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Wolfie was sent to work in Shrewsbury this past weekend and not wanting to turn down a free trip, I decided to swiftly book the Monday off and join him. I had already planned to go to Manchester on Saturday evening, so I decided to get the last train to Shropshire from there. This left at 10:35pm and arrived in Shrewsbury, it's final destination, shortly after midnight. There, a rather frazzled looking Wolfie met me at the train station as he had been screwed over by his colleagues. This resulted in him having to do a full day of work on Saturday and facing the prospect of having to go and see the client on Sunday morning too. Understandably not happy, he needed some downtime so we tried to find a bar, only to discover that the vast majority in the town were closed. This was certainly the case for The Salopian Bar and Alf, but the bouncers outside the latter pointed us to a place called The Bull near the main station, which fortunately was open. It was a pretty standard boozer but wasn't full of the usual wankers you would get on a Saturday night, and they did have a couple of local ales at least. There was a drunk Liverpool fan who was shouting every so often about his team's success in the Champions League while an overweight lady sat near us and took her shoes off, exposing her rather fetching corgi socks, but the bar staff here were friendly and the atmosphere too, meaning we stayed until last orders at around 1:30am. This meant Wolfie didn't need to drink the beer that I had kindly brought for him from Manchester (he's actually drinking it as I write this).
I had had a fair bit to drink by this point, so we headed back to the hotel, which was slap bang in the middle of the city. There we decided to get some sleep as Wolfie wanted to be in and out of work as swiftly as possible on Sunday morning. This he managed to do without me really noticing as I just stayed in bed as Wolfie first got his complementary breakfast then drove the twenty minute roundtrip to the client. He had already prepped what he needed to do so he was back in the hotel shortly after 11am and after spending an hour in the room on his laptop tidying up some loose ends, I encouraged him to put his work away and at least spend half a day off.
Both my mother and my boss had recommended visiting Ludlow, about twenty miles south of Shrewsbury, telling us to go there during the daytime as there were more interesting sights. We had planned to take the train as the journey was just twenty-five minutes so you can imagine our dismay when we turned up to the railway station to discover rail replacement bus services. These were operating at a different schedule to the trains but fortunately the kindly steward held the bus back for us, meaning we set off immediately after we had purchased our tickets. This was just as well as the buses were only every hour or so and the journey itself was an hour, double the length of time it would have taken by rail. Still, at least we got to see a lot more rolling countryside and a couple of delightful market towns too, so it wasn't all bad. Anyway, we managed to arrive at Ludlow shortly before 2pm, which was to give us plenty of time to see the main sights in the town, although we were upset to discover that the Ludlow Brewery right next to the station closed at 4pm for some reason. Still, we got to try some of their beers later in the day as we saw a pub advertising them so we weren't to miss out.
Ludlow is a charming market town, with many of the buildings of Tudor style. Walking up the main street from the station and into the town itself, this only became more and more pronounced, with a number of small independent shops lending themselves to the street. This was very much a slice of rural England, typified by the bric-a-brac market at the heart of the main square. We were trying to find some lunch here but alas all there was was an unappetizing burger van, while with all of the delightful looking artisinal bakeries closed too, we ended up having to eat a packaged sandwich from Spar. Still, beggars can't be choosers I guess and swift noms meant we could head straight for the main sight - Ludlow Castle.
Built between 1066 and 1085 by Walter de Lacy, it was a key fortification on the Marches, the borderlands between England and Wales. Climbing to the top of the towers, you could see the strategic advantage of building the castle here, with the River Teme plunging off to one side. The views were also breathtaking, although slightly hampered by the typical English drizzle which only got increasingly more pronounced as we walked around the place. It was all largely in ruins, although the main structure of the castle was largely intact, with the round St Mary Magdalene chapel in the centre arguably being the most impressive sight. Of course, being a fur, I was more distracted by the giant red dragon sculpture guarding its nest of eggs, with one child insisting strongly to his father that he was not to touch it lest the dragon get angry. There was a sign saying so, but the child didn't quite believe the validity of this, caught between fantasy and common sense. There was a mischievous old lady who was watching on and who started talking to Wolfie about all of the technological trickery that could be employed to make the dragon seem more real.
