Walking on sunshine

Although we've been back from our holiday for over a month now, in my mind it's not over until I've finished blogging about it, as revisiting all the things we did is almost like having a second holiday.

I'll be sad when it's done, so I'm trying not to rush things.

By Saturday, it was clear that both the rain and the clouds had packed their bags and were off elsewhere, leaving us with nothing but sunshine and blue skies on the horizon. We couldn't believe our luck!

During our first week, we'd had quite a busy schedule, so we decided to take it easy and not to venture too far from our cottage.

Bishop’s Castle in South Shropshire is a small market town about six and a half miles from where we were staying. It's in the middle of unspoilt hill country, close to the Welsh border.

At first sight, it looks like a sleepy little town, where peace and tranquility are the order of the day.
Indeed, time seems to go slower here, which might be due to the fact that St. John's Church has a one handed clock, a leftover from the days before we needed to know the time down to the minute.

Do not be deceived though, as there is life in this quiet backwater yet. Back in March 2017, The Times described it as pretty, down to earth and crafty: it's got more than its fair share of arts, crafts and independent shops.

Bishop’s Castle is also a centre for real ale, with The Six Bells micro-brewery as well as the oldest working brewery in Britain, the Three Tuns.

We walked, literally, up and down the High Street: it has a gradient of 1 in 6, with the 18th century town hall at the top. We stopped to browse in the town's one and only charity shop, where I managed to unearth an Indian made cotton sundress in a cool shade of blue with a white print, as well as a pale pink cardigan.

Then we made our way to the church, where we sat on a bench in the churchyard to eat the picnic we'd brought. As one does! Well, it was the only shady place with benches!

We made sure not to outstay our welcome, though, as there would be a Church Fête later that day. Having watched too many episodes of Midsomer Murders, we were a bit wary, as in the series the most gruesome murders happen during events like these. Better not take any chances ...

If you think Bishop's Castle sounds quiet, nearby Clun, a picturesque village just under six miles away, is even quieter.

In "A Shropshire Lad", A.E. Housman describes it as "the quietest place under the sun".

Imagine our surprise when finding its car park overflowing! It turned out there was a "gardens open" day and people had flocked to the village from far and wide. If we'd been there earlier, we might have joined in, but by this time we weren't really feeling up to visiting the sixteen participating gardens.

We parked in a lane, which ultimately led to Clun Castle, its ruin perched dramatically on two ice age mounds overlooking the village.

From the castle, we walked through undulating fields to the village, where we tumbled into the Bridge Tearoom and had huge cups of cappuccino and the most enormous scones.

I was asked by a lady in Bishop's Castle whether my frock was vintage, and indeed it was one my Diolen delights! It would be the last time I'd be wearing one of these, as the temperature was definitely on the rise!

After a quick turn of the village, we called it a day, and drove back to our cottage, where we sipped cool drinks sitting on our little terrace, with me wearing the frock I'd bought in Bishop's Castle.

We geared back into action on Sunday, retracing our steps to Church Stretton, the town we'd visited on our first day. The rain that day had scuppered our plans so that we were left with some unfinished business.

Thus, wearing my jumpsuit for the occasion, we went for a walk in the town's hidden, and thus often overlooked treasure, even though it's only a stone's throw from the town centre.

Rectory Wood is nestled between the town the and wild expanse of the Long Mynd.

The park at its heart was laid out in the late 18th century, its design influenced by Capability Brown. The well-preserved remains comprise woodland walks, a stream and artificial pool, and the ruins of a pumping house, summerhouse and ice house.

When it was voted the least stressful spot in England in a study by The Independent in 2009, surely they must have had this tranquil pool shaded by ancient yews in mind!

Steps leading up a steep hill eventually emerged onto a path leading to a minor road. When I noticed the Cattle Grid sign, it dawned on me that this was the very road we'd driven on in the rain, the one going straight over the Long Mynd. I have since read that this is called The Burway, which is the highest public road in Shropshire and definitely not for the faint-hearted: it is featured on a website about scary and dangerous roads!

Crossing the road, we continued on a path which would ultimately descend to the National Trust owned Carding Mill Valley. There's a car park which charges £ 4,50 a day, a vast tearoom, which is only open during the weekends and an information hut with leaflets on walks starting from this point.
On Summer Sundays, the place can be quite busy, as you can see from the number of parked cars. Weirdly enough, quite a lot of people were sunbathing on blankets they'd put out behind their cars.

After refreshments in the tearoom, we walked back to Church Stretton through the woods, at one point crossing a stream by way of Dead Man's Bridge, an old gravestone!

Monday morning saw us visiting a town recommended by Vix for a charity shopping session. 

I almost left behind a gorgeous maxi frock as I thought it would be too small, but I'm glad I decided to try it on anyway, as it's a perfect fit, as well as the perfect length. Don't worry, you will get to see it in a next post! 

After lunch at the local Wetherspoon's, we returned to our heat trap of a car, for the short drive to a nearby National Trust property.

Hidden in the midst of suburbia and surrounded by encroaching housing estates, Sunnycroft is a rare survivor of a bygone age: a late Victorian suburban villa, built in 1880 and extended in 1890. 

The house, with its 5-acre mini estate, is a perfect example of the grand country house lifestyle the emerging middle class of the industrial age were trying to emulate - on a much smaller scale, obviously.

The house itself is approached through the majestic Wellingtonia Avenue (above left).

Visits are by timed tickets and we plonked ourselves down in one of the deckchairs on the lawn, where various lawn games, including croquet and skittles, were set out. Too hot to play, though!

When the time for our house visit arrived, we were first ushered into the billiard room, very fashionable in the late Victorian period, where a volunteer regaled us, and one other couple, on the history of the house and the people who once lived there, especially the Lander family, who bought the house in 1910.

Then, we were set free to explore the house, which we did at our usual leisurely pace, taking time to chat with some of the friendly and very knowledgeable volunteers.

The house contains a wonderful and varied collection of objects belonging to the Lander family, through the Victorian and Edwardian era, right up to 1997 when the house was bequeathed to the National Trust. 

Highlights include the family medicine cabinet complete with original contents, and other items of domestic life of the early 20th century.

We kept running into the billiard room volunteer, who had apparently taken a shine to us, and rather annoyingly found it necessary to accompany us, almost literally breathing down our necks in his rush to explain the use of various objects.

Having toured the house and finally made our escape from "the breather", we ended our visit with delicious cakes in the Edwardian tearoom. The lemon drizzle cake was particularly yummy!

My next post will be another non-holiday one, where I'm struggling to find things to wear in the continuing heatwave!