruit pastilles and grim determination, at least we did once we’d coaxed our lower limbs back into action. We wandered through a very posh village then stepped off the tarmac and onto a footpath. Ah, bliss! Much nicer for pretty much every joint in my body.’

The joy did not last. We can cope with the odd quagmire, we even expect it, and we were indeed treated to plenty of that. What does our nut in is completely unmaintained rights of way, where you have to batter down pretty much every sharp plant known to UK horticulture with your poles before you’ve got a chance of getting through with all of your skin intact, only to be met with dangerously broken stiles, or stiles buried in hedges. It’s slow going.

Then we decided to take another short cut to shave off another mile which was probably a bit of a rookie error given the fact the named trail we’d been following, the Longster Trail, obviously hadn’t been cared for recently and we ended up thigh deep in grass, trying to stop horse flies from taking chunks out of us. They’re vicious little bastards aren’t they? And they hurt!

By the time we burst out onto the home straight into Mouldsworth all of our blood had been replaced with nettle juice and I’m pretty sure a horse fly tried to make off with a limb. God that was emotional. We’d gone from absolutely smashing out the miles on a long, flat cycle path to picking our way across fields at half the speed. I’m really not sure what I prefer to be honest. I think I like the challenge to be at the start of the walk, not when your already seventeen miles in and dreaming of that hot shower and your lovely, fluffy M&S dressing gown.

But that’s day two of the Five Day Fill In complete. We’re one day closer to Edale and the start of the Pennine Way. Not that we’ll be doing the Pennine Way for some time but at least once this gap is filled in the next big challenge we can do will be that bad boy.

STATS
Day: 92
Day on LEJOG: 51
Distance walked today: 20.3 miles
Total walked so far: 1152.27
“The Top Half” total walked so far: 38.1
Weather: Started off wet but did get better despite the wind.

Jump to “Useful shit to know…”

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Y Fflint (Flint), Clwyd, Wales to Mouldsworth, Cheshire, England

Useful shit to know…

• Mouldsworth train station has a car park costing £2 for the whole day, but you have to use the RingGo app to pay which costs an extra 40p.
• You can also call on 0113 8090070 to pay. Location code is 45810.
• Signal is pretty piss poor there so you might find you have to take a photo of the location code and do it when you have 4G or something.
• The station isn’t manned and has no toilets.

• We had to change trains at Chester to get to Flint. It cost £9.70 each one way.
• Chester is a much bigger station with cafes and toilets.
• Flint is small but manned and has toilets you can use if you have a rail ticket.
• There are also toilets at the big Esso (with the Greggs) in Connah’s Quay.