Britain is crisscrossed by an amazing network
of ancient track ways.
These remarkable routes are our oldest roads
and have been travelled for more than 5,000 years.
He's quite small, isn't he?
He is small, but he's mighty.
Small but mighty. I like that.
Walked by pilgrims and traders, hunters and invaders,
Celts and Romans, Saxons and Vikings,
each track is bound up in myth, mystery and legend.
Of all the archaeological finds I've come across, when I heard about it,
my jaw actually dropped.
I'm on a quest to connect the clues and rediscover the stories
hidden among Britain's ancient pathways.
I want to find out what it is
that tempts today's travellers to go back in time
and rediscover these mystic tracks.
Do you reckon that's the North Star?
It's not the brightest star in the sky but it's probably
one of the most useful. It's a bit like me.
Smell the leather - you can still smell it.
1,900-year-old leather.
Isn't that absolutely amazing?
This week I'm trekking the ancient earthwork frontier
that straddles the border between England and Wales -
Offa's Dyke.
Inspired by legends that transcend time itself,
my walk along this remarkable route
will reveal a mythical monarch, romantic scribes,
and a fearsome dragon.
These are the paths our ancestors once followed,
the ancient tracks that we in Britain can still walk today.
My journey begins in England,
on the shore at Sedbury, Gloucestershire,
and the southern starting point of something quite remarkable.
This is the mighty River Severn.
You've got Wales over there, England over there,
and since 1966 they've been linked by that beautiful, elegant bridge.
I actually feel quite at home here
because I used to live
just beyond that big stanchion, there, in Bristol.
And I still support Bristol City.
Come on you Reds!
But that isn't the boundary that we're interested in today.
Just beyond that big cliff, there,
is another boundary between England and Wales,
one that's existed for over 1,000 years
and is full of myth and legend.
It's time to explore Offa's Dyke.
Offa was an 8th century king who ruled over a large part
of the English midlands then known as the Kingdom of Mercia.
Offa's Dyke stretches more than 80 miles,
dividing the two great nations of England and Wales.
Through centuries of tribal conflict,
religious strife and local legends,
this ancient border has helped define
what it means to be English and Welsh.
I'm going to walk north from the Severn estuary,
along the Offa's Dyke pass - a modern reinstated version
that follows the course of much of its ancient namesake.
On my trek I'll explore the borderlands between
the ancient English and Welsh kingdoms of Mercia and Powys,
finishing my walk as the dyke crosses the River Severn again
near Welshpool.
Along the way I'll walk in the wake of romantic poet William Wordsworth,
explore the subterranean resting place of King Arthur,
confront Wales's fearsome mythical emblem,
and ponder the priceless gold coin
issued by King Offa in praise of Allah.
Offa's Dyke, a massive ditch and bank structure,
has been around for more than 1,200 years.
The earliest records of this formidable frontier
come as early as the 9th century
when the Welsh monk Asser wrote,
"There was in Mercia in fairly recent time
"a certain vigorous king called Offa,
"who had a great dyke built between Wales and Mercia
"from sea to sea."
A lot of people have never even heard of Offa's Dyke
or have only got a vague idea where it is.
And, indeed, it is quite difficult to find in the landscape
for many of its miles.
Although when you climb up on a bit like this and get to the top,
you are at the top of one of the most important monuments in Britain.
This took hundreds of man hours, thousands of people,
in order to make it.
In fact, it's such a great piece of ancient engineering
that a lot of people compare it with the building of the pyramids.
But unlike the pyramids, King Offa's extraordinary achievements have
in recent times faded from view.
It wasn't always this way.
Offa created this massive earthwork
but he also created something else which is much smaller
but is still remembered.
And it's this.
We've all got them floating around in our pockets, haven't we?
The humble penny.
Offa established the English penny,
which still exists over 1,000 years later.
At the time of his death in 796AD,
the penny had pronounced Offa Rex Anglorum - king of the English.
But it actually represented this visionary ruler's global ambitions
when it came to currency and commerce.
I'll reveal more about this later.
Few written records were kept of the dyke's build,
though inevitably legends have flourished,
and the path over time has become an inspiration for an illustrious
roll call of authors and artists - before me that is -
who have walked its route.
At this next ominously-named stop on my journey,
I've been promised
a certain devilish sightseer,
and a feast for the eyes at one of
Britain's most awe-inspiring views.
