Showing posts with label UK-England-Shropshire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK-England-Shropshire. Show all posts

Saturday, 25 July 2026

Shrewsbury (1)

The Abbey, Unitarians and The Loopy Shrew

Why Shrewsbury?


Shropshire
Shrewsbury
For the last twenty years we have celebrated our wedding anniversary with an expensive dinner at a Michelin starred restaurant. This year, though, we changed the plan. Our anniversary fell on a Sunday and few such restaurants open on Sundays (or Mondays for that matter) and even fewer still offer a three-course dinner. We are getting older and 12-course tasting menu with 12 different wines – maybe I exaggerate slightly - are becoming hard work, miniscule though each individual course might be.

Instead, we decided to spend the weekend in Shrewsbury. The town is only 34 miles (55km) from home, but although we have rounded the by-pass many times, we knew little of what lies within, so we decided to find out.

Shrooze or Shrowz?

Shrewsbury is pronounced "SHROOZ-bree" or “SHROWZ-bree” apparently at the whim of the speaker. According to ChatGPT ‘Shrooz-bee is favoured by locals and much of Shropshire,’ but ‘Shrowz-bree is widely used elsewhere and is perfectly acceptable.’ They may be right.

The Basics

Shrewsbury has a population of almost 80,000. It is Shropshire’s County Town and was its largest town until the rapid development of Telford in the 1970s​.

Shropshire in England and Shrewsbury in Shropshire

It was founded by Saxons on a low hill almost completely surrounded by a meander of the River Severn. The town grew within this easily defended space – a rough circle of radius 400 to 500m – and by the 15th century had largely filled it.

The Centre of Shrewsbury (my thanks to the copyright holder)

There was little significant development beyond the river until the arrival of the railway in 1848. The town now spreads far and wide in all directions, but it is still the area within the meander that attracts visitors. Here the medieval street plan remains largely intact; timber framed buildings from the 15th and 16th centuries rub shoulders with grand Georgian town-houses, amid a sprinkling of Victorian classical exuberance, and modern geometrical design.

Old Market Square, Shrewsbury, empty at 8 o'clock on a Sunday morning
The stone Old Market Hall with the clock dates from 1595 (grade I listed), the timbered dwelling (Grade II listed) was built in the 1570s as a merchant's house, to its right is a 4-storey Georgian town house built some 200 years later

Over 660 listed buildings are crammed into this small space. There was never a plan, but somehow it works - though not for drivers. Once in possession of a parking space, it is best to forget the car and explore on foot.

Sat 25-Jul-2026

Shrewsbury Abbey

After extolling the delights of ‘inside’ I will start 'outside'; Shrewsbury Abbey is 200m the wrong side of the English Bridge.

It was founded in 1083 as a Benedictine monastery by Roger de Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury. Old Rog could never have imagined the Abbey Foregate Car Park, just across the road and the best spot for a photograph. I have excluded as many cars as possible.

Shrewsbury Abbey

The Abbey may now be best known for Brother Cadfael, who lived here and solved murders in the 12th century. Ellis Peters (real name Edith Pargeter) produced 20 meticulously researched Cadfael novels between 1977 and 1994. 13 were adapted for television in the 1990s starring the impeccable Derek Jacobi. I would believe he really was a medieval monk, but for his late 20th century sense of justice. The Abbey Foregate hardly looks medieval so the series was filmed in Hungary, but there is a Cadfael/Edith Pargeter stained glass window just inside the south door.

Jane Gray's Memorial window for Edith Pargeter, aka the Cadfael Window, Shrewsbury Abbey

Nearby are the effigies of Richard Onslow, Speaker of the House of Commons, and his wife Katherine. Richard died in 1571.

Richard and Katherine Onslow, Shrewsbury Abbey

On the north side is the shrine of St Winifred, (or Gwenffrewi),a 7th century Welsh virgin saint. The daughter of a nobleman in what is now Flintshire, she rejected her suitor, Caradog, deciding instead to become a nun. Displeased, he drew his sword and chopped her head off - a fine example of early medieval toxic masculinity. A healing spring appeared where her head fell.