There was a guy giving some other tourists an archeological tour of the castle and we overheard bits and pieces of his speech, which I'll admit I found quite fascinating. Aside from this though, we just had our smaller guides to go on, which proved more than sufficient for this delightful romp round. We were done inside forty-five minutes though and with the drizzle starting to become heavier, we decided to call off at the modest town museum near the main market square to dry off. This was a really small affair of only two rooms, detailing key moments in the town's history, as well as key exhibits on the geology of the area and life during the two world wars. Provinicial museums are usually a little dull but this was mercifully interesting, with the hoard of coins from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries being of particular interest. The lady on the front desk was also really talkative and told us a number of interesting facts about Ludlow, not to mention sharing with us a few recommendations. These included walking down Broad Street and looking at the vast array of differing architecutre - which we managed to do - and also strolling by the river to take in the castle's strategic vantage point. Alas we didn't have time to do this. The history of Broad Street was interesting in itself, with the Wheatsheaf Inn, which now occupies what was the jail inside the town walls, being the only one of nine pubs still remaining here dating from the eighteenth century.
Another one of her recommendations was to see the Parish Church of St Laurence, the main church, which was another wonder and full of interesting things including the place where Arthur, Prince of Wales's heart now lies. He was one of the Princes In The Tower who died in 1502 at the age of fifteen. The sun had come out by this point, casting some beautiful shades through the intricate stained glass windows, which were the highlight of the church. After a fifteen minute look around and having been on our feet for a good two hours or so, we then decided to call off at the pub next to the museum, which was opposite the old corn market. This was situated under a clock-topped stone building with archways leading to the selling area underneath. On this now was a guy selling craft beer but alas we did not get the opportunity to talk to him as some American was boring him about the Pacific Northwest. Still, we did get to try six local brews including three from the Ludlow Brewing Company and one from the Salopian Brewery in the bar next to the Museum. I had already requested a pint, which the barmaid had started pouring, before realising you could get a tasting tray of six thirds of all the real ales they had on tap. This was served in a Yorkshire Pudding tray for some reason, but it did the trick. As we were carrying the beers over to the table, an elderly gentleman with a black dog took particular interest as he fished out his handkerchief to blow his nose, dropping most of the tissue on the unsuspecting dog's head. As he left, he asked us how we could remember rating so many beers, at which point I told him about the Untappd app. The friendliness of the locals was a strong factor in Ludlow as two young gentlemen, one of whom was giivng relationship advice to the other, starting recommending other beer places for us in the town. The Bloody Bay, named after a Grand National winner, was the main one to experience as they have a strict no phones policy and only brew beers from recipes dating from 1885. This promised to be an experience so after we had explored Broad Street, we stuck our noses in.
The place was very barren, almost ramshackle, and the no technology rule was correct. Indeed, the place had very much a Victorian feel about it but the beer was good - the stout in particular had a distinctive taste - and the barman was friendly. Indeed, upon hearing we weren't local, he corralled all of his regulars into giving us recommendations for good bars in Shrewsbury which was nice. Alas, we didn't manage to get to any. Still, it was a good way to round off the day, with a view out of the windows which wouldn't have changed much through the years. Wolfie in particular was in wonder at this. After finishing our ales and pork scratchings, we noticed we still had another half hour to kill before we needed to get back to the train station to get our bus, so we stuck around for another half before heading back. Suffice to say, the final fifteen minutes back to Shrewsbury on that bus were quite desperate from a urination perspective and we were glad to get back to the station where we could relieve ourselves.
We ended up getting back to Shrewsbury at 8:30pm, some two hours later than intended, and it's one of those towns that just closes on a Sunday. However, after some diligent Google work, we found a bar that was still serving food - The Loopy Shrew. This turned out to be quite a find as not only did they do local real ales but their two course Sunday lunch menu was still on and it was fantastic. We both had parfait starters and a roast beef main, with the food very much received as we were a little tipsy. We had also had little food to eat all day and were generally hungry, so it was a very nice way to round off the day. On the way back to the hotel though we did stop off at The Salopian Bar to try one of their beers, even getting discount for being CAMRA members (which is a rarity these days as we rarely go to real ale pubs). It was incredibly dead, with the barman telling us that they had been rammed for The Champions League Final the night before. Indeed there was something of a sporty theme, but the place was pleasant. I would have happily stayed but Wolfie had more work the next day and I was starting to feel the effects of alcohol so we headed back to the hotel just before 11pm. Here we caught a poignant documentary about the last days of Freddie Mercury, which made you think hard about the stigma of AIDS and the LGBT community in the Eighties. It was incredibly sad, particularly as the press had a lot to answer for, but at least attitudes have changed somewhat since then. IT was a fascinating watch though and I couldn't not watch the end, meaning we headed to bed a little later than intended. Still, it was early enough not to cause an issue.
