Scanning a map of England, looking for a place to spend a quiet few days in order to gather thoughts before we head into some rather big life changes (I start a new job on Monday, and we’re hoping to move house in the next few months), I found a small town called Bewdley on the banks of the River Severn and next to the Wyre Forest.
Little did I know just how rowdy Bewdley would prove itself to be!
Well, one small part of it, anyway!
Walking by Brooks and Rivers:
It was a rainy couple of days that we ended up with, but luckily we were able to take a nice long walk into the Wyre Forest on the Dowle’s Brook Circular Walk. It was wonderfully quiet – we only saw a handful of other people – and we thoroughly enjoyed the gentle stroll through ancient woodlands. We didn’t see much wildlife, being chatty walkers, but did see a large heron fishing in the brook as we walked by and some brightly coloured fungi.
We took two walks along the Severn, watching the teams of rowers scoot past and looking for mini-beasts in the flowers growing by the path. It was lovely to see plenty of bees buzzing around, and a clubtail dragonfly obligingly posed for a snap.
A Room with a View
Our accommodation for the three nights was the Apple Blossom room of the Mug House, affording us a beautiful view of the river. It’s a shame that the sky was full of white cloud, but the eighteenth century Thomas Telford bridge still looks lovely.
I sampled four of the local restaurants – one being the Angry Chef at the Mug House where I had a tasty linguini and a scrummy Eton mess, the latter taken upstairs in the member’s room.
Some Local History
Our second day was particularly drizzly, with a constant rain fall for most of the day, so we popped into the local museum to have a look. It was small, but perfectly formed within an old butchers’ shambles, and we enjoyed learning about local industry and commerce through the years, as well as local law enforcement. Whilst walking, we’d noticed some metal brackets set into the floor along the Severn and surmised they were for flood defences, so it was interesting to see this photo in the museum.
I didn’t expect any nightlife at all in Bewdley mid-week, so the Arches pub made a real impact on the Tuesday evening! We’d wandered in, Chris after a pint of ale, to find an impromptu karaoke evening just picking up. Ever the show off, I joined in and before we knew it we’d been ushered to seats at the front by Stu, the host, who proceeded to introduce us to every single person in the pub, taking the microphone around to each person present and making them tell us their names. The evening took a left turn at the traffic lights when Big John got up to perform his version of Justin Beiber’s ‘Sorry’, complete with lush Brummie accent, and we were soon blown away when an inebriated off-duty opera singer delivered to an enraptured audience ‘Nessun Dorma’! The evening ended as bizarrely as it would, with a full-volume play of Darude’s ‘Sandstorm’. It would be difficult to think of anywhere that I’ve been made to feel more welcome, and as if I were an honorary local for the evening!