Scaling Mountains (literally)

"Beginning is easy; continuing is hard"- Japanese

My legs ache but I am feeling such a smug sense of pride from Herculean efforts yesterday.

Wednesday night I went to bed in a fit of giggles after the chappie had me remove two spiders from the lounge. It was such a glorious role reversal. I expect to see him on a chair, hiding from a door mouse soon. We had about four hours sleep.

The sun was fated to almost shine on the chappie and me on Thursday. The car wheels spun on smooth tarmac as we made our way to Ironbridge, Much Wenlock and Church Stretton in Shropshire, part of rural England. We strolled around looking at the first iron bridge whilst I spotted an old fashioned sweet shop, where I carelessly purchased some sweet peanuts.

Our journey had been sparked by an article in the Observer newspaper that the handsome one had read about finding the most un-stressful place in England. The travel writer claimed he had found it in the woods in a Shropshire village. Being the distrusting folk we are we thought we would investigate the claim.

Much Wenlock is a village which, has a disproportionate amount of tourists. We settled down at the George and Dragon pub and I tucked into a hearty plate of locally handmade faggots, gravy, peas and chips. I didn't feel guilt for long as they proved to be most delicious. Found a bakery and the lad bought two Shrewsbury biscuits as they are a local delicacy too.

Much Wenlock has a ruined priory and we decided to tour it with the audio guide. Then we moved on to a smaller village.

Church Stretton has walkers passing through it. We stopped for a cream tea at a teahouse garden, which was superb. Then we went looking for the woods to walk in. Every single person we passed in the village greeted us. It was an absolute delight to be acknowledged. However, the laddie found a sun dried tomato on the pavement, reflecting the economic status of the village's occupants.

The footpath we chose wound it’s way through the woodland and then through bracken and blue slate. I felt the path become steeper and it became clear that I would have to walk on an incline. The incline got steeper and steeper; it made the hill walk I sometimes go on paltry by comparison.

The handsome one climbed ahead of me more quickly as I puffed, panted and sweated my way higher to the top of the hill/mountain. Parts of the walk had a sheer drop to them which was quite exhilarating. At the summit my fella disappeared. I walked onwards until I came to near the summit to be greeted by a group of wild horses grazing contentedly in the late sunshine.

Ten minutes later I was lying on my back on the springiest bed of grass, near a patch of purple heather my eyes shut feeling my body sink into the earth. When I opened my eyes the views were stunning. It was an idyll.

Photos to follow soon…