I've been spending the days wandering around in search of old ruined buildings or exotic forms of transportation.  Then in the evenings there's usually some cider being consumed, and we ride around the tiny little town, with my hosts showing me every trail in the area that they can think of.  I put together a little gallery of Ross's alleys:  
 
The Alleys of Ross-on-Wye
 
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The paths meander across private land, usually pastureland.  Sometimes, when you come to a stile, they've been nice enough to add this little doggie gate so you don't have to haul your dog over the fence.

The trails are dangerous!  Good chopper ridin'.  (I collect pictures of icons for ways you can die.  See more here)

This is the entrance to Mr. M23's rat hole.

Cider cellar.  Mike makes about 3000 gallons each year.