Can you see that beautiful ruin over there?
That, of course, is Tintern Abbey,
and just below me down this rather hairy little path...
Yeah, there it is.
That is the Devil's Pulpit.
This book was written in the 1880s by Wirt Sikes
and he says, "Near Tintern Abbey there is a jutting crag,
"overhung by gloomy branches of the yew, called the Devil's Pulpit.
"His Eminence," ie the devil,
"used in other days and wickeder days to preach atrocious morals
"or immorals to the white-robed Cistercian monks of the abbey
"from this rock pulpit."
In other words, here he'd be, looking down at the monks,
trying to seduce them into doing all sorts of disgusting things,
but they were good and holy and noble
so they didn't get juiced up at all
and in frustration he stamped his feet
and you can still see the marks on the top of the pulpit.
Whereas if he'd been a little bit more cool, he could have enjoyed
the spectacular view, couldn't he?
For the rather more serious-minded William Wordsworth,
the magnificent Tintern
and the epic walking tour that would lead him there
were inspirations for his poetry.
But it wasn't any old poem.
He wrote it in the meter of someone walking along,
so he was reminding himself of how he felt when he saw it.
I've got the first few lines on this postcard here.
It's actually called Lines Composed A Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey
On Revisiting The Banks Of The Wye During A Tour.
Not the punchiest of titles, but I think you'll get what I mean
about the rhythm of it.
Five years have passed - five summers with the length
Of five long winters! And again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain springs
With a soft inland murmur Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs
That on a wild, secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
Dum, dum, dum, dum. See what I mean?
I wonder if I like the Tintern Abbey poem so much
because I'm an actor and the words in it are so muscular.
Was Wordsworth consciously recreating the way he walked
in the meter of this poem?
Yes, because he wasn't a person who sat down at his desk and wrote.
This poem was written a few miles above Tintern, very specifically,
and the dates prove that,
so we know that he was composing as he went along,
and Wordsworth would dictate his poetry,
like Milton used to do.
So he wasn't a desk poet.
He was very much an action poet in the sense that he would be,
as he was walking, he would use the rhythm of his walk.
He was a prodigious walker, wasn't he? Yes, he was.
I mean, he was a very athletic walker.
He walked 1,000 miles across Europe one summer
in a kind of cheap grand tour
and he could walk 20 miles without thinking about it.
What would Tintern Abbey have been like in those days?
Well, the ruins would not have been as quiet as they were now.
For example, I mean, when Wordsworth was here
there were beggars living in the ruins of the Abbey.
Poor people who he wouldn't have met
if he hadn't just got out there on the road?
That's right. On that note, I think I will say goodbye.
Now, if I cross that bridge, am I still in England?
No, I think that's the gateway into Wales,
so I wish you no blisters and good weather.
It was lovely to see you. Yeah, nice to meet you. Cheers, bye.
As I cross the border and take my first steps into Wales,
I'm hungry for a close-up experience
of this glorious vision of Gothic architecture.
The quite stunning Tintern Abbey was founded in 1131
and nestles in a valley surrounded by misty green mountains.
Its dramatic ruins never fail to provide travellers
with an unforgettable spectacle.
CHORAL SINGING: Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah
William Wordsworth wasn't the only young artist to come here -
Turner painted it,
and in the early 18th century,
a host of artistic young people flocked here
when it was rediscovered
as a sort of wild and magnificent cultural icon.
It's not difficult to see why they were drawn here.
We call them the Romantics
and if there's one thing this place is, it's absurdly romantic.
It's like a beautiful dreamscape
which they've recreated in words and oils and poetry.
Who wouldn't be inspired by Tintern Abbey?
# I will ever give to Thee
THEY CONTINUE IN WELSH
HYMN ENDS
Offa's Dyke is Britain's longest ancient monument
and even after 1,200 years is still walked by today's travellers,
wanting to explore the rich history
of this ancient border between England and Wales.
I'm now following the track
back across the river and back into England.
This is The Doward in Herefordshire,
a limestone hill around which the River Wye
has carved a steep-sided gorge.
I'm in search of yet another regal legend,
but this time it's King Arthur, not Offa, I seek.