Fortunately, St Beuno (who was, conveniently, Winifred’s great-uncle) came along, restored her to life and called down the wrath of God on Caradog causing the earth to open up and swallow him.

St Winifred became extremely popular in England in the 12th century, resulting in her relics being moved to Shrewsbury, and for a several centuries pilgrimages were made to see them. There is no undisputable earlier record of her, so she was, possibly, a 12th century fiction.

St Winifred's Shrine, Shrewsbury Abbey

The Dissolution of the Monasteries did not leave Shrewsbury Abbey a ruin as (like Bolton Priory in Yorkshire) it also served as a Parish Church, but it was not unscathed. The north and south transepts were demolished in 1540, the remains visible in the brickwork (half hidden by trees in my photo above). The eastern end of the Abbey - everything beyond the round Norman arch across the nave in the photo below - was also demolished.

The eastern end of Shrewsbury Abbey

In the 1880s, the eastern end was rebuilt on a much smaller scale to a design by John Loughborough Pearson who also designed the reredos.

Reredos, Shrewsbury Abbey

In the porch are plaques commemorating local people who died in two world wars. Most notable among them is the poet Wilfred Owen, whose name (Lieut. W.E.S. Owen M.C.) can be found by the poppy on the right-hand column. Born in nearby Oswestry, Owen later lived in Shrewsbury.

World War I Memorial, Shrewsbury Abbey

Outside, a memorial to Owen represents the pontoon bridge he was building across a canal when he was killed, aged 25, on the 4th of November 1918, one week before the armistice.

Wilfred Owen memorial, grounds of Shrewsbury Abbey

It seems an underwhelming memorial for the finest poet of World War One.

Getting Organised

After a light but leisurely lunch near the Abbey we decided to walk across the English Bridge and find our hotel on foot. Distances are small once inside the meander, and roads are smaller. Some were also closed for forthcoming celebrations, and we have learned from experience, particularly in Portugal, that the number and angles of roads at medieval intersection can overwhelm a sat nav trained on more orderly modern street patterns.

We found the hotel, discussed the location of their car park with reception, explored a little then returned to our car. It took us three goes to get in the correct lane in the convoluted approach to the English Bridge, one of these errors took us on a lengthy detour. Finding the car park was easy enough once we had found the right cobbled lane off the narrow street, but by the time the car was parked it was check-in time, after which, being elderly, we had a nap.

Shrewsbury Unitarian Church

During our brief recce we found the Unitarian Church. The Unitarians are not a well-known, nor a large group. Today there are some 170 Unitarian churches, chapels and fellowships in the UK.

Shrewsbury Unitarian Church
The Italianate Façade was added in 1839

Despite the date of 1662 at the top, The Italianate Façade was added in 1839. Behind is the site of the house of Richard Price and the chapel that was built behind that for security reasons.

Once Martin Luther set the ball rolling, people all over Catholic Europe started looking at church doctrine and deciding which parts to discard. The concept of the Trinity had always been problematic; Christianity is monotheistic so, some reasoned, if there is only one God, then it is God the Father. Jesus then becomes an important, maybe inspired teacher but not actually divine, and the Holy Ghost disappears in a puff of smoke. The virgin birth problem also disappears - it was always a stretch of the imagination, and a dubious translation, to boot. The idea of a Unitarian God first became popular in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and in Transylvania in the 16th century.

The English Civil War ended in 1649 with the execution of Charles I. Having rid themselves of a king who wanted to be an absolute ruler, England found itself governed by Crowell's Puritan zealots, which was worse. Oliver Cromwell died in 1658 and the monarchy was restored in 1660. With the intention of settling everything down, The Act of Uniformity was passed in 1662, from now on everybody would be Church of England and all services would use the revised prayer book.

