This is the last of these brief posts on where I have been that day, as I'm going home to Leicestershire tomorrow. They will remind me of what I got up to on holiday and of some possible longer posts about the places I've been to that I may write later in the year.
Today it was the town of Church Stretton and the village of Little Stretton. I saw several emergency vehicles in Church Stretton and a helicopter landed in the centre, all of which made me fear that someone had met with an accident on the Long Mynd, a hill that towers over the town. But I can't find any news reports about what was going on.
And in Little Stretton I once again admired All Saints' Church. This began life in 1903 as a tin tabernacle – one of those flat-pack, corrugated-iron churches that were produced in their hundreds for new industrial settlements or the further reaches of the Empire.
It's a surprise to find one in an ancient Shropshire village, but All Saints' was soon zhuzhed up with a mock Tudor exterior and thatched roof to make it look at home. And it does to this day.
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