Sometime around the end of the 17th century
there was a poor elderly woman who lived near here
and she'd lost her goat
and eventually she came to a woodcutter's camp which was here.
She asked the woodcutters if they'd seen her goat
and they said, "Well, we're not quite sure
"but there is a cave just here
"and we think we might have heard a bit of bleating from inside it."
And in those days it was really closed up
and she said, "Well, I can't see anything.
"Can you hack a bit of the cave down?"
So they did.
But what they did find...
was a gigantic skeleton of a man about 12 foot long.
And I don't know whether or not they managed to find the goat,
but they carried the skeleton out
and it became the talk of the local area
and I would have to be able to show it to you,
but I can't because they eventually took it down to Bristol,
gave it to a chap called Mr Pye,
who was just about to go off on his ship to the West Indies,
and stupidly he took the skeleton with him,
and the ship foundered and the skeleton was lost.
So there is no tangible evidence, but everybody around here
believes that skeleton did exist and it was the skeleton of King Arthur.
Now, whether or not it really was, I have no idea.
But I'm not on my own today.
I've got a friend with me - Sarah, Sarah Peverley.
Sarah. Hello.
Do you reckon those bones could have been the bones of King Arthur?
It would be amazing to think that they were, wouldn't it?
It would be absolutely wonderful,
cos there's so many connections in this area with the Arthurian myth.
You can almost tangibly sense Arthur here, can't you? Yeah, you can.
I mean, the Arthurian myth has a pull on our islands generally.
It crops up, it gets rewritten
lots and lots of times in moments of crises.
So whenever there's a big conflict in the country,
the Arthurian myth flourishes again.
It's a way of reminding people that unification is important.
And, of course, sites like this are absolutely integral
to keeping that myth alive
because you've got that kind of otherworldliness about it.
It certainly does feel very otherworldly round here.
It's incredible, isn't it?
You can really imagine Lancelot and Guinevere
cantering through this environment. Absolutely.
I mean, this place is just so evocative, isn't it?
It's got a kind of liminal feel to it,
where you've got the supernatural and the natural worlds colliding.
You can imagine a fairy or a dragon living in such a cave.
I love that word liminal.
You've got the line between the mystery inside a cave
and the reality of the outside,
you've got the two countries, Wales and England,
marked by that line of Offa's Dyke.
This area is quivering with liminality, isn't it? It is, yes.
Let's get out of here before we fall to pieces. OK.
We may not have found King Arthur in the cave that bears his name,
but there are bones hidden in its dark interior.
Stone Age people used these caves as shelter
and flints used by hunters can be dated to more than 10,000 years ago.
It's these remnants of fantastic ancient beasts,
such as mammoths, woolly rhino, the jawbone of a wolf,
and these extraordinary hyenas' teeth,
that really fire the imagination.
But I want to know if there's any scientific evidence to back up
claims of King Arthur's existence.
I have a feeling that news of some archaeological discoveries
in a cave up ahead may give me some answers.
It's a killer path, this. It's so skiddy.
it's only a few hundred feet down there but it must have taken me
the best part of 20 minutes to get up here.
Tim?
What are you doing, mate?
Trying to stand upright!
THEY LAUGH
This is really extreme archaeology, isn't it? It certainly is. Yes.
It does look pretty spectacular.
It's an amazing cave.
Are there any human beings associated with it?
Yes, there are - lots.
And two in particular - the remains of two male individuals
that date from about 600AD.
600AD? Well, that's perfect time for Arthur, isn't it? Isn't it?
The Romans have just left. Yes. The Saxons have yet to arrive. Yes.
And it's a period for Herefordshire and the Welsh borders
about which we know very little.
So we were very, very surprised when the date came back as 580-610AD.
Now, what might that be at your feet?
Well, these are some of the finds, Tony.
It's like a comedy bone! It certainly is, isn't it?
I mean, it tells you how well preserved he was.
It's a femur. It is.
That's a bit bigger than mine.
Definitely. He was over six foot in his socks.
Wow. What about in the bag? This is most of his head.
So, again, typical of the age.
His teeth are very, very worn.
Wow.
You know, when you've got your teeth for 65 years plus
and stone ground bread, you're going to get through it.
But beautifully preserved.
Well, we may not have King Arthur,
but we've got someone from the time of King Arthur
and that's good enough for me.
What an amazing find.