It was not the first (nor last) act of parliament to achieve the opposite of its intention. Over 2000 C of E priests either resigned or were ejected, resulting in a growth in non-conformist churches. Presbyterians, Congregationalists, Baptists and Quakers, were tolerated or persecuted depending on whim. Two priests were ejected in Shrewsbury, the Rev Francis Tallents from St Mary’s (see next post) became a Presbyterian minister, preaching clandestinely in the house of a supporter.

Here is a nice picture of an old house in Shrewsbury - just to break up the big block of text

The Act of Toleration in 1689 belatedly corrected the situation. A small meeting house was cautiously built behind the house of timber merchant Richard Price, with Tallents as the minister.

During the 18th century many English Presbyterian congregations rejected the Trinity and became Unitarian, though how much they owe to the earliest Unitarians in Transylvania is unknown. Also unknown is the date when the Shrewsbury congregation became Unitarian.

In 1715 a Jacobite mob destroyed the chapel, but it was rebuilt almost immediately. The government paid compensation and George I later granted the congregation a Royal Charter, which is preserved inside the church.

Modern Unitarians reject the idea of doctrine, preferring members to decide their own beliefs. Whether they are Christian or post-Christian is a matter for respectful discussion.

I like religious buildings, this blog is full of churches, mosques, synagogues and temples - Hindu, Buddhist, Daoist and others. I like the architecture, the art and the history they embody, but I am not a member of any religion denomination. I do not feel I need a religion, but if I ever changed my mind, I would probably join the Unitarians.

Important Local Unitarians

Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Samuel Taylor Coleridge was appointed minister here in January 1798 at a salary of £120 a year. He resigned two weeks later when Thomas Wedgwood (son of Josiah Wedgwood, potter and entrepreneur) offered him financial support to devote himself to poetry.

Josiah Wedgwood
Josiah Wedgwood was a Unitarian and a member of the Lunar Society of Birmingham, a late 18th century club which brought together the leading scientists, inventors, industrialists and thinkers of the Midlands Enlightenment. Thomas Priestly, who first isolated oxygen, was another Unitarian member. Erasmus Darwin (we visited his house in Lichfield where the society sometimes met) was a physician and member of the C of E.

Charles Darwin
Erasmus Darwin’s son Robert married Josiah Wedgwood’s daughter Susannah and became a doctor in Shrewsbury. Six of their children survived infancy, and two of them married Wedgwoods, including their second son, Charles.

With a Unitarian mother and a C of E father, Charles Darwin attended the Shrewsbury Unitarian Church, but was educated at Shrewsbury School, which was (and is) C of E.

The Loopy Shrew

In the evening, we took a five-minute walk to the Loopy Shrew. We had booked a table there because they had an attractive small plate menu and I liked the name.

Despite the falling temperature, the seats round all the tables outside the Loopy Shrew were filled with drinkers, and plenty of people were standing around them drinks in hand as though waiting for a table to become free. We found the door guarded by a couple of heavies (well middle-weights, to be fair) – not something we are used to. Apparently deciding a couple of over 70s would cause no problems, they stepped aside. Inside the voices were loud and the music even louder. Beginning to wonder if this was a mistake, I accosted a member of staff, told him we had a booking and he led us through the crowd to the restaurant - a large backroom where the noise level was mercifully much lower. Perhaps all would be well.

I was toying with the idea of a cocktail when Lynne said ‘G&T’, so I had to have one as well – someone had to share the bottle of tonic or the gin would get drowned. A Tanqueray each and a shared tonic made a pleasant start to the evening.

Lynne and a G&T, Loopy Shrew

Lynne looked through the menu and decided she wanted the sea bass. I scanned the small plate menu but then spotted ‘Thai chicken and vegetable Penang curry’ among the ‘mains’. It was described as a ‘Thai red curry with coconut’ so I ordered it, despite my misgivings about the word ‘Penang.’

