Sunday 5th June 2022

In the 1970s, when I used to stay at my Grandparent's house when my Mum and Dad went disco dancing, or whatever they called it before disco dancing was a thing, there was a TV series they used to watch called "How Green was my Vaelley". I remember little of it, except Granddad saying the valley was go green because of all the rain.

So, on Sunday, the rain was due to fall in the valleys, the hills and all else between.

What to do when we had come away without coasts and umbrella?

Churchcrawling.

And thanks to the Church Conservation Trust, you ban fairly reply on those under their care to be open. I made a list of their churches in Shropshire, and after breakfast we set off for the first one, passing through the village of Knocking.

I kid ye not.

Where the village shop is called, of course, The Knocking Shop.

I also kid ye not.

Rain fell, roads were neary flooded, so we slish-splashed our way across the county, down valley and up hills until we came to the entrance of an estate.

Here be a church.

Not sure if we could drive to it, I got out and walked, getting damp as the rain fell through the trees.

But the church was there, and open, if poorly lit inside. And I was able to get shots before walking up the hill to the car.

Two more churches tried, but they were locked and no keyholder about. So onto Wroxter, where a large and imposing church towered over the road. And to get there we passed through a former Roman settlement from whic the modern town too its name. Most impressive was a reconstruction of a villa.

But we did not stop.

The chuch was open, light and airy even on a gloomy and wet day. I got loads of shots, especially of the fine tombs.

The final church was one not under the CCC, but one I had seen shots of online earlier in the week.

It took half an hour to drve to Diddlebury.

I kid ye not. Again.

And up the hill was the church, with a huge squat Saxon, or early Norman tower, and insode both the north and west walls were Saxon, with the north wall being made of dressed stone laid in a herringbone style.

It is an incredible survivor, and glad that I made the effort to come, as the church is amazing.

But that done, thoughts turned to lunch, and once back on the main road we came to the village pub and ordered more sandwiches which also came with salad and fries. Sorry, chips. And the best ships I have had out of a chippy. They brew their own beer too, which was glorious, and I needed a second to make sure, but I was driving, as Jools' cold was much worse, and was suffering in silence.

So, having eaten we drive back, taking an hour. The rain had stopped, but Jools needed to go to bed.

Back in the hotel, Jools went for a snooze, I watched a podcast, then the Wales v Ukraine game. That ended with Wales winning thus going to the World Cup, and for us it was dinner time.

And another armourer had come to say hello, so once we had eaten, Jools went back to bed, the three ex-armourers drank and swapped stories until ten. And after my second large whisky, I called it a night. Phew.