A Grand Day Out

Its was a long weekend. And I spent the first two days slumped in front of the cricket eating junk food. Not, it has to be said, the active and exciting weekend I had planned. So, to make up for this, on the Monday the boy Fuller and I set of on our bikes for the ancient Roman city of Wroxeter. It was a really good ride out, the sun shone, the sheep baa’d, the donkeys brayed and the rabbits were smeared liberally over the road. Living in the festering pit that is Telford its easy to forget just how nearby and attractive rural Shropshire is. So, after a leisurely 12 miles or so we reached the ruins. Wroxeter was a new town, rather like Telford. Founded in about 6AD, initially as a Roman fort, by the time of Hadrian (123Ad??) it was Britain’s fourth largest roman town and it remained in use for five centuries. Most of the city lies unexcavated under farmland but the foundations of the Basilica and bath house have been excavated. Now, I’m not much of a ruins freak, but they give you an electronic guide and you wander round this 2000 year old site that, to be honest, they would struggle to build today. Its fascinating. The Basilica, for instance, forms the basic design for Christian cathedrals. The Basilica at Wroxeter was longer than the longest cathedral in Europe. The bath house had a vaulted, concrete ceiling, under floor heating, sauna’s and steam rooms. We had a great hour or so wandering around the site and the little museum eating ice cream. Then at the shop they had a free chutney tasting. Mmmm.
So, on to the nearby Mitt and Mermaid for a leisurely lunchtime ale. We sat out by the river Severn supping beer and watched a bloke fly fishing. Very pleasant. Now, when Mr F got the drinks in the rather attractive girl behind the bar seemed to be giving him the eye. So when I returned to the bar for our next and she commented that it appeared to be clouding over I could not resist saying ‘yes, whenever my boyfriend and I go cycling it rains’. Hah, If I’m not going to pull then I’m making damn sure that Fullers not.
Reluctantly, we left our watering hole, and deciding to leave Attingham house and the Abbey ruins for another day headed back to town. Again it was a nice ride through winding lanes. Unfortunately it rained and our lack of fitness began to tell. Stopping at Shawbirch for a Ginster’s pasty (the cyclists friend) I commented that I was not looking forward to the climb up through Trench Lock. The Boy Fuller knows an alternative route that avoids this hill. So, foolishly I follow him. Firstly, when he says he knows a route, he was exaggerating. There was a significant amount of lost involved. Secondly, this shortcut is about four miles longer than our usual path and although it does avoid the hill at Trench, has 3 hills that are bigger. By the time we rolled back into Oakengates at around 3pm I was in need of a restorative so we popped into the Crown. And there I remained for some time. The Monkey turned up. Mr & Mrs Austin popped in, Yvonne did some bending in the yard which we boys enjoyed, Scottish Dougie appeared briefly. I had a beer or two. Maybe even three. Finally I staggered out for a Chinese and home to an early night. A grand day out.