[Digression warning] We have visited Penang. It is one of my favourite places but it is a constituent state of Malaysia not Thailand. Eating in Penang is always a pleasure, the mixed Malay/Chinese/Indian population means that food from three of the world’s finest cuisines is produced by, and mainly for, those who understand it best. And then there are the delights of the fusion dishes, Penang laksa is almost worth the journey on its own. But curries in Penang are Indian, more exactly Tamil Nadu, in style, not Thai. [Digression over]

Back at the Loopy Shrew, Lynne was telling me how good her sea bass was,...

Sea Bass, Loopy Shrew

...while I was starting on a dish in which Thai red curry paste and chicken had been cooked in coconut milk. The milk had split into oil to fry the chicken, and coconut solids to add flavour to everything else. It is the same trick used by Malays and Indonesians to cook rendang and I find the resulting flavour combinations deeply satisfying.

Phanaeng Chicken curry, Loopy Shrew

[Update: After a little research I have found the curry has nothing to do with Penang, which is a typo. The menu should have read Panang (or more properly Phanaeng) referring to a red curry/coconut dish originating in central Thailand, which I had not previously encountered.]

The Loopy Shrew did a good job, though I have two quibbles i) lemongrass is an essential ingredient of red curry paste, and if there was any here, I could not taste it, and ii) the traditional garnish of makrut lime leaves, whose acidity provides an invigorating contrast to the heavy sauce, was missing. Fresh lime leaves are hard to find here, so this was unsurprising, but the rice cracker replacement was just a distraction. Most importantly, though, they did not back off with the chilli, as too many restaurants do. Anybody who orders a Thai red curry should know what they are ordering, and heat is part of the deal. So, for giving me heat and coconut, I will happily give them a solid 8/10.

We were both pleased with our main courses and felt we had space for a dessert. Lynne chose affogato, I picked Eton Mess Pannacotta, we both got what we expected, and very good they were too.

Pannacotta and Eton Mess, Loopy Shrew

The bill, the whole of it, food, gin and wine, was roughly the same as we paid for one 5-course tasting menu last year. As we had a 5-course tasting menu each and a different (and expensive) wine with each course, plus a few other things, last year’s wedding anniversary meal cost,… let’s just say considerably more than our evening in the Loopy Shrew.

At a Michelin starred restaurant you expect to find four or five ingredients you have never heard of before, two or three combinations you never imagined could go together, but do (smoked eel with horseradish ice-cream, and apple granita on scallops were two memorable successes). Two dishes should take your breath away with their excellence, and one will disappoint. But eating five or seven courses takes a long time, you need to concentrate on every mouthful, and we have reached an age were this becomes hard work.

The Loopy Shrew gave us four dishes, three of them familiar and the fourth, the Phanaeng curry, from a familiar genre. All were well cooked and presented and full of flavour. The restaurant is unlikely to win a Michelin star, but that does not mean you cannot eat an excellent, satisfying meal and enjoy a relaxing evening out.

As we left the volume of the music in the still crowded bar was louder than anything I have heard since my student days, now well over half a century ago. It reminded us that the Loopy Shrew is not aimed at our demographic, but somehow it did not seem to matter. I would recommend it.

Credits

Gnesener1900 - Shrewsbury Coat of Arms reproduced under CC BY-SA 3.0
Nilfanion Shropshire within England map. Adjusted for this blog reproduced under CC BY-SA 3.0
J Hewes, Map of Shrewsbury centre.

Images of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Josiah Wedgwood and Charles Darwin are in the Public Domain

All text and other images © David and/or Lynne Williams

Friday, 2 July 2021

The Long Mynd - A DIY Macmillan Mighty Hike

Making Some Effort in a Good Cause

Preparations for a Peak District Mighty Hike that Never Was

In late January or early February Mike suggested that he, Francis and I should form a team to take part in the Peak District Macmillan Mighty Hike - a 13-mile sponsored walk (there was a 26-mile variant for masochists) in aid of Macmillan Cancer Support in the Peak District National Park on the 24th of July.

