Day 1 - Edinburgh to Church Stretton
50 years ago, my dad, aged 19, set off for a month of youth-hostelling in Wales. Here’s how his first day went: (my Dad’s 1972 journal entries will always be like this is white boxes)
And now my adventure also begins…
The day began smashingly, quite literally as when I pulled up to the station there was a huge smashed window in the bank that looked as though they must have been ram-raided in an attempted heist.
The train journey to Church Stretton via Crewe was very comfortable, in no small part due to the fact that by the time I came to book it there were no standard class tickets left for the entire day so I was forced to slum it in first class.
During the scenic parts of the journey, such as when passing the looming mass of Tinto (see pic) or the Lake District, I looked out of the windows. During the less scenic parts like Preston, I read “The Shopshire of Mary Webb” by W. Chappell, written in 1930 which describes some of the Shropshire countryside that I will be walking through this coming week on the first leg of my trip.
Just before arriving at Crewe I discovered that the second train was only running part of the way and replaced with a bus from Shrewsbury. As it was only one stop and meant that I would be over an hour late and this entitled to a full refund on my ticket cost, I was more than happy with the situation and made sure to enjoy my complimentary gin and tonic all the more!
On the bus to Church Stretton I ended up in conversation with an old guy who has worked as an architect and lived all round the world, in Kenya, Malawi and the Solomon Islands, and we had a very interesting chat about post- colonialism.
On arrival into Church Stretton I was met by my cousin Shiela and Tony and enjoyed a very nice dinner and evening and in their company, taking about the trip I would make and the one my dad made 50 years ago.
I slept well, considering that Shiela had just told me about a horrific axe murder that took place in their house a long time ago, when a man had brutally slain his wife and daughter, and that although she’d never felt anything her daughter Julie would refuse to go upstairs there because of a bad feeling. My bedroom was upstairs and although I was a little hesitant to turn off the lights I was exhausted and had a very good nights sleep and woke ready for my first day's walking.