AN Abergavenny man who claims he has walked in the footsteps of giants insists he’s not talking metaphorically, but stresses that he has quite literally walked in the trail of the man-eating fiends.

“It’s a good job I’m not an Englishman or those big bastards would have smelt my blood and gobbled me up for sure,” explained semi-professional paranormal investigator Johnny Turnip.

The Abergavenny explorer explained that he stumbled across the giant’s footprints while walking through the fairy realms, or what he calls the far-flung lands.

Turnip told the Chronicle, “After the weird experience of meeting my ancestor Potato Creek Johnny and giving him his mission to steal the fairy gold that would one day help me bring magic back to the world, I had pretty much a stomach full of the supernatural. I just wanted to neck a few cold ones and stuff my face with sugar, salt, and screens for a while and forget just how pivotal I was in the history of the world.”

As it turned out, fate had other plans and before he could flee the land of the Tylwyth Teg, Turnip's spirit guide Bob Dylan turned up on a penny farthing and said he had to show him a thing or two about a thing or two before he could get back to normality and Netflix binges.

Turnip said, “I don’t know if any of your readers know Bob Dylan personally, but in my experience, he’s a difficult man to get any sense out of. He kind of squints a lot like the sun’s always in his eyes and speaks in riddles. He also has a bad habit of talking to other people who aren’t actually there, but he’s a good man to have on your side when you’re lost somewhere over the rainbow and looking for the direction home.”

Turnip revealed that as he and the music legend walked through this strange land of golden rivers, blue grass, towering trees, and marmalade skies, he began to notice huge footprints everywhere, “like those of men, if the men in question had grown to the size of ten elephants and given up on quality footwear.”

Turnip said, “I asked Dylan who the freakish footprints belonged to and he just replied in that wheezy voice of his, ‘Man. I can’t believe you just asked me that. How am I supposed to answer a question like that?’

“‘With the truth you awkward bitch!’ I replied."

Turnip added, “I soon learned that by nature Dylan could be quite evasive and he responded best to bluntness and a firm tone.

“‘You ever heard of Fee, Fi, Fo, and Fum?’ He asked with a smile.

“‘Nope! They a boy band or something?’ I said.

“‘They be giants, my lad!’ Said Dylan trying to sound like some sort of pirate or something but just embarrassing himself.

“‘Wow!’ I said. Sounding sarcastic without meaning to. ‘You mean to say we’re walking in the footsteps of giants?’

“‘Been walking in the footsteps of giants my while life,’ he muttered. ‘Left a lot of blood on those tracks. Maybe one day someone will pick up my trail and take it to the beginning.’

“‘Don’t you mean the end?’ I asked.”

“Dylan just gave me one of those withering looks that could have curdled milk and paralysed a cat and then pointed at a distant hill and said, ‘Look over there on top of the sweet-top mountain and you’ll just about make them out.’

“As I looked I could see four massive lumbering shapes walking with this weird gait, like Liam Gallagher in wellies.

“‘Bloody hell!’I mused. ‘They’re titans!’

“‘They sure are!’ Said Dylan.

“‘Where they heading?’ I asked

“’ Some place familiar to millions but which you and I may never have even dreamt of.’

“Although I was tempted to say Bargoed! I felt it would ruin the majesty of the situation. So I just watched as the four monsters of myth and eaters of man flesh slipped from view.

“‘What next?’ I asked Dylan.

“Before he could reply, there was an almighty racket which sounded like the song of thousands of seagulls. And sure enough, the sky was suddenly full of the majestic sea birds, squawking, squealing, and happy to be alive.”

Turnip explained, “A lot of people who see ugliness in everything are a bit prejudiced towards the gulls just because they have a habit of targeting fat toddlers, slow boomers, and witless Gen Zers and stealing the ice cream or chips from their pudgy and grasping hands.

"Yet to my mind, a gull’s gotta eat. I’ve always found that if you feed them a little bit of what you’re eating then they’ll show respect. It’s called paying tribute."

Turnip explained, “As I was gazing heavenwards at the gulls in awe, I heard Dylan murmur, ‘The gull has the ocean in its veins and the centuries in its eyes, and yet still they receive the poorest of welcomes in realms other than this.

“Pleased to meet a fellow seagull fancier I added, ‘Tesla had his pigeon, Mozart had his starling, Dickens had his raven, and we have our gulls.’

“Dylan nodded softly and as he squinted like the banjo player out of ‘Deliverance’ into some distant horizon, added, ‘They’re on their way to pay homage to the Duke of Earl. It’s an impressive herd. That’s for sure.’

“‘Don’t you mean flock?’ I answered.

“He just shook his head solemnly and said, ‘Don’t you get it yet JT? We’re in the far-flung lands. The only limit here is your imagination. You say potato I say Turnip. This is the place where all the roads lead and everything begins. It’s the tower of song, the darkness at the break of noon, the smoke on the water, the four thousand holes in Blackburn, Lancashire, the land of tales, and the world of no words. Speaking of which, if you’re to succeed in your quest you need to know that which hunts you?’

“‘The leprechauns?’ I said as my mouth suddenly went dry and my heart skipped a beat at the very thought of those diminutive and bearded filth and their mermaid slaughtering ways.’

“‘To be sure’ said Dylan cryptically. Before adding, ‘You need to hear the origin story of how the leprechauns came to be and how they were exiled from this kingdom a heartbeat and an eternity ago. So let’s pay a visit to the Sugar Spun Sister and ask her to blow us a bubble for our troubles.’”

The Manifest Trials And Tribulations Of Johnny Turnip is now available on Amazon.