Today we planned an easy day. After a lazy breakfast we drove half an hour down the road to the market town of Abergavenny.

Malc had brought us here eight years ago and I had bought a belt that I still use daily but, for some reason, it has shrunk over the years and I'm now using the very last hole. I wanted to see if I could get a bigger one.

I found the same stand in the market and they had belts with a near identical design. I didn't like the buckles attached so they replaced that on the spot. Sold! Except they only accept cash (for practical reasons, apparently, nothing to do with avoiding tax). So I had to find an ATM. That done, I found myself in possession of two near identical belts differing in age by eight years; and two unwanted ten pound notes.

After browsing the market and the high street, we popped into a cafe for what turned out to be a very nice lunch. And guess what? They only accept cash (for practical reasons, no doubt) so my unwanted ten pound notes found a new home, to be replaced by lots of change.

We ate outside and enjoyed the sound of a saxophone that a busker was playing around the corner. He was 95% brilliant but the other 5% will be the reason he needs to busk. We left him our change anyway.

Back at the cottage we had a rest before embarking on our afternoon walk. Resting is very important at the moment, I am told, with one of us having Covid and the other one having a dodgy knee. For this reason, suggestions of walks up Pen-y-fan or the Brecon Beacons Four Waterfalls Walk were rejected as too ambitious and we settled on a circular loop around Llangynidr instead.

We drive to the village and then set off up the path along the river Usk.

The river was very scenic but the path was a lot rougher than we were expecting.

We were glad when we finally made it to the side trail back up the hill away from the river.

This deposited us at the Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal and the rest of the walk was on the towpath, much easier on the knees.

There were a number of narrowboats along the canal and we passed a number of locks.

It strikes me that narrowboating must be just like river cruising except you drive yourself and can control how many loud Americans you allow on board. How hard can it be? Something to think about for our next trip to Europe.

The walk along the towpath was very pleasant and reminded us of all the walks we used to do along the Basingstoke Canal when we lived in Frimley. Except for the brown water. That brownness is not an artifact of the photography, it really is that brown.