It was another unexpectedly warm Saturday in September, the kind of day that makes you feel like you’ve stolen something from summer. We were gathered around Bob’s kitchen table, mugs of tea in hand, putting the world to rights, when Bob casually mentioned he could go for a pasty from Eley’s Pork Pies over in Ironbridge.
That was all it took. Mention food to a group of hungry bikers and the debate is over before it starts, within minutes we were pulling on helmets, creaking into leathers, and heading west in pursuit of quality pastry.
The route to Ironbridge won’t win any awards for excitement, it has to be said. There’s no great sweeping road to speak of, but arriving in the town itself more than makes up for it.
We parked up alongside a handful of other bikes near the end of the famous Iron Bridge, which, as luck would have it, sits almost directly opposite Eley’s.
Now, Ironbridge is a place of genuine historical significance. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site, home to ten award-winning museums, and the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution.
The world’s first iron bridge stands right there in front of you, a remarkable feat of 18th-century engineering that changed the course of history.
We paid it absolutely no attention whatsoever, instead, we pulled up chairs outside Eley’s, got stuck into some pies, cracked open a few cans of Diet Coke, and made the most of the September sunshine. Sometimes that’s exactly what a Saturday ride is for.
