Day 31: Shrewsbury

Distance: 14.3 miles
Sunburns: 2 arms and a neck

Yet another perfect day for walking. We left Coalbrookdale through a beautiful little gorge.


We strayed away from the River Severn with plans to meet up with it at the end of the day in Shrewsbury. I recently learned that only the Welsh say Shrewsbury like "taming of the". It should be pronounced like "shrow, shrow, shrow your boat".
Although the day was beautiful, there was a tinge of sadness. I'll let Al explain.

Not real sadness so much as loss. The story starts with me (Al, now) spending weeks poring over dozens of Ordnance Survey maps, sorting possibilities out for our route. The left side of map 242 stood out, right from the start. West of the A4169 and south of the M54, the Shropshire plain is like a beautiful pine board with a deep oval knot. The knot lines are contours, showing a magnificent prominence, towering over the countryside: The Wrekin. Google spoke of the magnificent views. I wanted it. Even though it meant a four mile diversion, and an extra thousand feet of climbing. I highlighted two routes, one including The Wrekin and one without. I knew I'd need to talk Dawn into it.



In Bridgnorth, we were chatting with our hostess, Allison, and we learned that she was Shropshire born and bred. What a lucky break! I knew from Google that the people of Shropshire love The Wrekin! "When you see The Wrekin, that's when you know you're home", they'd say. Dawn and Allison had rapport, so I made a strategic decision to bring up the question of the best route by bringing Allison into the conversation. "We're thinking of climbing The Wrekin on our way to Shrewsbury", sez me. "Great idea, right?"


"Ha ha ha ha", she answered. Her laughter went several levels deep. At the first level was my coarse Canadian accent and inability to pronounce simple words. "It's not Wrekin, it's Wrekin" (like in "rekindle", not like in "Wreckin' Crew"). She also corrected my Shrewsbury pronunciation, as I pronounced it like a Welshman.


But her critique went deeper. "It's just a bump" she said. "You're walking all the way to Shrewsbury, why would you climb all the way up there?".

"But I thought people from Shropshire loved The Wrekin", I countered, pronouncing it correctly this time.

"We do. If you had a free Sunday afternoon, then, sure, go climb The Wrekin. But to go out of your way up a bump, and then just to get a view over a plain - it makes no sense." Dawn nodded, agreeing with such sage advice. I could see I was backed into a corner. So today, we walked right up to The Wrekin footpath - and continued past it, leaving the climb for another day. Dawn was happy to avoid an extra four miles and a climb, and did her crazy pole swinging dance.


I know it was the right decision. An extra couple of hours, and a big climb, to see basically the same view we had on the Cotswold Way, would have been bad. But still, I felt some regret as we passed the trail by.

Two paths diverged in a yellow wood ...
And I took the one that did not lead up The Wrekin.



Let me just wipe up my tears....
Luckily, Al was able to pull himself together and continue our walk. We passed by the little village of Wroxeter which is located within the area once occupied by the Roman city of Viroconium Cornoviorum. Wroxeter is a tiny hamlet, while Viroconium was, at it's peak one of the largest cities in Britain with a population of more than 15,000. A portion of the baths has been excavated and includes the largest freestanding Roman ruins in Britain.


We couldn't walk around the ruins, since it's closed during the week this time of year, but we were able to see most of it from the lane. Viroconium was first established in 58 AD and remained as a settlement until the beginning of the 8th century! Down the road in the village, we stopped for lunch at the churchyard.


Interestingly, the oldest parts of the church were built from stones taken from the Roman ruins. Today the church is a redundant Church of England, which means it no longer has services but is still consecrated. It is under the care of the Churches Conservation Trust. Lucky for us, it was open. The font is made from a piece of column taken from the Roman ruins.


There were several tombs with effigies, the oldest of which was dated 1555.





It really is a beautiful church, and even though the town has dwindled, I'm glad it's being preserved.


The rest of the walk was a bit of a slog along busy B and A roads. (Thank god for the foot ways!)


But, as usual, there's always something to see.


This is Attingham Park, a former country home now owned by the National Trust. It took us ages to walk by it's walls! It's late and this is getting long, so you'll have to follow the link. There's a good picture of the whole thing. We only got a little peek at it.

Tomorrow we're off to Soulton Hall and another rest day. It feels like we're a couple of slackers, but I'm still looking forward to it!