Well-stocked and well-cared for by a biological mother, rather then the one-night adoptives I'e grown accustomed to, I set off homeward bound, lighter in spirit and weight (she'd taken most of my panniers). This proved crucial during a tortuously steep hill section North of Chepstow, of which I'm unsure whether I could have cycled under full weight.
The final castle was Chepstow, pictured below, before entering into more civilized lands across the Severn Bridge. A testing time trial home to make a solictor's appointment (power of attorney), replaced any possible romance with a grimace into the hometown of Bath. I write this savouring my first rest day.