And yet more historical finds
and ancient tales,
both real and imagined, lie ahead.
I'm following the path north, recrossing the border into Wales
and travelling forwards several centuries
to discover the three castles built in the Monnow Valley
as part of the Norman Conquest of South Wales.
INDISTINCT SHOUTING
Offa built his 8th century dyke through the Marches,
the border country between England and Wales.
But it was William the Conqueror who resolved to add
an extra impenetrable layer to Offa's mighty dyke
to sort out those lawless Welsh once and for all.
When William the Conqueror came to Britain from France,
he upgraded Offa's defensive line
by putting in a load of castles along the dyke.
He knew that their sheer bulk and height
would prevent his Norman soldiers
from being hammered by the force of the mighty Welsh bowmen.
These deadly arrows tore through the air and chain mail,
to strike fear into the Norman invaders.
I'm intrigued that such a seemingly primitive weapon
could create so much carnage.
I know the Normans were terrified by the Welsh bow and the Welsh bowmen
but what was a Welsh bow?
Well, if we put aside the starry-eyed romanticism
of there being a Welsh longbow,
there isn't really a great difference in the actual bow itself.
It's more from the material that it's made
but, more importantly, the use of the bow - how they were actually
deployed by the Welsh, basically rebels, guerrilla warfare fighting.
So this is a real guerrilla weapon.
Yes. It's not like King Arthur's Excalibur
that unites the whole country.
This is like your AK47 of its day.
It's not a precise sniper rifle,
but it does its job for a fight very quickly.
So are you going to have a pop at our little square bloke?
I think I can do that for you, yes. I'd like to see that. OK.
Oh!
The bows, battlements and the skirmishes along this border
were indeed unrelenting in those lawless times.
Walking Offa's Dyke today offers a sort of no-man's land,
a chance to meditate about ancient warring nations
and the nature of borders.
And then on to St Cadoc's Church at Llangattock Lingoed,
which is in Monmouthshire.
This beautiful whitewashed exterior may seem serene,
but within lurks yet another reminder
of the bloodthirsty conflicts
and the return of another legendary warrior.
So all that white on the outside seems pretty authentic,
but inside it would have been a completely different kettle of fish.
You see this fresco, which was discovered fairly recently.
All those reds and oranges.
I think, in here, it would have been a riot of colour.
Now, that is St George.
See his helmet and see the plume coming out of it,
which is called a panache, which I think is pretty appropriate.
And he is treading - just about make it out, I think - on the red dragon.
Now, whether that is simply a symbol of good triumphing over evil
or whether it's the English stomping all over the Welsh,
I have absolutely no idea.
You can be the judge of that.
I'm not going there.
DEEP ROAR HORSE WHINNIES
This is a hugely symbolic picture in so many ways.
It may be faded and parts of it lost
but it's still extremely impressive and elaborate.
There's no denying how iconic the dragon is for Wales
as an antagonist to England.
Offa's Dyke really is a place potent in myth and legend,
where these national identities unfold.
A frontier for the imagination captured in folklore and verse.
And further along Offa's Dyke,
literary giants, international artists and a fantastic forest
will proclaim the enigmatic beauty of this enchanted land.
Stretching up to an impressive 18 metres wide
and three metres deep,
Offa's Dyke is the immense eighth century frontier
that divides England and Wales.
As I walk the path that follows much of its course,
legendary and literary heroes weave stories that collectively define
the relationship between these two proud nations.
And no place better celebrates this storytelling tradition
than my next stop.
I've reached Hay Bluff,
a prominent hill at the northern tip of the Black Mountains
which straddles the border between England and southeast Wales.
I'm just coming down
off Hay Bluff, which is the highest point
on the Offa's Dyke path.
It's a bit of a slog,
but it's really worth it because you can see all over Herefordshire.
Great views.
And now I'm going down there
to visit one of my favourite events,
certainly my favourite festival in the whole world.
The dyke has led me to Hay-on-Wye.
The town of books.
Half-English, half-Welsh
and a modern Mecca for lovers of the written word.
In a setting that has itself inspired so many wonderful writers,
could there be any more perfect place to celebrate the book?
This has got to be the biggest, the most influential,
the best organised literary festival in the whole world.
I've been coming here every year for years,
sometimes just as a punter, sometimes to speak or perform,
but I always find it quite intoxicating.
