A Brief Taste of Shropshire with a Side of Powis

After a night out in Popworld Birmingham, I awoke without a hangover. Result! As you’d expect, weather in the Second City was dull, so Brendan and I wasted little time in escaping.

Today we would be driving from Brum to Winsford, Cheshire, via the scenic route of Shropshire. England’s largest inland county is largely rural and sparsely populated, and is also home to the Iron Bridge Gorge – a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I fancied a visit, and as I was driving, Brendan had no choice but to come along.

40 or so minutes out of Birmingham we arrived in Ironbridge, but before we saw the bridge, it was time for breakfast at the Riverside Tea Room.

We joined the old people in the caf. The Tea Room was inside Ironbridge Antiques, Arts & Crafts and Brendan and I were by far the youngest things in there. I had a toastie and a traditional pot of tea which required a strainer to catch the loose tea leaves from the pot. The result was it looked like my teapot was having a shit.

Breakfast/brunch done, we went for a wander around the antiques.

I found a lamp disguised as a camera. I also found a toy lightsaber and was promptly told to stop swinging it around by the shopkeeper.

Outside, the sun had made an appearance and Brendan had to remove his coat. We walked up the street and along the River Severn towards the Iron Bridge.

According to UNESCO, Ironbridge Gorge is known worldwide as THE symbol of the Industrial Revolution. The Iron Bridge was the first major bridge in the world to be made of cast iron. It’s owned by English Heritage, who last year completed their restoration project – which included a new paintjob. I remember the Iron Bridge as blue, but apparently the new dark red look represents the original paintwork when it was first built in the late 1770s.

Here’s a charlatan upon the bridge.

Here now is a tattooed man.

Brendan and I had a little wander around the village. We found this shop.

Ermm, what? Urban Country Girl? Is that even possible?

Brendan was excited to find this phone box.

Not sure why. Perhaps there aren’t many like this in Barnsley.

Another shop in Ironbridge had a BOLD claim.

Well, a statement like that I cannot simply ignore. I had to try one.

“World famous” it may be, but “world’s best” it was not. I’ve had better – shout out to C. Webb & Sons in Northwich. Sorry Eley’s.

We headed back to the car and drove around to see the huge cooling towers of Ironbridge B Power Station. As it was closed and due for demolition, we wondered whether we’d be able to get onto the site for some industrial images. Driving across the bridge onto the site was like entering Area 51 – a security car suddenly appeared and we turned around and drove off.

There are plenty of National Trust and English Heritage sites in Shropshire, including Attingham Park, Cronkhill and Wroxeter Roman City but Brendan wanted to visit Powis Castle. In Welshpool. In Wales. I meeeean I wanted to do a blog about Shropshire…

“The best thing about Shropshire is that it’s the gateway to Wales.” – Brendan Clayton, 2019.

Whoa.

It was a nice drive to Welshpool. There was no motorway – just winding A and B roads. We passed The Wrekin, a prominent hill on the Shropshire plain and local landmark that signals the entrance to Shropshire for travellers westbound on the M54.

We bypassed the county town of Shrewsbury and eventually crossed the border. At Powis Castle, it was raining.

I wasn’t impressed. I bet it wasn’t raining in Shropshire.

Brendan was excited though. He’d been before and promised it was beautiful inside.

With our National Trust memberships we had free entry and as it was raining, we headed straight for the castle.

No bloody photos allowed ffs.

The inside was nice though. Lots of old furniture, paintings and ornaments – very much what you would expect from a National Trust castle. Brendan told me the staircase was one of the most spectacular he’d ever seen. I thought it was alright.

Still, if you like history, you’ll like Powis Castle. During World War II, the castle was home to the evacuees of Welsh Girls’ School, and thus we found an air raid shelter.

Waiting for the bombs to stop. (Haha sneaky forbidden photo, take THAT National Trust!)

After nearly an hour in the castle, the rain had cleared and we went outside to explore the Gardens, which feature this tree cave.

Naturally, I had to have a look inside. This would have been my den if I grew up at Powis.

The Gardens were beautiful tbf, even under grey skies.

I enjoyed my wander around, but I preferred this deck chair.

It was placed beside a fountain, and the splishy splashy sound coupled with the cool air was very relaxing.

After a quick toilet break of terror (I used a disabled toilet infested with daddy long legs whilst Brendan’s alcohol abuse of the night before came back to bite him), we climbed the small hill that stands opposite the castle hill. It provided a good photo spot.

We then found a giant foot.

Google tells me it’s called the Patagon Foot. And that’s about it. No idea what it represents or why it’s here. I’m sure civilised folk will tell me “because art”.

The Castle closed at 5pm and it was nearly that time, so it was time to leave.

We headed into Welshpool for another fine dining experience – a can of Relentless and Twix cookies.

If we’d had more time in the day, I would have taken Brendan to Fenn’s, Whixall & Bettisfield Mosses on the way back. It’s a National Nature Reserve that straddles the border between Wales and Shropshire, and I love it there. Twice I’ve been for a walk around those peat bogs and I’ve come across only one other human being.

Definitely worth a visit if you like nature and don’t like people.

Speaking of not liking people, Brendan and I drove back to Winsford to the sound of Boris Johnson in the Commons. That’s a sign that you’re old. We’d been to a gig the night before and yet we were driving along listening to politics.

Anyhow, this feast of Shropshire had turned into just a brief taste with a large side of Wales. However, it was an enjoyable drive through rural lanes – which obviously a law abiding citizen like me could not photograph whilst at the wheel. I shall have to cover Shrewsbury and the Mosses another time…