I’ll never forget the drive to Shrewsbury last month – we’d packed the car with crisps, wellies, and a dodgy sat-nav that decided to send us on a scenic detour through some narrow lanes near Telford. Just as we were cursing the thing (politely, mind), a sheep ambled out in front of us, forcing an emergency stop. Cue laughter all round, and we arrived at our contemporary ground-floor apartment on the outskirts of town a bit later than planned, but buzzing with anticipation. Pulling up, I was chuffed to bits – it looked spot-on for us, all one-level and welcoming, with that perfect Shrewsbury vibe just a stroll away.

First impressions? Bloody brilliant. We stepped into the spacious open-plan living space, kitchen gleaming and ready for action, dining table begging for a proper feast, and sofas screaming ‘cosy night in’. After unpacking, we cracked open a bottle of wine, rustled up pasta in the well-equipped kitchen, and flopped on the sofas for a film. It felt like home from the off, especially knowing we could wander into town or beyond without a car.

Shropshire’s walking country, isn’t it? We’d planned epic hikes from the get-go. Day one dawned crisp and sunny – ideal for the Quarry walk right in Shrewsbury. That loop around the massive parkland, with its shimmering river and quirky flowerbeds shaped like teapots, was pure magic. We wandered for hours, spotting swans and grabbing coffees at a café overlooking the water. Felt like we’d stepped into a postcard.

But oh, the British weather – it’s got a wicked sense of humour. Next morning, we eyed up a jaunt to the nearby Lyle’s Wood, just a couple of miles out, with its ancient trees and babbling brooks. Skies were blue, so off we went on foot along the paths skirting town. Two hours in, the heavens opened. Proper Shropshire deluge! We dashed under dripping oaks, giggling like kids, coats soaked through. Plans for a full afternoon tramp to the riverbanks? Scrapped. Back at the flat, we dried off, brewed endless teas, and turned it into a lazy baking session – scones with clotted cream, devoured at the dining table while rain lashed the windows.

By day three, the forecast was grim again, so we pivoted to shorter wanders: a gentle loop through the bustling streets to Shrewsbury Abbey, dodging puddles and popping into indie shops for pasties. The weather forced us to savour the little things – like how the rain made the hills beyond town look all misty and mysterious from our sitting area. One evening, post-hike (a soggy yomp along the Severn), we cosied up with wine and a rom-com, reflecting on how these curveballs make holidays memorable. Me? I’m the eternal optimist who forgets an umbrella, but it taught me to embrace the lot – sun, showers, and all.

We squeezed in one last sunny hike to the edges of town, paths winding through meadows alive with birdsong. Shropshire’s walks are a dream for that, especially from a base like this. Left feeling refreshed, a tad wiser about packing gear, and already plotting a return. If you’re after hassle-free exploring with weather-whipped adventures, this is your spot.