Following the success of our birthday bimble last year Amanda and I booked a cottage in Shropshire for this years jaunt. Except; when I checked on Google Maps; it wasn’t close to any of the attractions we wanted to visit. In fact, it wasn’t close to anything, not even a village within walking distance! It literally was in the middle of nowhere at the end of one and a half miles of a very narrow twisting lane with ten foot hedges on either side. Never mind, it looked cosy and it was cheap since we were going out of season.
The week of my birthday came around and with it came the snow. The first major snowfall this winter, traffic disrupting snow, trains not running due to it being the wrong snow, everything grinding to a halt snow, it just keeps coming snow. We kept an eye on the weather all week, hoping; like last year; it wouldn’t last. But it hung around and I was beginning to give up hope of getting away. Then, on the Thursday, the big thaw saw off most of the snow as the day wore on and although Amanda’s train was late it was, fortunately, still running. That night we checked the weather on every app and website we could find before going to bed ever hopeful we’d be off in the morning.
Only…..it snowed heavily overnight and we awoke to a thick white blanket over everything. We weren’t going anywhere that day. Amanda sulked around the house all morning before going across to visit Mother. Whilst she was out I contacted the owner of the cottage who told me that there was no way we’d be able to get to the cottage. Apparently it was just about passable in a 4×4 but certainly not a Smart car. He assured me he would let me know when the lane had cleared. I broke the news to Amanda that we’d been advised not to go and we’d have to see what the next day brought.
My birthday and the first words I heard were:
“Are we going today? Are we going on our holiday today?“ as Amanda bounced onto the bed.
I rolled over and peered out of the window. Bright sunshine and hardly any snow to be seen, only a few lingering patches lurking in shady gutters. After checking all the weather reports I decided that perhaps we might give it a go. If the worse comes to the worse, I reasoned, we could always check into the Premier Inn in Oswestry. It took most of the morning to jenga everything into the back of the Smart and since we hadn’t gone the day before all the girls came up throughout the morning to wish me a happy birthday so it was gone 1pm before we got away.
My original plan had been to take the country roads across the Pennines stopping off at Hack Green Secret Nuclear Bunker but despite the better weather most of them were still closed to traffic so I chose to keep to the main A roads. After a quick re-plot of the route I saw that we could still manage to visit Hack Green. We made it by the skin of our teeth. It was as we got out of the car I discovered I’d left my nice new winter jacket at home! Which, along with the now foul weather put me in an even fouler mood. Instead of being smartly dressed I looked a proper dog’s dinner as I walked into the museum.
We came out of the museum to be greeted by icy, driving rain which turned into sleet then snow as we neared our destination. We stopped off at a Tescos for supplies for our first couple of days where one bag of shopping cost us nearly a third of our budget! It would have been cheaper to eat out.
The sky was dark and heavy with the promise of more snow; which had now turned from wet splatters to thick swirling flakes; as we reached the lane to the cottage. With a sense of foreboding I turned into the lane and although it was passable there was a ridge of snow along the middle which, at first, was quite slushy but became more solid the higher we went. My senses told me to turn round when I could and head back into town but, against my better judgement, I pushed relentlessly on.
We finally rounded a bend and spotted the sign for the cottage. Breathing a sigh of relief I turned into the driveway. And promptly got stuck on a deep snow ridge; about ten inches as it turned out; a few yards in. The problem being that Smart cars are super narrow with little clearance underneath and we had literally snowploughed the stuff until it was packed solid beneath us.
We tried clearing the it away front and back but try as I might, the car was going nowhere. Bugger! We were only about 50 yards, if that, from the cottage. We decided to walk up there and see if anyone was around or, if worse came to worse, get into the cottage to have a pee before dragging our cases up from the car. We tramped through knee deep snow to what we thought was the front door of the cottage where we couldn’t find the key box. We searched everywhere around the door, scooped snow off the planters, lifted doormats, all to no avail. I was beginning to think we were going to have to spend the night in the car when we realised that we were actually at the back of the cottage. Back we tramped through the snow, cursing and complaining very loudly, round to the front of the row of cottages. And still we couldn’t find the key box. Amanda eventually spotted it on the railing of next door’s steps just as a very nice young chap came out to see what all the fuss was about. We told him what had happened and as luck would have it he was a very helpful young chap as well, with a 4×4 and a shovel; who informed us that we were lucky to get as far as we had as they had only just cleared in case the lady next door who was due to have her baby that week needed an ambulance. 30-40 minutes later; after splattering Amanda with filthy wet snow as she helped push the car over the last bit of the ridge; I finally pulled into the cottage parking space where we hurriedly unpacked the car, threw everything into the lounge and put the kettle on. I think we were way too tired to enjoy our dinner properly and I know that, after a couple of glasses of Crémant laced with Chambord I, for one, was well and truly ready for bed that night.
