Woolly says – It was a cold and murky looking day as we piled into the car for the journey over the border to meet up with the bestie. I had found what appeared to be a great walk for Alfie the Dog with some sculptures to look out for the rest of us at the Mere in Ellesmere, Shropshire.

The Mere is one of the largest natural meres in England outside the Lake District and one of nine glacial meres in the area, here since the ice age I had to wonder if any of my ancestors might have once drunk from the waters. Arriving at the agreed carpark we were met with a closed gate, as Jo reversed and headed towards the next car park along I checked the phone to see that Jen had sent us a message to tell us where Sion and her had parked, another reversing operation and a short drive back the way we had come led us to them.

It was cold as we set off, the conditions didn’t seem to bother the local geese population who happily wandered up and down the bank honking at anyone passing.

As the women do what they always do on the talking front Sion and I kept our eyes peeled for sculptures and we didn’t have long to wait as we arrived at one called the sisters which consisted of two poles buried in the ground. Next came and engraved block which Barking Boy took the time to admire before leaving his mark.

A small child seemed to be trapped under a canopy which was a strange site as were the super long reeds that swayed in the breeze marking the edge of the Mere.

A weeping willow seemed to have sprung its own pond next to a carving that looked remarkably like a shield. I spotted another slightly off the path and having pointed it out to the humans Jen told us that it might be a mammoth, I raced across the greenery to inspect only to find that it was a bee. How on earth can you confuse a mammoth with a bee! I think these women need new glasses.

The tree lined route took us further round giving us glimpses of the freezing water.

The muddy mutt came across another sculpture that looked like a cocoon for a giant butterfly. As the path became muddier, we arrived at a large wooden sshhh which looked like great fun for climbing over for myself and my bestie but just because it said to sshhh it didn’t mean we did.

As the terrain underfoot became more and more boggy with little chance of getting through without a mud bath, we retraced our steps and headed through the town of Ellesmere towards the canal basin.

The Ellesmere Canal, which was first proposed in 1791, would have created a waterway between Netherpool, Cheshire, and Shrewsbury. However, only certain sections were completed due to money running out these were eventually incorporated into the Chester Canal, Montgomery Canal and Shropshire Union Canal. A winding machine stood on the bank next to an old warehouse.

Boats lined the towpath many with flumes of smoke puffing out of their chimneys as the owners sat warming inside. We arrived at a junction with a curiously rounded house on the far side known as Beech House which had been built by Thomas Telford in 1806.

Following the towpath to the right we passed a small seated shelter which celebrated the Blacksmiths and wheelwrights that would have once worked nearby. Opposite were the main yards that would have once been busy loading and unloading the barges that came through.

With time ticking and tummies grumbling we turned round and headed back towards the Mere passing a large tree trunk which had the friendliest of robins on it, as Jo attempted to capture the inquisitive bird Sion and I set our minds on lunch and a good sit down so we could catch up on travel plans for the year and when we might be able to meet up again.