In every tent, there's a philosopher,
a political thinker, a writer.
It's an assertion of ideas,
of discourse, of talking, of...
..freedom and hope, really.
Just as each step builds a journey,
each word comes together to create a story.
And there's one particular travel writer
who held the spirit of this land close to his heart,
no matter where he roamed.
I'm on a mission.
Hay is all about book shops.
This one's wonderful, it's like a...
..a book shop of your dreams.
And I'm looking...
..for travel writers. Here's travel writers...
..along here. A, B, C...
Yes, there we go.
Ooh. Of course it would be right up high, wouldn't it?
Bruce Chatwin.
One of our greatest travel writers,
English but inspired by
the history and heritage of Wales.
Bruce Chatwin's award-winning 1982 novel On The Black Hill
told the story of twin brothers living in a bleak Welsh farmhouse
straddling the English-Welsh border.
And Chatwin's insatiable wanderlust inspired much of his writings.
He once said, "Man's real house isn't his home, it's the road
"and life itself is a journey to be walked on foot."
I couldn't agree more.
Chatwin died aged just 48, having only published five books.
But his reputation as one of our finest writers was already secured
and his literary influence continues to this day.
You've written about this place, haven't you? I have.
I wrote Running For The Hills and if I could've done,
I would've called it On The Black Hill but, unfortunately...
Someone got there before you.
Bruce Chatwin nicked my title 20 years before, yes.
And he dug up the dirt, the stories, the myths and the legends
of a whole swathe of Herefordshire and this side of Powys
and he takes it all and he puts it into On The Black Hill.
And it's wonderful in that it's the story of the place
in terms of time, which isn't linear but cyclical
and goes with the seasons,
and that's how I experienced growing up here.
I think there is a deep truth there about how time happens
in this region. There must be loads of stories about this place.
It's thick with stories, so we could start over there
with the Neolithic and we can move through the Romans,
the Normans, the Second World War
and right up to the current.
Those are the best fields in the valley because
there was an almighty battle between the English
and the Welsh down there.
And, of course, the blood, according to my godfather,
soaked into the soil and made it...
I'm so conflicted about Offa's Dyke.
On one hand, it seems to me this very old, ancient thing
and on the other hand, it's really quite young
compared with an awful lot of British history, isn't it?
It sounds old, doesn't it?
The Offa is old, Old English.
Yeah, it sounds like a way back but then compared to around here,
I mean, we measure time in quite different ways.
I mean, so this is Old Red Devonian Sandstone
that we're standing on. I think it's 365 million years old.
And all this would've been a sort of shallow lake at one point
in the Pliocene.
So, no, he's really quite recent, isn't he, old Offa? Yeah.
Where's the border? The border's directly behind us.
You can feel the weight of the mountain behind us.
But the border here is partly a function of geography
and partly a function of the mind.
There's always something odd about borderlands, isn't there?
It is, it's like the edge of an island, really.
It's a shore between two cultures. And you know what?
If we'd been up here 2,000 years ago...
..I bet someone like you would be telling someone like me
similar stories from the previous 2,000 or 3,000 years.
It's a lovely thought, yeah.
As well as On The Black Hill,
borderlands also inspired Bruce Chatwin's seminal travel book
In Patagonia, with its tales of Welsh immigrants
settled in the vast South American region
that straddles Chile and Argentina.
And here on the crest of Hergest Ridge, high up on the path,
there's a little piece of Wales that will be forever...
..well, we shall see.
This is typical borders country, isn't it?
A really brisk wind blowing,
got these fantastic views as far as the eye can see.
Nothing at all growing but bracken.
Well, not quite nothing, actually, cos look at this!
You've got this absurd clump of monkey puzzle trees.
Why? Well, apparently, about half a century ago,
there was a local gardener
who realised that the winter temperature around here
is very similar to the winter temperature in Argentina,
which is where the monkey puzzle trees grow naturally.
So he planted them and they've certainly flourished.
So, in this funny little oasis you're suddenly...
..in Patagonia.
I'm sure Bruce Chatwin would really have approved.
Leaving this puzzling patch of forest behind,
I'm in search of a section of the dyke regarded by many
as the finest on the route,
both for views of the dyke
and the surrounding spectacular landscape
that leads to Llanfair Hill.
