Fish and chips

We’re walking down to Blists Hill. “We could have lunch there. The fish and chip shop might be open”. It was – the aroma led us straight towards it. They were pretty good too, though I suspect a portion between us might have been sufficient. Our return journey will help to walk them off!

While we’re dining (al fresco) the little replica Trevithick steam locomotive is being driven up and down the track on the opposite bank of the canal. I’m not going to try while fingers are greasy, but as soon as we’ve finished… Inevitably, as soon as we’ve finished, and cleaned our fingers, the loco driver is ready for his lunch. We’ll wander on.

Blists Hill Victorian Town

Is it snowing?

Along Ned’s Lane, pale particles are sifting down through the trees. I should say  from the trees… Larch needles, doing what they do in autumn, covering the path with a snow-like coating. Elsewhere, there are still plenty of toadstools, though most of the ‘Flying Erics’ are well past their best, and the puffballs have puffed!

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Dining out (again!)

We ate out on Tuesday – outside the Tea Emporium in Ironbridge. The ambience for today’s lunch was on a different plane – nearly 1500ft above sea level, beside Boyne Water on Brown Clee. A bit draughty perhaps, and just a plain wooden plank to sit on, but much superior views – a great place to dine!  A little later, we’re enjoying our second lunch (a fine tradition is developing in these parts…) – biscuits on the bench near the Five Springs. With the Brecon Beacons in view, 55 miles to the south-west, and Cader Idris (57 miles) peeping over the Long Mynd, the views are even better.

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Clear blue over Coalbrookdale

“We could walk from Bedlam, over to Coalbrookdale, then back through Ironbridge – pick up some tea at the Emporium”. Good idea, and we’ll go this morning – it will be cloudier after lunch, with showers. The timing was good too – it’s just lunchtime as we arrive in the Square. The bacon baps weren’t on the plan, but they were rather good…

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Flying Erics

Properly known as fly agaric, it was a nephew’s apt malapropism many years ago. A couple of them caught our eyes as we walked along Shirlett Lane – they were duly recorded by the camera. It’s an out-and-back walk, but “things look different in the other direction”. They certainly did. The Reeves’s pheasant was perhaps rather overdressed for these parts. He was around on the outward walk, hard to see in the undergrowth, but determined to pose for us on our return. A little further on, there are the two Erics – and beyond them (we hadn’t noticed them earlier) dozens more, in amongst the trees beside the lane. Despite being past their best, they brighten up a dull morning.

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