July 30, Shrewsbury

 Not only is this stay in Shrewsbury three nights, but I will be returning to Shrewsbury and staying another three nights.  This is because Shrewsbury is a hub for a number of stages for the northern section of the Shropshire Way...in a manner of speaking.  It turns out you cannot get a bus or a train to all of them.  The way I am handling it is by cheating.  Por ejemplo, today I was supposed to take a train to Wem, which is about as small as its name, thence or whence to walk to Ellesmere.  Two problems:  the earliest train to Wem was too late for me....something like 6:25 arriving at 7:00ish.  The bigger problem was that there is a major egg farm along the way that has been shut down because of Bird Flu, which caused  a significant diversion and then there was another problem causing yet another diversion.  This was all on top of a stage that was over 14 miles.  So I bagged the stage in exchange for a gorgeous eight mile walk through Shrewsbury and its environs and went to two museums.  (As these things go, I walked over 13 miles, but all of it was very easy.)

A couple of guys were unloading empty beer kegs from a truck.  How, you may ask, did I know they were empty?  Because of the sound they made when hitting the ground.  

And, of course, I don't think they would so cavalierly toss full ones willy nilly like that.

OY!  I forget who this is!  Ulysses, creo.

There were some beautiful formal gardens:

In fact, one year, 2016? they won a prize for being beautiful formal gardens.

I would so love a sculpture like this in my garden:

You really have to enlarge the photo to see that those blue things are flowers.  (I so should have converted to WordPress so that the posts could take larger photos.  Just don't forget to click on the pictures!)

Flower boxes along the Severn:

Twin weeping willows:

A rower:

A begonia (Christmas?) tree:

After the walk, it was time for some art and I had to catch it today because the next time I am here most things will be closed since it will be either Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday. 

This is the title

for

He is handing her a dead bird while other birds (of prey?) are flying around and the cat is on a leash and there is some suspiciously erotic stuff going on, which you cannot really see in the photo, thank God.

In case you did not know: "Until the earliest 20th century, most children wore clothes of the same colours and styles as their parents.  Young boys traditionally wore dresses into the early 19th century.  Between the ages of four and seven years, 'breeching" the first wearing of breeches was an important moment in a boys life."

  

"When girls grew up in the Victorian Period (1837-1901, their hair was worn 'up' and dresses dropped from knee high to full length.  The late 20th century saw a rise in the spending power of young people."Teenagers" appeared and with them an increasing emphasis on casual clothes and sportswear:  Young people finally had their own style of clothing."

A Victorian girl whose hair does not look 'up' to me:

So now not only do we have the term "teenager" we have "wellness" as a special category for not being sick.  Bring it on!

This here is a portrait of Martin Wood, the Shrewsbury town crier, commissioned to celebrate Mr. Wood's 40th year in that position.  Here! Here!  Or should that be  Hear! Hear!

An auk...as in Aukland?

Hola, Pablo!

Had time to pop into the military museum.  My most favorite bit was this guy:

who fought these guys:

Or maybe this plea for donations: 

Yeah, right!  Exactly as the Romans did.  

Up in the more modern section, there was a lot of regalia.  Let's focus on the hats, like this one, for example

And what might this be:

Why, yes, it is a custom made hatbox for carrying the hat to battle.

Those who did not wear hats, wore helmets:

Some of which had feathery decoration:

Medals without commentary:

Ahh!  A smart uniform that makes you stand out from all the muck and dirt around you:

After the museum it was time to make my way to the bus:

That is a lot of work for 50¢:

But stopped short to contemplate this poster:

Blurb reads:  "Also known as The Nomad, this individual has been moving from city to city, disrupting the silence and vanishing before the authorities arrive." 

What I want to know is this:  should one run into Zulu—hopefully not too closely—but does not have a poster at hand, how would one scan the code?

Shrewsbury has a major bus terminal.  There are Bays lettered A-T.  The bus to Ellesmere left from P, and lots of people were waiting for it.  It was 10 minutes late and the worst ride ever.  I was SO carsick I could not do the Spelling Bee!!  There was no air in the bus and you could not open a window.  Was I happy to get off!  As I stumbled towards the Air B&B, I heard someone call my name!  It was the guy bringing the suitcase!  He had trouble finding the place, but what luck to show up just then.  I mentioned the misery of the bus ride, and he said that Shrewsbury to Ellesmere is the windiest stretch of road there is in Shropshire!  He also told me about his knee and ankle replacements. (Who knew they did ankles?)

After getting "sorted,"  I headed off the Super Tesco, which, sadly, was not so super duper.  In fact it was a huge disappointment.  I was not really surprised because the town is a bit of a dump.  Its claim to fame, if, in fact, it has any claim to fame, is that it is at one end of the Ellesmere Canal now called the Llangollen Canal that used to be called the Shropshire Canal or Shropsie for short.