Return To Ludlow & Edinburgh

 

Today's Columbus Day or as you like to call it, "Indigenous Peoples' Day," but two weeks ago it was just another Monday in Sadiq Khan's London, a warm one at that. Almost as though the Sceptered Isle's capital city hadn't paid enough weather tax, which is Net Zero absurd because of course it has, why else would energy be so expensive there? Regardless, I strolled over to the train station, Euston, and rode the rails to Ludlow, a beautiful market town on the border with savage and doubtless Anarcho-Soviet Wales.

Typical Communist Street Scene

"Why Ludlow?" asked an old friend who I met at the town's small but well put together train station the following day. "Because," I replied with razor sharp logic, "I like it, and I have friends here." He seemed to understand, "Ah, now I understand," and we toiled up the hill to the center of town and the Blue Boar pub, lunch and the arrival of MCP, our old boss or Guv'nor in the mid '90s. Great fun, and I think we drank the place clean of Viognier. Were my friends there Communist? No, they were not, and some considerably not.

Room with a view

Neither, I think, was the town itself, unless you count unspoiled late medieval architecture and a market overlooked by a fortress somehow Marxist. And guess what? The place clearly needs to pay a steep fine for its appalling lack of DEI. Didn't see one single burqa or anything even approaching it. Huh. Go to Ludlow if you can, it's very pleasant or as my old boss would say, "Middle Earth."

Edinburgh

Then it was time to move, that being a sign of life, and the movement took me to Edinburgh and the Royal Scots Club (RSC) thanks to a weirdly cheap off-peak rail ticket via Crewe. I like Edinburgh a lot, once you get past the tartan gifte shoppes, and I especially enjoy the RSC, but was it taken over by the Frankfort School and Rainbow Marxism? I sat at the bar to find out.

RSC

Before long, a group of men set up beside me and we fell to talking, lo and behold, they worked in the arms trade or adjacent and go figure, they weren't commies, not at all, quite the reverse. This same pattern occurred twice over so many days and we all got along famously, go figure. That was the day shift, the evenings were mostly taken up with a trad crew of younger guys who seemed to mostly look up to Enoch Powell. No, they weren't Bolsheviks, far from it, and we had a lot of fun.

Note Tartan as opposed to DEI

As with Ludlow, visit the RSC if you can, not a Snackbar in sight and if you're a member you get a great discount on rooms, but much of the place is open to the public in a small, relaxed country house hotel kind of way, so don't let membership stop you from visiting. The Club was founded after WWI as a monument to the men of the Royal Scots Regiment, Pontius Pilate's Bodyguard, who gave their lives in the conflict.

Fast Mover

Next stop on this whirlwind tour of the UK? Cheltenham, a town of contrasts, lovely Georgian buildings as if set in a park, and bikers. Perhaps I'd find the Islamo-Marxist Caliphate there.

Stay Tuned,

LSP

On To Ludlow

 

All too soon it was time to leave the rain washed, windswept streets of the Athens of the North and the comfort of the Royal Scots and head to Ludlow. I rode the rails to this charming market town, once home to the Council of the Marches and a key defensive point against savage Welsh raiders.

Today the town's less about beating back the ferocious Welsh and recalcitrant nobility and more about butchers, bakers, fishmongers, green grocers, outstanding late Medieval and Georgian architecture and... pubs. We liked the Blue Boar, with its fire and mostly peaceful ambiance.

And walking too. If you go to this gem of a border town, take time to stroll around the castle, the river and, if you're feeling adventurous, climb up into the hills above the town. I asked my friends if there were bears in the woods, apparently there aren't, but we did see a large buzzard which reminded me of home. As did a view of the Malverns, which I used to be able to see from my bedroom window as teenager in Cheltenham. Memories.

Speaking of which, on the last day there, my old boss MCP drove over to visit at the Blue Boar. Onetime poacher turned gamekeeper in the IT world of the '90s and '00s, he's become an author and published a book to critical acclaim in Dublin. It's called Long Lost Log and details his adventures sailing across the Atlantic as crew in an eccentric "thoroughbred" of a boat in 1974. What a lot of fun to meet up.

So well done MCP and big thanks to S&K for great Shropshire hospitality. And now? Back to London for a few days before heading home to Texas.

Cheers,

LSP