But before I get there, I'm stopped in my tracks by a beautiful oasis,
a riot of colour on an otherwise verdant landscape.
And the woman behind this stunning floral scene
connects yet another distant land with Offa's Dyke.
There's this gorgeous little cottage.
Hello?
Oh, hello! Hello!
Hiya!
It's fantastic. How long have you lived here?
Er, 30 years. Wow!
Did you create this garden yourself? Yes. Yes, I did.
With my family. It's staggeringly beautiful.
Thank you. It's a bit wild.
Oh, the two things I can see are the dazzle of colour
and the big open sky.
Wonderful open skies
and I always say I live here because the earth meets the sky
without interruption.
It's absolutely true.
Were you born in England?
No, I was actually born in Uganda
and I was a Ugandan refugee when I was a child.
So, my family were kicked out of Uganda
and then I grew up in west London, Southall.
Southall, a Southall girl.
But I couldn't wait to get back to somewhere that was rural...
Sure. ..because we'd come from rural Africa, Entebbe, by the lake.
And so I just longed to go...
..go somewhere that reminded me of home and was home.
Sure. One of many.
Tell me where Llanfair Hill is, how do I get there?
Er, down this track... Yeah. ..and down the hill.
That's great. Hope you didn't mind me popping in.
No, it's fantastic. It's a bit unexpected, that.
See you. Thank you. Bye!
From Uganda via London to Offa's Dyke,
Tahira has certainly come a long way to find her perfect home.
But the beautiful familiarity of the landscape
belies the ambition of the man who gave the dyke its name.
King Offa had a vision,
a desire to reach into the Arab world
and establish an alliance far beyond the borders of Britain.
Offa's Dyke is a spectacular ancient earthwork
that splits the nations of England and Wales.
Many believe it's a defensive structure,
others a show of strength made by the king behind its name.
While the 8th century King Arthur led the English Kingdom of Mercia
through a golden age,
this progressive ruler had ambitions to spread his Midas touch
much further afield.
Because we've got virtually nothing written down,
precisely who Offa was and what he did remains a bit of a shadow.
But we do have two tangible pieces of evidence -
the dyke and a coin.
Not the cute little penny
which I showed you at the beginning of the programme,
but an extraordinary gold one
which is lodged at the British Museum.
The gold coin of Offa is a very significant object
in the history of ancient Britain.
The coin's design at first glance resembles the gold dinar
but it is, in fact, not of Arabic origin.
It was actually engraved, struck and issued in England by King Offa.
I'm enthralled about how this incredible centuries-old link
with the Arabic world came about.
You know, of all the archaeological finds
that I've handled over the years,
this is one of the two or three that, when I saw about it,
my jaw absolutely dropped. Really.
I just think it's amazing.
And then what's written around the outside?
It says, "Muhammadun rasulu llah,"
which basically means, "Mohammed is the prophet of God."
That is so extraordinary.
8th century, and you've got this Mercian king,
king of a third of England or whatever,
and he's got, round his name on a coin that he's produced,
"Mohammed is the prophet of God." Yeah.
Was he a convert to Islam?
There's a theory that that happened but I think it's baseless, really.
What do you think?
If you wanted to trade with a civilisation
that controlled the land around the Mediterranean,
you wouldn't need to use a gold coin.
So he thought, "Well, you know, they use dinars.
"Possibly I can use one too."
So as far as Offa was concerned, looking across the English Channel,
the Muslim empire would have been massive, wouldn't it?
Well, you're talking from Portugal and Spain, South of France,
all the way across the top of Africa, Middle East as we know it,
Central Asia, all the way across to Pakistan.
That's huge.
Isn't it wonderful that you've got
this tiny, little window into Offa's life?
Here we are, standing on the dyke,
and we now know that Offa recognised that the Muslim empire
was out there and, for some reason, maybe a bit diplomatic,
he acknowledged it
by writing about it on the outside of one of his coins. Exactly.
I think it's been lost in time.
It's a tragedy that we don't know our past
and our European history, really.
Now, in the 21st century we still think Muslims and Islam is new
but 1,200 years ago it was there, you know,
at the doorstep, really, and inside Europe.
Right here on this dyke they were aware of it. That's right. Amazing.
One of the annoying things about doing a long walk like this
is that the whole procedure does tend to get a bit insular.