I had had a fair bit to drink by this point, so we headed back to the hotel, which was slap bang in the middle of the city. There we decided to get some sleep as Wolfie wanted to be in and out of work as swiftly as possible on Sunday morning. This he managed to do without me really noticing as I just stayed in bed as Wolfie first got his complementary breakfast then drove the twenty minute roundtrip to the client. He had already prepped what he needed to do so he was back in the hotel shortly after 11am and after spending an hour in the room on his laptop tidying up some loose ends, I encouraged him to put his work away and at least spend half a day off.
Both my mother and my boss had recommended visiting Ludlow, about twenty miles south of Shrewsbury, telling us to go there during the daytime as there were more interesting sights. We had planned to take the train as the journey was just twenty-five minutes so you can imagine our dismay when we turned up to the railway station to discover rail replacement bus services. These were operating at a different schedule to the trains but fortunately the kindly steward held the bus back for us, meaning we set off immediately after we had purchased our tickets. This was just as well as the buses were only every hour or so and the journey itself was an hour, double the length of time it would have taken by rail. Still, at least we got to see a lot more rolling countryside and a couple of delightful market towns too, so it wasn't all bad. Anyway, we managed to arrive at Ludlow shortly before 2pm, which was to give us plenty of time to see the main sights in the town, although we were upset to discover that the Ludlow Brewery right next to the station closed at 4pm for some reason. Still, we got to try some of their beers later in the day as we saw a pub advertising them so we weren't to miss out.
Ludlow is a charming market town, with many of the buildings of Tudor style. Walking up the main street from the station and into the town itself, this only became more and more pronounced, with a number of small independent shops lending themselves to the street. This was very much a slice of rural England, typified by the bric-a-brac market at the heart of the main square. We were trying to find some lunch here but alas all there was was an unappetizing burger van, while with all of the delightful looking artisinal bakeries closed too, we ended up having to eat a packaged sandwich from Spar. Still, beggars can't be choosers I guess and swift noms meant we could head straight for the main sight - Ludlow Castle.
Built between 1066 and 1085 by Walter de Lacy, it was a key fortification on the Marches, the borderlands between England and Wales. Climbing to the top of the towers, you could see the strategic advantage of building the castle here, with the River Teme plunging off to one side. The views were also breathtaking, although slightly hampered by the typical English drizzle which only got increasingly more pronounced as we walked around the place. It was all largely in ruins, although the main structure of the castle was largely intact, with the round St Mary Magdalene chapel in the centre arguably being the most impressive sight. Of course, being a fur, I was more distracted by the giant red dragon sculpture guarding its nest of eggs, with one child insisting strongly to his father that he was not to touch it lest the dragon get angry. There was a sign saying so, but the child didn't quite believe the validity of this, caught between fantasy and common sense. There was a mischievous old lady who was watching on and who started talking to Wolfie about all of the technological trickery that could be employed to make the dragon seem more real.
There was a guy giving some other tourists an archeological tour of the castle and we overheard bits and pieces of his speech, which I'll admit I found quite fascinating. Aside from this though, we just had our smaller guides to go on, which proved more than sufficient for this delightful romp round. We were done inside forty-five minutes though and with the drizzle starting to become heavier, we decided to call off at the modest town museum near the main market square to dry off. This was a really small affair of only two rooms, detailing key moments in the town's history, as well as key exhibits on the geology of the area and life during the two world wars. Provinicial museums are usually a little dull but this was mercifully interesting, with the hoard of coins from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries being of particular interest. The lady on the front desk was also really talkative and told us a number of interesting facts about Ludlow, not to mention sharing with us a few recommendations. These included walking down Broad Street and looking at the vast array of differing architecutre - which we managed to do - and also strolling by the river to take in the castle's strategic vantage point. Alas we didn't have time to do this. The history of Broad Street was interesting in itself, with the Wheatsheaf Inn, which now occupies what was the jail inside the town walls, being the only one of nine pubs still remaining here dating from the eighteenth century.
