And so after 2 days of rest, the time has come to continue my peripatetic adventuring. Pausing briefly to leave my thesaurus behind, I get ready for 2 days away and wonder to myself if my legs are up to this. They’re still aching after last weeks tramping around and my knee is definitely feeling a bit wobbly. As I pack the rucksack for a night away I wonder, not for the first time, if I’m not getting too old for this. The sight of the age-appropriate hoody is enough to banish such doubts and I’m off on the normal trek to Slough station.
Today is heading to Ludlow. “Why Ludlow?” I hear you cry (proving once again that the voices I hear are not always my own). Well, when I was young (yes, all those years ago) I used to enjoy reading a set of books by Malcolm Saville called the Lone Pine Adventures (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lone_Pine_(books)). They were written in the years after the second World War and come under the heading of what would currently be called *wince* Young Adult Books. Whatever, they were I enjoyed them and several of them took place in Shropshire in the area near Clun and Ludlow. I couldn’t go to Clun as C is now way behind us, so I’m heading for Ludlow. (The Lone Pine books will feature later on in the alphabet as well).
So, suitably armed with nothing but a dated set of Young Adult books for reference, I head off to Ludlow. The journey today will be long and includes a foray into the wilds of Wales, so I check my rabies shots are up to date and that I have packed the anti-lion cream. (OK, I didn’t pack the anti-lion cream because I made that up. But I did pack the Wolverine Ointment, because you never know.)
I manage to arrive at Slough station 30 minutes prior to my train and end up staring at a picture of the Sussex countryside — which does not help improve the vista of Slough station. I am, naturally, going to take today in a relaxed and sensible way, so I decide to get my first coffee of the day and wait placidly for my train. Naturally, I almost immediately change my mind and my coffee and I are soon speeding towards Reading on an earlier train.
This gives me a chance to try and finish off Memory of Fire by Holly Lisle. Still enjoying it, but not finished when I get to Reading. Sat there waiting for my connecting train, I am momentarily distracted by this man on the platform opposite.
Now some may criticize me for finding his stylistic choices unusual, but lederhosen? In Reading? I mean my shorts may look like a fashion mistake, but lederhosen?
The train from Reading to Newport arrives on time and we head off. It is a quiet train – really quiet. So quiet that I fall asleep twice, dropping my book on the floor both times. It’s so quiet, that no-one seems to notice and I am suitably refreshed when I get off the train at Newport.
Now, before I left I had checked on the route and the journey between Newport and Cwmbran was described in an extremely vague manner. Suspiciously vague. The reasons for this become clear when I am directed out of the station to wait at a bus stop for a dreaded bus replacement service. My nerves about this (after all, I am an Englishman alone in Wales) are ameliorated by the extremely impatient man who is having a very entertaining rant about the trains, the bus system, a passing taxi and anyone else who gets in his way. He decides to get a taxi and storms off leaving me to wonder where the bloody bus is — I’ve just missed my connection at Cwmbran.
After half an hour it turns up and I manage to nab the coveted front seat on the top deck so I get a great view as we leisurely drive up to Cwmbran. There, we stop at the grandly named Cwmbran Passenger Interchange. Otherwise known as the train station to the rest of us. I find myself wishing that the sign was translated into Welsh as I suspect trying to say it would generate enough phlegm to drown a chihuahua. With that thought in mind I leave the bus and negotiate the legion of staff who are loudly and aggressively demanding to see tickets — though they all ignore me. Ok, there isn’t a legion, but considering this is a tiny station there are 6 people stood here all doing the same job. The good news is we don’t have to wait long for the train and the final leg of my journey is underway.
First impressions of Ludlow are not particularly good as the train station is directly opposite a delightfully ugly Tesco. But even from here, I can see hills surrounding the town, so I press on hoping that Ludlow will not disappoint. Very quickly I get away from the bland supermarket structure and the road ahead looks as though this little town could be of interest.
As I head up the hill, I spot some really interesting architecture and get close to the centre of Ludlow.
The centre of town has got a real mixture of architectural styles and some very narrow cramped streets, but it works. There is a real charm about it, despite the fact that there are a huge number of coffee shops and cafes – but somehow it works. There are also some real throwbacks here — I haven’t seen an Ironmongers for years, but there’s one in Ludlow!
I head through the centre of town until I come to the entrance to the castle. I resist the temptation to head inside, as I’ve decided to explore there tomorrow. Today, I’m heading down to the river Terne and as I head downhill I find some more attractive buildings to looks at.
It really is incredibly pretty here. At the bottom of the hill, I come across an old Mill beside a small park which is quite busy with people enjoying the good weather. From there I can get access to the river itself and I spend some time pottering around.
After a bit of exploring, I head across the bridge and follow the signs for the Bread Walk.
I wonder why it’s called the Bread Walk and manage to find a handy information sign that tells me that workers used to walk this way and they were paid with bread. I then turn around and get a superb view up the hill towards the castle.