You're constantly being confronted by the things close to you
and even the horizon looks like you're looking at the whole world.
So it was really reassuring to come face-to-face with Offa's coin
and know that the man who built this dyke was not only thinking about
this area, but was in some way engaging with Rome,
the far side of the Mediterranean,
and maybe even Baghdad and beyond.
The idea is tantalising.
Offa's gold coin connects cultures across continents
in an age 1,200 years ago when such an achievement
might be thought improbable.
To think what little we know of this enigmatic ruler.
If only his story had been written down.
But it wasn't,
and I must satisfy my curiosity
with a walk along the great dyke that honours his name.
What lies ahead is a link that honours a much more modern monarch.
Northwest of the town of Knighton in central Powys,
the county named after the ancient Welsh kingdom,
I approach the vantage point of Beacon Ring
and I have time at last to reflect on this beautiful, fertile land,
and my journey along Offa's Dyke.
My intriguing final destination lies ahead.
At first glance, this hill is just a dense, circular wood
flanked by jarring modern day transmitter masts.
But there's more to it than that.
This would have been an amazing strategic viewing point
in the old days.
Look. You've got England laid out in front of you there,
then you've got the border and you've got Wales
all the way along there.
It's called Beacon Ring,
but there's something rather curious about it.
It's an old hill fort, but it wasn't just used in the Iron Age.
It's crammed full of history.
The Britons fought the Northumbrians here,
it was used in the War of the Roses.
But look - it's jam packed full of trees.
You've got beeches, you've got conifers.
What is the forest doing in the middle of an Iron Age hill fort?
And as I'm about to find out
from a custodian of this beautiful Welsh landscape,
this peculiar juxtaposition of the old with the new
crowns this elevation in more ways than one.
Paul, I'm sorry to disturb your work
but this does seem a bit odd to me.
I've seen hill forts with one or two trees in,
but you've got a whole copse in here, haven't you?
Well, it's actually a plantation that was put here in 1953,
partly to commemorate the coronation of Her Majesty the Queen.
And what would it have looked like?
Well, it's a combination of spruce and beech trees
and the monogram E II R is picked out
so you can see that from the air.
You say it can be seen from the air
but it just looks like a great, big mound of trees now.
It does from here and it is slightly overgrown.
They've reached maturity, and our programme over the next few years
is to try and remove them gradually,
as we have done here with the vegetation on the ramparts,
and return it to its natural grassland state.
It's intriguing, isn't it?
We've got a bold statement by one monarch in the dyke,
and then we've got a bold statement about another one on the hill fort,
which you're about to rip out.
We're going to gradually return it to its earlier natural state,
I think is how I would put it.
Have you mentioned it to the Palace? I'm afraid not, no.
I should. OK. I mean, I really should.
THEY LAUGH
On the ground, the effect is invisible,
but from the air, it's remarkable.
Enjoy this unique view while it lasts.
The trees spell out E II R,
for Elizabeth Regina.
These trees are mere saplings when compared with Offa's Dyke's
amazing 1,200-year history.
As I've discovered on my walk, this ancient route defines
the very essence of what it means to be English and Welsh,
and will no doubt continue to do so for many generations to come.
This impressive frontier may have been built to draw a line
between England's sword-wielding patron saint
and the fiery red dragon of Wales,
but over the centuries it's served to strengthen the national pride
and cultural identities of both these border peoples,
and allowed us, step by step,
to truly celebrate this historic boundary.
I'm finishing my journey here,
where the flow of history meets the flow of a river.
And, like the ancient dyke,
the slow-moving river meanders between both countries,
blissfully oblivious to any modern border.
I'm at the end of my journey now.
This is Welshpool, and over here
is the largest sheep market in the whole of Europe.
Doesn't look much at the moment,
but it's Sunday so it's closed.
Over here is the River Severn.
I've walked 90 miles or so
and, ironically, I've ended up by the side of the same river
as the one where I started.
This walk has been about trying to discover something
about the strange border country that we call the Marches
and also to learn a bit more about King Offa.
Have I succeeded?
Well, as Winston Churchill once said,
in studying Offa we're rather like
a geologist who, instead of finding a fossil, finds only a hollow shape
in which a creature of unusual strength and size
undoubtedly resided.
Subtitles by Ericsson