BOWLED OVER IN BISHOPS CASTLE  (WHAT CASTLE ?)                    9TH-11TH JULY 09

 

Up for it were:

 

Bunked up in the Claremont opposite the Three Tunns Brewery were: Jacko, Dasher & Keithee, Yup & Stub, Spikelet, Corky and JayCee.

In the Mount Cottage were Granpop Bill sharing a double bed with himself, Mid week Tone and Utterly

And The Poppy House put up Malc and Mathew Jay.

Joining us on the day of the walk were Mothy, Heckey Thump and Sparklet.

 

Pedro dibbed out, probably on some exotic trip abroad again.  Mr Tahoohigh dibbed out on family duty attending his daughters badly planned graduation. Mothy said he’d gone to Bangor but we disagreed. 

 

 

 

Route:

South west along the Shropshire Way to Pant Edward barn, turning north east through the centre of Blakeridge Woods follwing the path down to Cefn Einon to Shadwell Hall and Hergan.  Turning north through Middle Knuck we beared east to Lower Knuck, through Birches Bank Wood, Knuck Wood, Reith Farm and north east along the Shropshire Way to Fron, Reilthtop, Middle Woodbatch, Wood House, Cwmmawr Dingle and returning to Bishops Castle.

 

 

 

 

Over 12 months of intense planning by Dasher had finally come to fruition.  Reckie’s had been carried out, assisted by Pedro and Keithee’s up for it, pre-booking the 3 Tunns brewery visit, accommodation and the indian.  It had been sorted out to the nth degree.  Even the no of hand pulls at each venue had been noted; 24 at the Six Bells, 18 at the Castle Hotel, and 12 at the Vaults. A truly high standard of organisation to which anyone must aspire.

 

Corky, arriving first in the Claremont, stood proudly outside his gigantic double room, offering it up to anyone who pulled over the weekend.  He knew us far too well, knowing that the nearest any of us would get to pulling, would be the hand pulls on the bars.  We waited for the chimes to explode from the grandfather clock after the owner gave us a demo after winding it up.

 

As we waited, Jacko confided that he was going to be sensible on this trip, avoiding ale, and drinking only healthy drinks.  Corky suggested a quick half in the 3 Tuns while we waited for everyone to arrive.  ‘Stuff it’, said Jacko, ‘I’ll just have one!’

 

We gathered in the small bar of the 3 Tuns, not knowing its full extent until the following night.  1642 was on tap at 3.8% and Triple x at 4.3%.

 

Malc Jay arrived with Mathew Jay who sadly was still being weaned off fizzy lager.  According to the programme of events, Corky noticed that the first evening was free, and suggested a take out of ale to drink the following morning.  He was quickly corrected by Dasher, ‘having the evening free’, didn’t mean free ale!  Spikelet arrived a little later on his bike after a prolonged ‘session’ with Pam on the doorstep, so we stopped a while longer.

 

 

Hunger pangs were making more noise than the grandfather’s clock, forcing several to slip next door into the chippie.  Keithee and Stubbee stood at the pub window scoffing chips.  A big sausage was flashed, tempting the rest who soon joined forces moving into a small landscaped square, where Dasher stroked a pussy and Mothy noted the strong whiff of fish in the air.

  

 

A welcoming tour of the Six Bells brewery by ‘Big Nev’ began with a description of ale smells ranging from elderflower to cats urine and an explanation of spears and spikes, which I’ve now forgotten. We were all on ‘Cloud 9’ except for Mid week tone who was quite taken by Big Nev !!  The tour ended as the festival ales were displayed housed in plastic barrels.  Abbeydale’s Alchemy and Copper Dragon’s Pippin were on fine form and as clear as a bell. JayCee asked where the toilets were, making out it was his first visit of the evening. 

 

 

 

 

The Stubmeister asked the obvious but inquisitive question as to why Titanic ales weren’t available, being informed that only Yorkshire ales were available over the weekend at this pub, and Titanic ales were from Stoke.

   

  

Many hands then assisted in the largest erection of the weekend in the garden.  The marquee was well held down by a hundred rolls of gaffa tape in preparation for predicted bad weather conditions and keeping the hundreds of beer guzzlers dry who would be huddled inside it.