Feeling we might have a fitness problem Team MDF, as we dubbed ourselves, embarked on a series of training walks on Cannock Chase and around Haughton and Swynnerton. Most were on dry days, some even in sunshine. It was not always warm sunshine, though our late April outing in Haughton shortly after pubs had re-opened for outdoor drinking….

The end of a long drought - a glass of lunch outside the Red Lion in Bradley

… was as warm as walkers could want or tolerate.

Spring has definitely reached Staffordshire, Haughton in April

Donations started to roll in, but in early June the Peak District Park Authorities cancelled mass participation events as ‘the elongated and ongoing restrictions over foreign travel, [have caused] an unprecedented number of visitors, putting the land we cover under strain.


Shropshire
Macmillan gave us a list of alternatives and we decided on a Macmillan sanctioned DIY Mighty Hike. Emails went back and forth and the venue, the Long Mynd in Shropshire, and date, the 2nd of July, seemed to emerge organically. Francis was charged with plotting a route, Mike offered to provide breakfast and I volunteered to drive us there.

Onto the Long Mynd

The Avengers Assemble

So bright and early (before 9.30, anyway) we were in the Carding Mill Valley car park ready to haul on our boots - once we had eaten breakfast.

Mike, Francis and Alison. In this picture I am represented by my boots

I have so far failed to mention two important people. This was now a DIY walk so we were no longer limited to the original three. We had collected Alison C in All Stretton where she and non-walking partner Morgan were staying in an air-bnb. Anne arrived a few minutes after the photo above accompanied by a large punnet of ‘surplus’ strawberries.

So, full of oatcakes, bacon and strawberries, and after a Team MDC photo in Macmillan shirts…

Team MDF. Photo Alison using Francis' camera

…our enhanced and improved team of 5 set off towards the long, steep path onto the Long Mynd. Francis and Anne led the way – I was in front of them to take the photo but never found myself in that position again.

Anne and Francis lead the climb

The Long Mynd – A Little Scene Setting

Part of the Shropshire Hills Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, the Long Mynd is an upland plateau around 500m in elevation some 11km long and 5km wide. It sits on what Geologists call the ‘Longmyndian Supergroup’ – two guitars, bass, drums and a 6,000m thick slab of late Precambrian rock. Whether the Long Mynd is truly long depends on what you chose to compare it with, the ‘Mynd’ is derived from a Brythonic word for mountain (c.f. Welsh ‘mynydd’).

We walked from the Carding Mill Valley, across the Long Mynd, then back to All Stretton

We started on the eastern edge where the Carding Mill Valley is one of a number of steep, narrow valleys incised into the escarpment. Once you are on the plateau the land descends rather more gently in the general direction of Wales. You know what to expect from a walk on the Long Mynd, though the extended vertical axis on the profile produced by Anne’s app (right) does make it look more alarming than it actually is.

The Ascent

I do not mind a stiff climb at the start of the day, but I am never going to be the first to the top. Engage bottom gear and plod works for me and I am grateful for the patience of faster walkers. On this occasion, extra patience was required. While trying to cope with walking poles and camera I contrived to engage a hitherto unknown setting where the camera insisted on taking one-second videos rather than photographs. I spent some time trying to remove this unwanted function instead of walking. Mike kindly waited while I faffed around.

Mike waits patiently - a still from a one-second video

When I finally got on with it, I realised that the weather forecast had been unduly pessimistic; it was going to be a very fine day, but at least this climb would be over before it became too warm.

Near the top we encountered two groups from a school in Ludlow on their Duke of Edinburgh Bronze Award expeditions. They were full of energy but unsure about their navigation as such groups so often are. I must have passed through an age when I had both energy and navigation skills, but it was fleeting, at best.

