“bear right for paradise”
A day and a half! Lots of walking and lots of sightseeing in the gorge, the ‘raison d’être’ for this trip.
The day starts with a climb up from the river into Lloyd’s Coppice woods. A clear path winds its way through the trees high above the valley. At one time these hills were used for timber and coal mining for the nearby furnaces but all is peace and quiet, a perfect start to the day. And then the steps appeared, climbing higher up Blists Hill. No sooner up than I am going down, Old King Cole style.
Somehow I go round in circles for a while down at the entrance to Blists Hill Museum, a working village. The museums in the gorge can all be accessed by a rather expensive yearly ticket, maybe good value for regulars, but of no interest to me just passing though. I will have to be content with the the free bits.
Blists Hill furnaces
I can see the old railway below me but can’t find a way out of the car park to reach it. Once I read the guide more carefully I’m on my way. I’m back on the Silkin Way, the disused L&NW Railway line which has come down from Telford the easy way. All I have to is walk into Coalport. I pass under Hay Inclined Plane designed to lift boats from the canal below. It is under scaffolding here but more of it later.
The buildings by the canal, including a YHA, are part of the Coalport China factory, now a museum. The brick kilns are remarkably well preserved, I suspect rebuilt in more modern times, Under a bridge can be seen the end of the inclined plane. High above it connected to the Shropshire canal built in 1790, coal could be transported from the pits to here and then down the incline to the china works canal. Finished wares then shipped down the River Severn close by. The ingenuity of the first industrialists. In 1861 the London and North Western Railway arrived and the canals ceased to function. In the mid C20th china manufacture was moved to Staffordshire.
I cross the River Severn on the Jackfield and Coalport Memorial Bridge, a WWI memorial, arriving on the doorstep of The Boat Inn, with the heights of flooding marked on the door.
Going alongside a massive wall, Maws Works, I read that from 1883 -1970 it was the largest tile factory in the world. Local clay proved ideal for encaustic tiles, those decorated ones found in Victorian houses, pubs and churches. Now what is left is a craft centre and apartments.
I pass the Half Moon pub, there seem to be a lot of pubs in the gorge. Those workers had quite a thirst, and now sufficient tourists must keep them open. A bit of rarely trampled greenery by the river and then I’m in Jackfield.
The next major attraction here is The Ironbridge Gorge Tile Museum. I do poke my nose into the Peacock Café of this place and end up with coffee and cake. A lady with her dog is sat on the adjacent table, I complement her dog, always a good conversation starter. She is biding time whilst her daughter and husband paint tiles in the museum (dogs not allowed), and they will be fired and sent on in due course.
A short walk along another old railway, a branch of the Great Western, and I pass the home of Jackfield Brass Band in the old Coalford Wesleyan Chapel. 1825. It would be good to hear them playing in the gorge on a sunny Summer’s day.
At last I arrive at the Ironbridge Toll House, not looking good under scaffolding. Inside is a little museum telling the story of the bridge. The first cast iron bridge in the world, built in some ways to highlight the progress of the iron industry of the area. It was designed by an architect T F Pritchard, enthusiastically funded by ‘Ironmaster’ John Wilkinson, and built by the Quaker Abraham Darby. It was completed in 1779 and opened in 1781,replacing a ferry across the Severn. Closed to traffic in 1934 and freed from tolls in 1950, the price hadn’t changed from 1781- a halfpenny or a pedestrian.
It best viewed from the riverside.
All along here are cafes and tourist shops, and yet more pubs. There are some smart cottages and houses, again with well tended gardens.
By the road side are Limekilns used when there was a large amount of limestone quarried on Lincoln Hill above. There is the usual informative board that I have come to expect on these trails.
The museum near here has no exhibitions any more because of repeated severe flooding, sign of the times. Down the road the co-op is housed in an old warehouse, as is a smart gallery.
Across the way is a steep lane, Paradise, climbing out of the gorge. Soon, I’m back in the woods and a few hundred steps up to The Rotunda. This was originally a covered viewing platform with a revolving seat for the gentry to look down upon all their industries. All that is left is the platform base, and trees are robbing the views.
Base of the Rotunda.
In my header photo taken from up here you can just make out the Ironbridge in the woods by the Severn, Here’s a zoom to it.
The woods following have lots of tracks – ‘Sabbath Walks’ devised by C19th industrials to provide leisure for the workers on a Sunday and keep them out of all those pubs.
Bearing left, as I usually do, I never achieve Paradise.
Soon I’m dropping down into Coalbrookdale.
Here there is a large historic iron industry complex, The Museum of Iron. I’m not sure what is on display in the Museum but I head straight to the café for a pot of tea, it has been a muggy day down in the gorge. You probably need a tea or something stronger if you have read this far with me.
In the grounds are the remains of an early furnace and the attendant infrastructure, including the waterwheel building and the upper pool, which fed it.
Through the many arched viaduct, the Great Western Railway, that ran until 2017. Above are houses on the hillside habited by the Darby families. Dale House, built in 1717, and Rosehill House, built in 1738. They have been restored in the style of the period but close at three. The workers’ cottages are higher still. I meet the dog lady again, with her family, and the tiles painted look impressive.
Dale House.
Rosehill House.
The day is slipping away and I have four more miles to go. That is the last of the museums and I’m heading into more open countryside. Back down the hill I go through a little arch into a different land. Loamhole Dingle is a delight of shady paths alongside a sluggish stream.
I escape up steps and follow a lane into Lydebrook Dingle which gives more of the same before steps climb out into fields.
I realise I’ve hardly seen any livestock on this walk – until now.
Some of the fields are massive – this machine is a modern type of hoe.
I’m quite high up but the distant hills are in haze, although The Wrekin is getting closer. I follow the Shropshire Way into the small village. The Huntsman is all a walker needs, at a price.
I feel miles from Telford, another world. Tomorrow there shouldn’t be any historical industrial incidents to slow us up, I promise.
***
