retiredmartin

July 2026. Whitchurch. Salop.

Apart from visiting (spoiler) five pubs in Whitchurch, what is there to actually do in this compact little borders town of 10,000 if the award winning pie maker is unexpectedly closed ?

Well, I could have got my hair cut at a barbers with the best window display in decades,

and a sideline in antique plastic toys. I could have bought a hula hoop from the accompanying toy shop to enjoy at the undulating old Jubilee Park.

First I was hoping for some artisanal local grub, but the High Street seemed bigger on takeaways than fine dining,

a plan by the local Michelin restaurant to takeover the centrepiece Elizabethan House having stalled.

Come on, Wetherspoons !

Walkers is the prettiest bakery-cum-cafe-cum-deli,

and after a lifetime of dithering I settled for a meat-heavy pork pie which would have been better warm.

And I’m sorry if that’s sacrilgeous.

Behind my pork pie is the Heritage Centre, which defies the weekenders by opening Tuesdays, Thursdays and 1st Saturday of the month only. Just for a change, the town museum opening coincides with my visit.

It’s from the “stuffed with stuff” school of local history (see also : Royston),

Lots of stuff about clocks, but it’s the fontage on the first edition of the Whitchurch Herald you’re here for,

and a reminder of when the town was part of Wales. Perhaps it still is. Perhaps we all are.

Right, let’s take a break. You can have too much culture.