The following morning, bleary eyed, I opened the curtains covering the little skylight window in my bedroom, stood on tiptoe and peered out. All that bloody white stuff had disappeared overnight. Amanda came in with coffee and informed me that she’d already had a stroll down the lane and most of the snow had gone with just a small patch remaining where we had got stuck. After getting dressed I wanted to check for myself so off we went and flattened and narrowed the ridge of snow to allow the Smart to get over it. Whether it would manage the ford, now a six foot wide raging torrent, was another thing.
Since it was now nearing lunchtime on a Sunday there seemed little point in sightseeing round a town so we decided to visit Powys Castle for the afternoon. On the way I happened to mention that our cousin Miranda lived in that area. No sooner than I’d said it Amanda had messaged her but she actually lived a little further away than I thought.
Powys Castle is a huge red brick edifice sitting atop a hill overlooking a wide shallow valley; which was waterlogged during our visit, due to all the melt water and rain; and the pristine gardens. Not many photos as it’s not allowed inside the castle.
We followed the designated route through the rooms of the castle and had just entered the Kaffe Fassett exhibition when Amanda was pounced upon by what she thought was a strange lady who turned out to be Miranda. She said it would have been a pity to miss seeing us so she had jumped in the car and come up to meet us. We spent a happy hour or so re-visiting all the rooms and strolling around the gardens until rain and time stopped play.
On the Monday we had decided to have a look at Shrewsbury. I had looked at parking whilst planning our holiday so had found the best Park and Ride for us. Amanda wanted to park closer in but I prevailed. I prefer to use the Park and Ride; no hassles of finding my way round the one way systems in an unfamiliar town and no extortionate parking fees; just the bus fare. We hopped off the bus near the centre of town. It was raining and cold and we had no idea which way to go. As it was lunchtime we thought it would be better to eat first and look later. Amanda had looked up a few places the night before so, because we liked the name, off we shlumped to find The Loopy Shrew, which turned out to be a most excellent choice. We both chose the fish pie, a light pastry case filled to the brim with little morsels of salmon and smoked fish in a creamy sauce and topped with fluffy mashed potato, delicious. I wish I’d taken a photo but I was too eager to tuck in.
On the bus back to the car park we both agreed that we’d have to return for another visit. Not so bad considering the weather had put paid to the the two days we’d got planned for walking Offa’s Dyke.
With the better weather on the Tuesday we donned our walking boots.The sun was shining and the daffodils were dancing gaily in the blustery breeze as we set off on a very pretty walk along the towpath which took us over the aqueduct and through the tunnel at Chirk.
After a brief altercation we took the road over the top of the tunnel back to the aqueduct where I had a highly embarrassing moment when I went arse over tit falling off the rear edge of the pavement into the grass verge, narrowly missing a huge pile of dog poo! I jumped up so fast I went all light headed and had to lie on a bench for a good few minutes to come round. My left knee is still feeling the effects as the huge bruise slowly fades away. By the time we returned to the car the weather had taken it’s usual turn for the worse so instead of driving up to Pontecysyllte we drove the short distance to Chirk Castle.
As we walked up to the entrance the rain turned to heavy stinging sleet and although we did feel a little sorry for the bloke waking down to the car park in only his shorts and t-shirt, he should have known better at this time of year!
Chirk castle is a fairytale of a place and we really wished we’d gone in steampunk gear, especially since photography was allowed. The grand staircase is an amazing space with oodles of posing potential. We explored the rooms and admired the exhibits with no silly one way systems to hinder us as we made our way to another amazing space, a long gallery just perfect for ladies to stroll it’s length and back on a rainy day. The door at the end of the gallery opens onto another posing opportunity, a gorgeous narrow minstrels gallery at the end of which are stairs leading down to the lounge below. We thought it would be great for abseiling if we lived there as kids.