The walk along here is remarkably relaxing – there are very few people making the walk as the day is quite hot and there is little noise apart from the sound of the river.
Across the river, I get glimpses of Ludlow through the trees and even that has a charm which does not spoil my mood.
Eventually I come to the next bridge, and head back into Ludlow. As I head back into the centre of town, I see a road-sign which makes me pause.
I head up the hill wondering why the sign is necessary and then I find out why.
This is not a pedestrian path…it’s the road.
I head upwards, shaking my head at the sheer volume of blue plaques on the houses here. I swear, I saw one that said “Nothing of importance of interest happened in this house.”
They’re thinking of putting the same plaque on this blog.
Anyway, the time has come to head for overnight lodgings at the Ludlow Mascall Centre. This is one of those place which I would best describe as a B — no breakfast here. The Ludlow Mascall Centre is part of a community centre and there are only a few rooms here. I get the key and head up to one of the bizarrest rooms I have ever stayed in. The bathroom is exactly the same size as the bedroom and the bed is absolutely minute.
I open the wardrobe to find that the rail in it has been set an odd height which wastes a huge amount of room.
As I ponder this conundrum, I realise that I am in a disabled friendly room which explains the height of the rail and the size of the bathroom – but not the ridiculously tiny bed!
I have a quick rest up before heading out for dinner. I find an Italian restaurant which is very pleasant – or it would be were it not for the children that are being allowed to run riot in the garden. Despite that, I have a pleasant meal and I head back to the Ludlow Mascall Centre. As I do, I spot a church down an alleyway and have a quick explore.
After a very satisfying day I head back to my room. My knee is twinging in a worrying way and the room is stuffy and hot. I do not anticipate a good nights sleep.
Day Two
And my anticipation was correct. I have a very disturbed night in the stuffy room, made worse by the fact that the cold water runs warm after half a cup. By the time morning comes I’ve managed to grab a few hours sleep, but I don’t feel fully rested.
I pack my things and head into the town centre, pausing to grab a couple of geocaches on the way. I then select Costa Coffee as my breakfast venue of choice and sit outside enjoying a cappuccino and a bacon roll. Outside is an odd choice as I’m right beside the road, but it was necessary due to the screaming toddler that was being ignored by its’ parents inside. The small area outside is quite crowded as a result. I sit there finishing the book I started in the middle of the night – Embers by Sandor Morai. This is the tale of 2 friends who meet for the first time in 40 years — it seems everything I read at the moment is about my school reunion!! The book is basically a monologue, but is enthralling. As I read, I become aware of the sound of a flute coming from an upper window. The music is beautiful and mildly surreal – especially as they swap from classical to pop. It is one of those moments where it sounds as though your life has a soundtrack and it weirdly adds to my feelings of relaxation.
I finish the book and take out the next one: Dictionary of Medieval Heroes. That should slow me down a bit. As I am about to leave, I see a car draw up opposite and the driver gets out and opens up the back to reveal one of the best trained dogs I have seen for ages placidly sitting inside.
I head down the hill and across the river to pick up a few more geocaches and then head back up the hill to the castle. Ludlow castle is truly spectacular, It was begun in 1086 and is incredibly peaceful. As I wander around it is really quiet in here.
I follow the guidebook and wander from tower to tower, until behind a door I spot a spiral staircase. There is nothing here to say I can’t wander up it so I do — and then discover that Ludlow Castle was built by a tribe of incredibly thin people with tiny feet.
With my huge feet and a backpack on (to say little of my own natural girth), the staircases are tricky to negotiate, but the views you get are well worth it.
I gingerly head back down and into the main keep, where I spend an entertaining hour exploring several more tiny, vertiginous staircases — and the flocks of pigeons that dwell in some of them. Finally I climb the keep itself.
.. and the views from the top are truly spectacular.
As I head down I see some visitors heading out who couldn’t be bothered to make the climb — foolish people! I grab some water and look back and think that this is so much more satisfying than the sideshow that the Fort in St Helier had become. Suitably satisfied, I shoulder my pack and head back to the train station. Ludlow is a beautiful little town and one I would be happy to return to.
My journey back is long and involved and marred by by the following incidents:
- a strange man sitting by me at Ludlow Train Station and muttering something under his breath before wandering off and balefully glaring at me from an adjacent seat;
- my train being cancelled;
- at Cwmbran Passenger Interchange a man who decides to wait until getting off the train to go to the toilet and then insisting that the bus wait for him;
- the same man then loudly discussing his journey to Barnstaple with the driver, when we all just want him to SIT THE FUCK DOWN!;
- a wifi socket on the train that had a death grip of steel and which I needed to get under the table to remove;
- damage to overhead lines between Maidenhead and Slough.
And despite all that, I’m still in a good mood when I get home. Which is lucky as I have to get ready for a 3 day trip tomorrow.
Artificial Constructs 