I really ought to draw another of my dreadful maps. But I’m tucked up under a duvet and feeling too slothful to find pen and paper. So here’s a description instead.
From Clun I headed east towards Craven Arms, and then it was up onto Wenlock Edge, a marvellous 30 kilometre long limestone ridge. I stayed overnight at a very hospitable pottery (also a b&b) in Much Wenlock. And from there it was down off the ridge to the river Severn, at Ironbridge. It was strange to meet the Severn again, so much smaller than when when I last saw it, crossing over the motorway bridge from near Bristol to Chepstow. Here it bubbles along between wooded slopes, and there are canoeists. Very different from the wide expanses of the estuary much further downstream. And of course every one of the many streams and rivers I have passed, crossed, and walked alongside in the 10 day’s walking since then have been busy making their way down to this great river.
Over the last couple of days I’ve chatted with several very friendly people. I met a farmer out giving an injection to a poorly lamb. His dog slept beside his quad bike as we talked for 15 minutes or so, about ankle operations, weather, lambing, my walk, and the like. At Ironbridge I got chatting to a local walker who was out for a quick march through the woods. She was full of encouragement. Hello Chrissy if you are reading this.
And then whilst eating my lunch in a pub I overheard phrases like “end to end…” So I said hello and discovered another length of Britain walker, named Ian. It turned out we’d walked exactly the same stage yesterday. I’d spent the day thinking how few people there were out walking on Wenlock Edge. It’ll be interesting to see how many other End to End walkers I meet as I progress north.
In other news, everything seemed to suddenly turn green today. Amazing how it happens so suddenly. Blink and you’d miss it. Also, I’ve adopted a bad habit. All Emily’s fault. An American bad habit. Butter in my porridge. Very yummy.