A rest day, of sorts. Only 25 miles to go, and half of that along fairly flat terrain. Admittedly there was the minor technicality of the hilly bit between Bridgnorth and Ironbridge, but that was only about 12 miles and included some spectacular descents.

I had had another bad night's sleep. I really needed some kind of blindfold, as my tent got far too light in the mornings, and things would only get worse as I headed North and the solstice approached. Having a peacock cry out right next to the tent at 5am can't have helped, and I was sorely tempted to go out and wring its neck, pesky little beggar. I managed to oversleep my 7.30 alarm call, as, draping my coat sleeve over my eyes to keep out the light, I had also covered my ear. Karrimor Weathertite has quite exceptional sound-muffling capabilities! As a result, I woke up just after the weather forecast on Today, and then missed the summary while I was in the shower. Digging out the (very) amateur meteorologist in me, I looked skywards, and didn't particularly like what I saw.

I got away shortly after 10, grabbing a very nutritious breakfast of a flapjack, Snickers bar and pint of milk in the campsite shop. Mm, yummy! I avoided the hellish climb of the evening before, but short of cheating and taking the funicular, it was impossible to avoid a certain amount of climbing in Bridgnorth. The road to Ironbridge was one continuous series of dips and climbs, and in the first hour I averaged 9.5mph. The next mile and a half pushed the average up to 10.3 as I thundered down the long descent to Ironbridge. An elderly couple in the car park at Ironbridge commended me on the time I'd made, as they had passed me some way back, but had not been there long. I wheeled Mercury over the bridge, one marvel of engineering meeting another! After a short break to take in the view (and photograph it) I set off again.

The remainder of the ride was quite flat. A couple of roadies came the other way, and gave me the characteristic nod - you have to watch very carefully or you'll miss it. Then an Aussie on a tractor pulled alongside me, and we chatted for a while. Apparently he'd seen my flag and, his curiosity aroused, he went after me to investigate. He was gaining on me nicely when suddenly I pulled away from him again. Must have been a downhill stretch - nothing beats a recumbent downhill! Our ways parted as he was off to play on the Wrekin. Knowing the Wrekin, a rather large hill overlooking Telford, I chose not to join him, but headed for Wroxeter instead.

The B4380 between Buildwas and Wroxeter is what cycle touring is all about. A very quiet but well maintained B road meandering across a gently undulating countryside. I was in cycle heaven! Stopping off at Wroxeter (where I had been just 2 weeks earlier in a very different role) to buy some postcards, a group of primary school children went by, staring all the while. Then the final 6 miles into Shrewsbury, not the most pleasant of rides, as the roads into town are quite busy, and as I didn't really know where I was going. I ended up in the centre, looking for somewhere to stay. A guy came up to me and congratulated me on my speed. Apparently he had passed me between Bridgnorth and Ironbridge, and was surprised that I had made it to Shrewsbury so quickly. I tried to tell him that it was only 20 miles, after all…

I passed the Lion Hotel, where I had already had to stay once many years ago when my lift back from Wroxeter broke down. I remembered it as a pleasant place, but worried about the price. Eventually finding the Tourist Information, I didn't want to leave Mercury outside while queuing for service, so I just consulted the map and information board outside. The Lion was in fact not too expensive, so I went back to see if I could get some kind of deal. They threw in breakfast for free, so I accepted and checked in. Nobody bothered to help me with my bags, so I just dumped them in reception while I went to lock Mercury up in the garage at the back.

I was hungry, but my washing took precedence. I threw everything into the bathtub and left it to soak while I went for lunch. I suppose I should have removed my watch from my pocket before washing my shirt. But then I wouldn't have found out whether or not my watch is waterproof. Well, you'll be glad to know that it is. After this long soaking my clothes actually came quite clean for a change.

Next, shopping. My front V-brake pads had worn worryingly quickly (what else could I expect, taking that load down those hills in those conditions?), so I bought some replacement pads, just in case. I raided Boots for most of its sports bars and powdered sports drinks, and bought some crisp, clean clothes in M&S to make me feel clean again. I quite liked Shrewsbury, but for the horrendous traffic chaos in the centre. I returned to my room to send some SMSs on my phone (being able to recharge the phone at length, I could be a little less economical with the battery for a change), watched some TV and tried to persuade my clothes to dry, which seemed quite a forlorn hope. All the while I was waiting for Sabine to arrive. But as she wouldn't be leaving work till 5.30, it was going to be a long wait. I did some more extensive route planning, and sorted out the things I wanted to send back with Sabine - some of my clothes (she was bringing fresh supplies), used maps which I didn't need anymore, spare candles which I was not going to need, my cycle helmet (which had come all the way from Land's End strapped to my rack), my Rough Guide to Britain (failed the weight/benefit ratio), spare pans, my mallet (yes, I had brought a mallet for camping. Maybe the guy at St John Street Cycles was right about my packing).

Sabine made good time, and arrived at 8.15. We went out to repark the car in the hotel garage, and then went out to dinner. There was a pleasant modern restaurant near the hotel, which was a tad pricey but served very nice food. I had the duck I had been promising myself since Bridgnorth…