On the Top

The top is a plateau, but not a flateau. The path called Mott’s Road on the map continues to rise, albeit more gently, for a distance yet.

Energetic youth on Mott's Road

At the end we turned left onto a track heading for Pole Bank, at 516m the Long Mynd’s highest point. We passed a watering hole favoured by the resident ponies owned by the Long Mynd Commoners…

Wild ponies, Long Mynd

…and enjoyed the view westwards across the plateau. Pollen evidence suggests that trees here began to be replaced by grassland in the Bronze Age though the earliest written evidence of the management of common grazing is from the 13th Century.

Looking west on the Long Mynd

We reached the shooting butts where the path meets The Burway, one of two ancient tracks across the Long Mynd, now tarmac-ed but narrow. The leaders of the D of E Award groups were parked there checking off their charges as they came through.

Crossing the Burway, we turned half right onto a section of the Cross Britain Way, a description if the route, not the state of the nation. Not particularly well known (not yet, anyway), the walk was created (appropriately under the circumstances) to raise money for Macmillan Cancer Support. Stretching 550km from Boston on the North Sea to Barmouth on the Welsh coast it includes a remarkable variety of countryside.

Once out of sight of the car park we paused for coffee.

Coffee break - in this picture I am represented by my glasses case

A Gentle Descent to Bridges

Refreshed we continued along the Cross Britain Way as it began to slowly descend…

The Cross Britain Way starts to descend

…giving views into the gentler valleys on the western side.

Valley on the western side of the Long Mynd

The descent took a while to become persistent, …

On the Cross Britain Way

… but as we dropped off the plateau, we began to encounter more trees and sheep.

Leaving the Long Mynd plateau

And, at the hamlet of Coates, a minor road. Here we re-encountered a D of E Award group still mithering about navigation and seeking advice from a local.

The last kilometre of the descent to Bridges and its eponymous pub was on tarmac, along a shady, and occasionally quite steep lane.

A shady lane down to Bridges

The Bridges, Bridges

The Bridges has recently re-opened under new management. There are plans afoot but for the moment they have a limited menu at highish prices. They are already growing their own salad vegetables and Alison, Anne and I ate fresh crisp leaves, baby broad beans and courgettes, crumbed (real) Lancashire cheese with a well-made vinaigrette. It stood out among pub salads. Francis having harumphed at the prices on line, brought a packed lunch but was too polite to eat it sitting in the pub garden, a pleasant shady spot beside a stream.

Alison, me and Anne waiting for lunch in the Bridges Garden
Photo by Francis, so for once I am representing myself

Beside the Darnford Brook and up the Betchcott Hills

Bridges lives up to its name sitting on the confluence of the Darnford Brook and an apparently unnamed stream which join to form the River East Onny. It is all very small scale, and at the first of a cluster of minor road junctions we left the Cross Britain Way and joined the Shropshire Way.

Onto the Shropshire Way

The route soon leaves the tarmac to follow the line of the Darnford Brook…

Shropshire Way above the Darnford Brook

…a minor stream crossed by a few bridges of unknown antiquity.

The Darnford Brook and old bridge: photo Alison

The path varies in size, but sticks to the brook, passing the hamlet of Ratlinghope – which the Shropshire Star assures me is pronounced ‘Rachup.’ – on the far side of the stream.

Continuing beside the Darnford Brook

A kilometre or so later the path continued to follow the line of the stream while rising gently along the flank of Ratlinghope Hill. At first we had ignored the rising path but realised our error when the streamside path petered out. Others had clearly made the same mistake as many boots had climbed the bank to the correct path. As he ascended, I noticed that Francis was not looking his usual sure-footed self.

The gently rising path up Ratlinghope Hill

We continued to climb gently but steadily with Francis, normally in the lead, taking up the unaccustomed position of back-marker. When he started to tail off, we called a halt. Francis had missed his lunch and was running on empty, so we sat beside the path in pleasant sunshine while he filled himself with water and sandwiches.