Another one of her recommendations was to see the Parish Church of St Laurence, the main church, which was another wonder and full of interesting things including the place where Arthur, Prince of Wales's heart now lies. He was one of the Princes In The Tower who died in 1502 at the age of fifteen. The sun had come out by this point, casting some beautiful shades through the intricate stained glass windows, which were the highlight of the church. After a fifteen minute look around and having been on our feet for a good two hours or so, we then decided to call off at the pub next to the museum, which was opposite the old corn market. This was situated under a clock-topped stone building with archways leading to the selling area underneath. On this now was a guy selling craft beer but alas we did not get the opportunity to talk to him as some American was boring him about the Pacific Northwest. Still, we did get to try six local brews including three from the Ludlow Brewing Company and one from the Salopian Brewery in the bar next to the Museum. I had already requested a pint, which the barmaid had started pouring, before realising you could get a tasting tray of six thirds of all the real ales they had on tap. This was served in a Yorkshire Pudding tray for some reason, but it did the trick. As we were carrying the beers over to the table, an elderly gentleman with a black dog took particular interest as he fished out his handkerchief to blow his nose, dropping most of the tissue on the unsuspecting dog's head. As he left, he asked us how we could remember rating so many beers, at which point I told him about the Untappd app. The friendliness of the locals was a strong factor in Ludlow as two young gentlemen, one of whom was giivng relationship advice to the other, starting recommending other beer places for us in the town. The Bloody Bay, named after a Grand National winner, was the main one to experience as they have a strict no phones policy and only brew beers from recipes dating from 1885. This promised to be an experience so after we had explored Broad Street, we stuck our noses in.
The place was very barren, almost ramshackle, and the no technology rule was correct. Indeed, the place had very much a Victorian feel about it but the beer was good - the stout in particular had a distinctive taste - and the barman was friendly. Indeed, upon hearing we weren't local, he corralled all of his regulars into giving us recommendations for good bars in Shrewsbury which was nice. Alas, we didn't manage to get to any. Still, it was a good way to round off the day, with a view out of the windows which wouldn't have changed much through the years. Wolfie in particular was in wonder at this. After finishing our ales and pork scratchings, we noticed we still had another half hour to kill before we needed to get back to the train station to get our bus, so we stuck around for another half before heading back. Suffice to say, the final fifteen minutes back to Shrewsbury on that bus were quite desperate from a urination perspective and we were glad to get back to the station where we could relieve ourselves.
We ended up getting back to Shrewsbury at 8:30pm, some two hours later than intended, and it's one of those towns that just closes on a Sunday. However, after some diligent Google work, we found a bar that was still serving food - The Loopy Shrew. This turned out to be quite a find as not only did they do local real ales but their two course Sunday lunch menu was still on and it was fantastic. We both had parfait starters and a roast beef main, with the food very much received as we were a little tipsy. We had also had little food to eat all day and were generally hungry, so it was a very nice way to round off the day. On the way back to the hotel though we did stop off at The Salopian Bar to try one of their beers, even getting discount for being CAMRA members (which is a rarity these days as we rarely go to real ale pubs). It was incredibly dead, with the barman telling us that they had been rammed for The Champions League Final the night before. Indeed there was something of a sporty theme, but the place was pleasant. I would have happily stayed but Wolfie had more work the next day and I was starting to feel the effects of alcohol so we headed back to the hotel just before 11pm. Here we caught a poignant documentary about the last days of Freddie Mercury, which made you think hard about the stigma of AIDS and the LGBT community in the Eighties. It was incredibly sad, particularly as the press had a lot to answer for, but at least attitudes have changed somewhat since then. IT was a fascinating watch though and I couldn't not watch the end, meaning we headed to bed a little later than intended. Still, it was early enough not to cause an issue.
