17/02/2026
So after what feels like three straight weeks of proper Shropshire damp – not dramatic rain, just that cold, clingy stuff that seeps into your bones and refuses to leave – we decided the obvious solution was to go cycling in it.
Fresh air, we said.
Be good for us, we said.
And to be fair, it was beautiful in that stubborn British way. Big skies, empty lanes, the sort of quiet that makes you feel very noble… until you realise your feet have gone completely numb and your “winter” gloves are nothing more than decorative suggestions.
We look warm in the photo. We were lying.
By the time we got home, the hot whisky didn’t so much get drunk as politely escorted straight down the throat. It vanished with impressive efficiency. So a pint of Guinness had to step in and do what Guinness does best – restore order and dignity.
It didn’t hang about either.
Anyway… two days of wind, miles and questionable decisions done. Back at work tomorrow looking after you lot, fully thawed and pretending this was all part of a sensible recovery strategy.
If you’re feeling as damp and done-in as the weather lately… we’ll get you sorted