 

 

Utterley mentioned a 70 mile sponsored bike ride which he was promoting.  Would that be a 70 miles round trip, or would it be there and back?’ asked Spike.  Surprising what a couple of pints does to the brain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The evening ended with games of backgammon and chess in the Castle Hotel at the top of the town; a weird combination.  The chinese takeaway appeased several whilst Jacko slipped down a couple of tasteless battered eals.  Spikelet shared a bag of over-salted chips with Mothy; returning at midnight for a large sausage to take the taste away.  At 4am Jaycee woke up swearing never to drink again!

 

 

 

 

 

The Friday morning began for those who’d stayed over, with a hearty breakfast at the digs. The gang assembled outside the Claremont before making a move down the high street and off into the country. 

 

A hedgerow which had overgrown the path since the reckie delayed progress for a short while before we got back on track.  Sitting on a pile of logs for breakfast we looked like a right bunch of fellers.  One such fella, Granpop Bill, had little to eat, having eaten his packed lunch of pasties the previous day after feeling peckish.  It did nothing to slow him down though.  Having lost a few pounds, Bill took the walk easily in his stride, whilst a spare bottle of lucozade came to Jacko’s aid.

 

 

A much deserved pint and buffet lunch was anticipated as we waited on the outside stage at the 6 Bells.  There were a few mutterings however as the first show of food was put on.  Big Nev had obviously disappeared backstage to Iceland to get the savouries.  A second act of ‘chips in a basket’ did little to satisfy the audience but on to the stage came the final act to a round of applause; Dasher and his mobile jokes quelling a possible rebellion.

 

  

 

 

The live Ashes tour was found broadcasting in the Boars Head, an Ansells pub half way back up the high street.  From 6pm onwards a fine selection of ales for the festival would be available, but for now we made do with Speckled Hen and Bombardier.  Granpop Bill settled down with a smile on his face.  Yup and Stub popped into the local co-op and loaded the fridge with bottles of cobra ready to pick up before the visit to the Indian later in the evening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a short break back at the digs, we met up at the 3 Tuns at 6ish.  Thoughts and discussions turned to the Ground force taking over Granpop Bills garage and turning it into the Squarry Club’s Brewery.  Milda wouldn’t mind, we told Bill; she would no doubt be making bacon butties for us as the conversion took place.

 

An outside bar had been set up providing even more beers.  JayCee struggled with his ginger tosser; nothing unusual there. 

 

   

Wine and the chilled cobras were collected from the co-op and we waited outside the Ganges for our table to become free.  Chicken chats and nargis kebabs were freely ordered as Pedro wasn’t present.  At the end of the meal, Dasher was thanked for his meticulous organisation after which Jaycee presented the waiter with a squarry club leaving card accompanied by a rapturous round of applause. ‘We travel all round the country sampling curries’, he said. He was most impressed, but not as much as we were when we were presented with the bill of only £13 each.  What excellent value for money.  ‘Can you be quiet?’ muttered someone from another table.

 

 

We stumbled out of the door carrying Granpop Bill who was obviously bowled over with the ‘extras’ during the afternoons play.  A steadying hand was provided by Corky back to his digs where Midweek Tone tucked him up in bed and saw the silly mid off.

 

After jiving at one of the other trendy pubs, the Crown & Anchor Vaults, JayCee, Keithees up for it, Jacko, Yup and Stub returned to the digs to watch Leslie Nielsen in some film with a ‘nice beaver’, before falling asleep one by one.

 

Breakfast soon came around.  Too early for Dasher who had been kept awake until 4am by the snoring of Keithee’s up for it.  Spikelet also seemed to be having troubles, disappearing and making several visits to the bathroom.  Must have been that extra sausage at midnight.

 

Utterley took a shine to a fairy, but enough said about that.  And Granpop Bill’s coat was posted to him some days later after he’d left it behind for four runs. 

  

An abundance of merriment and another cracking walk.

  

Many thanks to Dasher for organising it with the aid of Pedro and Keithee’s up 4 it.  Next summer its Mr Tahoohighs chance to impress again with a proposed visit to the Thornbridge Brewery at Bakewell.

 

 

Best regards

Yupmeister

(enjoy yer sqwalks)