LOCATION: Coalport (Ironbridge) - Stourport-on-Severn
DISTANCE: 24.59 Miles (39.57 Km)
PADDLING TIME: 4 Hours, 57 Minutes
STRAVA ROUTE: https://www.strava.com/activities/12332987823
Like trigpoints, tea and queuing, I firmly believe The Youth Hostel Association should be enshrined into British culture as one of our finest institutions and traditions that should be protected at all costs.
No longer the preserve of the young, scouts or stereotypes such as cold, damp and draughty. In my expedience, the Youth Hostels of the UK have undergone a terrific transformation over the last 10 years and are now places of clean, friendly and cost effective accommodation. Commanding some of the UK’s prime rural locations, a private, double, en-suite room for the night cost the princely sum of £36.00. A quick scan of a well known accommodation booking website showed hotels and BnB’s in the same area would start from more than double that (and not be so conveniently located by the river.) If getting outdoors is your kind if thing and you’ve never stayed in or considered a YHA as your accommodation, I’d urge you to check them out.
My night was spent in blissful comfort, wrapped under a freshly laundered duvet whilst my wet gear hung snuggly drying in their aptly named Drying Room next door. Add in the quiet guest lounge to relax in before bed and the incredibly well equipped kitchen for fixing up some food and there really was nothing to complain about.
The morning of day 4 started where day 3 had ended but, this time without any fishermen to negotiate or chat with. Still managing to stay rain free whilst on the river, today would be the coolest day of paddling which meant I was not just in shorts and t-shirt for the first time. Thankfully any wind was still mainly behind me and the river flow continued to ease me along at a gentle pace.
After 7 miles, I passed through the town of Brdigenorth which was cleverly named after a bridge over the River Severn which was built further north than an earlier bridge slightly further down stream (to the South.) I’m sure the town has many claims to fame but from the river, the only notable item of intrigued was a funicular railway which upon later research, purports to be England’s Oldest and Steepest Inland Electric Funicular Railway. Well, you learn something new everyday. (And for any Funicular Railway enthusiasts, the oldest in the country is the Saltburn Cliff Tramway which is located in Scarborough and is still in use today.)
From here, the river is accompanied by the Severn Valley Railway whos path mirrors that of the river and crosses over at several points. The smell and noise of heritage steam trains stayed with me for a couple of hours but sadly, trees, buildings and riverbanks meant any sight of a locomotive eluded me. As I had been making good time each day, I had mused with the idea of stopping for a longer and luxurious pub lunch at a river side establishment. This would have been a nice change of menu from the home made wraps I had been devouring thus far for lunch. Sadly, as each pub came into view it became clear non were equipped to welcome water born visitors and I paddled past each, imagining what feast would have been awaiting me within.
After 18 miles, as a foot bridge came into view, the left bank gave way to a small village complete with split level road, half raised up from the water whilst the other dipped towards the river itself meaning, with a slight rise in water levels, drivers would be given the option of splashing their wheels through the river. As I took in the views and said hello to the welcome swans, my cake senses fully kicked in as I saw a small café sign pinned to an otherwise unassuming building. Quickly turning and now paddling back against the surprisingly strong current, I inched my way upstream towards the sunken road where I soon disembarked. Stowing the board and bags safely above the water I made my way up the hill; excited at the prospect of tea and cake whilst at the same time, tempering my expectations in the assumption even if it was a café, it was most likely only open on weekends during summer months. Nervousness quickly gave way to delight at the sight of an open door and friendly smile within as a full smorgasbord of cakes and other sweet treats lay before me. Tea and brownie ordered I settled into a garden seat with views out over the river and valley.
The final 6 miles, although beautiful were uneventful and, by 14:00 I had arrive in Stourport-on-Severn, my stopping point for the day. The campsite owners had confirmed in advance by phone there was a lovely beach for me to exit the river from but, if this was their idea of a beach I’m never going on holiday with any of them. A slippy, muddy bank greeted me meaning I quickly lost my footing and finally made it onto dry land with a distinctly soggy bottom. Their main camping area was situated further in land but, as I was arriving via river they allowed me to camp in their riverside Rally field meaning I soon became the center of attention for the army of grey haired motorhome owners who had come from far and near for a week of, well; I’m not too sure what. Campervaning?
My again early arrival allowed time to head off an explore Stourport and I’m so glad I did. A place I’d never heard of had so much history and sights to keep be interested and entertained. At one point in its existence, Stouport had been the busiest inland port in the country, acting as a conduit between the Severn and it’s access down to the ocean and the inland canal network feeding Wolverhampton, Birmingham and beyond.
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