From the grandeur of the house we made our way across the courtyard to the dungeons where we played with some chain mail and armour. We even found some that looked like it was meant for Harry! As we were coming out of the dungeons and just about to head up the tower stairs to the courtroom the fire alarm went off. Staff and visitors pored out of every doorway to stand in the rain whilst one poor chap had to run down into the dungeons and up the tower before the alarm could be silenced and we could continue our visit.
It was snowing heavily as we left the castle with visibility down to a few yards and I was doing my wittering thing about getting snowed in, or out, of the cottage. Nevertheless I suggested we call in at The Poachers pub we’d parked near that morning and have something to eat. Another excellent meal. Amanda said the lasagne, which came with a huge garlic bread and, thankfully, no chips, was perfect, nice and gooey. I had the steak and ale pie which actually tasted of ale and came with lashings of gravy. By the time we left the snow had stopped and everywhere was drying up.
As the weather had turned miserable again by the next morning we took our second trip into Shrewsbury. We fully intended to follow the Darwin trail but got a little sidetracked. Twice.
After taking the obligatory photos of the Darwin Statue we entered the castle, which houses a Regimental Museum. We got what amounted to a private guided tour courtesy of a retired navy bod who took a shining to us and let us play with a couple of rifles. Boy are they heavy; Amanda couldn’t even pull the trigger on one or reload the other!
We mooched along the path through the grounds which led us to a strange little tower atop the outer walls. From up there we could see why there was a flood warning in place.
Out of the castle and a short walk to St Mary’s Church via the old nursing home and infirmary which are now posh flats and a shopping arcade full of upmarket nail bars, hairdressers and beauty therapists. Shrewsbury must have a lot of vain women.
St Mary’s Church is a lovely little church dating from Saxon times. It has some amazing stained glass windows and an incredible history. Once again we got a very interesting private tour and talk from a very knowledgeable volunteer and spent much more time there than we had anticipated.
Our next and final stop was the museum which had a couple of interesting exhibits, the best and most intriguing to us being the two mechanical crows sitting atop a large trunk locked with three huge padlocks.
By the time we were chucked out of the museum at closing time we were getting a little peckish so we found our way back, via a fabric shop, to The Loopy Shrew where we made up our own afternoon tea with lemon tart and a well needed warming cup of frothy coffee.
Thursday turned out to be another rainy day. The sort of rain you would really prefer not to have to go out in but as it was our last full day and we really wanted to go to the Pontycysyllte Aqueduct and Llangollen we had little choice but to brave the weather. We decided to make up a picnic with the remains of our food, which included filling our thermal mugs with hot chicken noodle soup. Only Amanda managed to lose her’s when she tipped her mug upside down to check for leaks. The steam had obviously built up some pressure because there was an explosive pop as the lid shot into the sink followed by most of the contents. She was not a happy bunny I can tell you. Since it was raining heavily we decided to go into Llangollen first, where Amanda hoped she’d be able to pick up some hot soup. In the end she ended up with a huge Oggie; which is basically a Welsh Cornish pastie; whilst I chose a samphire and goats cheese quiche. Leaning over the bridge watching the engorged river pass beneath us in a torrent of spray, swirls and eddies, we lamented that the town, especially out of season and in the pouring rain, doesn’t seem to have much to offer; the heritage railway was closed; the boat trips hadn’t started running yet and the only shops were the usual tourist trap outlets and craft centres, although we did buy some earrings at one tucked down a side lane. Desultorily we returned to the car and drove up to the aqueduct where we sat in the desolate wastelands of the near deserted car park and ate our late lunch. Someone up there must have taken pity on us because by the time we’d eaten the rain had stopped.
Typically, the morning we were leaving was warm and sunny, a true spring day. We were up and packed early ready for a day round Ironbridge before heading off home.
We thoroughly enjoyed our visit to Blists Hill Victorian Town where we did finally manage to don our steampunk gear and snap a few pics. Fortunately the weather stayed nice until late afternoon.
We mustn’t forget the wee little piggies, it is why we went after all!
And finally the setting sun through The Iron Bridge