Francis works on his recovery plan. In this photo I am represented by my pack and poles

With Francis sufficiently revived, we continued the climb to the end of Ratlinghope Hill.

Approaching the end of Ratlinghope Hill

And found our way into a fold known as Golden Valley. Climbing the valley brought us to the Portway – the other ancient track across the Long Mynd, and the main ridge of the Betchcott Hills. It had been a long, gentle and almost effortless climb from Bridges at 240m up to 400m.

Looking down Golden Valley from the top

Golden Valley is obviously green, not gold, but on a warm sunny day it is easy to forget why it is so green. Alison’s picture of a lychen encrusted finger post reminded us we were lucky to have picked such a fine, dry day.

Lichen encrusted Finger post pointing up Golden Valley. Photo; Alison

Over Betchcott Hill and Other Nameless but Higher Summits

We took a brief break before passing through the gate onto the Portway and turning right toward the summit of Betchcott Hill only 14m above us and 450m distant.

A brief rest before going through the gate onto the Portway

Maybe I was a little naïve, but I believed that as the only named hill, and with a trig point to boot, this would be the highest point of the afternoon. Foolish fellow, had I been carrying a map I could have seen that following the Portway we would descend and then climb to 440m+ twice in the next two kilometres to reach a high point near a small wood called High Park.

Up and down on the Portway

I found the up and down on a wide straight path a little dull and hence arduous, though it was redeemed by views to the north across flat agricultural land to where The Wrekin lurked in the mist.

Looking across the plain to The Wrekin

Descent to All Stretton, Tea and Cakes

We started to descend….

Starting the descent

….soon reaching a broad green sward; a delight to walk over. In front of us was a sharp drop into the Stretton Valley and beyond that Caer Caradoc (one of several alleged locations of Caradoc’s last stand against the invading Romans) and to the left the lower ridge of The Lawley.

Across a sward towards Caer Caradoc

At one point Alison and Francis seemed to be engaged on a socially distanced march towards a precipice.

A socially distanced march towards a precipice? Photo Anne

There was, of course, no precipice - a minor road makes a relatively gentle descent into All Stretton - but Alison had suggested that for us there was a better route down a narrow valley to our right which would deliver us to exactly the right spot in All Stretton.

Turning right we crossed the sward and reached what was little more than a crack in the grassland. I looked into it. ‘That’s a vertical rockface,’ I said to myself ‘We can’t go down there.’

Francis, now fully recovered, stepped forward and started the descent like he was going down his stairs at home. Apparently, it was not vertical! We all had to follow, some with alacrity, others (me and I think Anne who had been notably unfazed by anything else the day had thrown at her) with more trepidation. Walking poles are, of course, sports equipment and thus entirely different from a walking stick. I find them invaluable in hilly terrain, providing extra power uphill, and downhill braking (my knees announced their retirement from that job two decades ago). Here, though, I used them primarily to maintain my balance - just like two old man’s walking sticks.

For reasons of self-preservation, I took no photos until past the difficult bit and the path, though still rough and narrow, was no longer precipitous.

After the difficult part of the descent

Once we had reached the bottom it was a simple stroll into All Stretton arriving almost immediately at Alison’s B&B where partner Morgan had laid on cakes, strawberries and tea, God bless her.

An easy walk into All Stretton to finish

She also took the team photo, Mike, Francis and me in our Macmillan shirts, Alison in her Kilimanjaro shirt (a slightly larger hill she climbed a few years back) and Anne in a University of Sheffield Swimming Club shirt. While we had been walking her son, Ed, had been participating in a cross-channel relay swim as a member of that club. They started early and finished as we did – congratulations to Ed and the rest of the team.

Team Photo

The training walks had paid off and it had been a wonderful day: good company, fine weather, the beauty of the Long Mynd and over £800 raised for Macmillan Cancer Relief. A big thank you to all those who made donations.