Friday 19th July
Since the last post Anthony has returned from Prague and Amsterdam and Stephen and Kazumi have returned from a three day sojourn in London...and now Anthony has gone to Cardiff in Wales and from there he will fly to Barcelona for a few days. Peter and I take the nat express from Hickstead to London Victoria and then on to Morton via Bourne.
The "Jones's" collected us from gate A at the Bourne international bus station(!) and on to Morton to settle in and off to the pub for "two for one" and very satisfactory it was. A trifle disappointing that the raspberry crop is a virtual failure this year.
Saturday 20th July
Just time to splash around a bit of water to keep plants alive for the next five days through the continuing drought and we're off. Jones claims to have done extensive research and preparation to ensure our driving holiday through the Derbyshire Peaks and Dales....however this seems to have been limited to sending off for about one hundredweight of brochures and then putting them in a compendium. A new sat nav has been purchased however it is used sparingly as Jones sometimes takes offence at "Doris'" bullying and insistent haranguing that he obey her commands and she is relegated to the glove box.
First stop is Melton Mowbray the home of officially the best pork pies in the world....where some ridiculously extravagant purchases were made. Chris could not resist the purchase of three large PPs for a fiver and then added another to the basket so that we could have one each....Peter then couldn't resist a further two because they were topped with Stilton cheese. The cholesterol levels have been raised to the region of 9mm/l just from looking at this quantity of lard and all our livers are developing lumps in anticipation of the digestive/emulsifying efforts that will soon be demanded of them. Then of course it was necessary to purchase two(!) jars of gooseberry pickle for the picnic lunch.
We resisted the temptation to get stuck in immediately and exercised great restraint for a couple of hours...distracting ourselves with just driving through the countryside and having cups of tea in a wee village etc. Finally we found a small lake/stream in a park and settled in to give this feast a good seeing to......even the ducks seemed to be expressing disgust at our gluttony.
More country driving through beautiful and sometimes dramatic terrain....hikers, bikers and cyclists and cavers in abundance. Drove through Mattlock Bath which looked interesting so parked up and had a walk...a bit disappointing in reality a bit like Blackpool all kiss me quick hats and dirty postcards and full to the gunnels with bikers and people who are unlikely to win any beautiful people competitions! This used to be a popular place for Victorian gentlefolk to "take the waters".
Thence Mattlock where we had a wander around in an effort to locate the Duke of Wellington where we had considered bide-ing a wee, but had ultimately decided to move on to Chesterfield where we had a beer in the Rutland and then dined handsomely at the Lombardi. Chris had an interesting interaction with one of the waiters about which least said the better and then we shared interesting reminiscences on gardening.
A super day, we are all a bit weary and looking forward to long and serene slumber...HUH!
Saturday night in Chesterfield after a skinful, the youth of this ancient market town gathered outside our bedroom window and discussed philosophical matters related to existentialism, exchanged sociological observations and witticisms and of course across the full decibel spectrum.
Today we have been through Melton Mowbray, Coalville, Ashby, Newborough, Abbots Bromley, Uttoxeter, Rocester, Ashbourne, Brassington, Cromford, Mattlock Bath, Mattlock, and Chesterfield.
Sunday 21st July
Today includes Chesterfield, Chatsworth, Bakewell, Rainow and Bollington.
We start the day with an interesting chat with Jeff Evans one of the UK's cadre of professional cricket umpires. He has been in town for three days umpiring a series of county games. He is a Welshman and replaced Dicky Bird's position on the list when Dicky retired. Interesting conversation covering a range of topics and sharing interesting perspectives on the game, the rules, the press and some of the current and previous players and officials.
Wandered around Chesterfield, into the church with the twisted spire, through the centre of the township but its a bit too early on a Sunday morning for interesting action. So it's off to Chatsworth House the domicile of the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire where three quid was extorted from these four old age pensioners to allow us to park the car in the cow field and then a further eight quid a piece to wander through the gardens. All nice enough, maze, fountains etc, nice rockery etc.
Next stop Bakewell for a cuppa and a Bakewell tart. All of you who are munching away on tarts with white icing and a cherry on top are not eating the real deal! The traditional tart is baked as a slab and does not have the super sweet icing and cherry.....you will enjoy much more street cred with the locals if you opt for the "traditional". Bakewell is an attractive town, today it is thronged with milling about tourists aided by the fact of it being a Sunday and the sun is shining. Seems like a thriving local community.
Then it was off to Eyam, the plague village. How fascinating this was, a good, simple but informative museum. This village is thought to have been afflicted when some cloth which was damp and when dried out released hatched infected fleas was sent to the local tailor. The village was quarantined with no one allowed in or out. The villagers buried their own dead.....by this I mean the family was personally responsible for burying their own dead. In this way the villagers contained the outbreak and effectively sacrificed themselves and saved their neighbours in surrounding villages. Some families were wiped out. Some left just a sole survivor, like poor Elizabeth Hancock who buried her husband and six children in just eight days. Each body she dragged from her home, dug the grave, and filled it herself.
Then we are off to Macclesfield to locate our digs for the night. Common Barn Farm. The approach to same is along increasingly remote countryside and prompts the in-car onversation to comparisons with the TV show the League of Gentlemen. All is well however when we finally locate Common Barn Farm and settle in. We drive into Bollington ....the long way ( this will become characteristic over the next few days!) and after sampling a few of the ales on tap to decide our preferences we make ourselves comfortable. The tv is showing the final stage of the Tour de France (muted) which provides a good background. One of the beers...the "old knobbly" according to Jones..... is brewed in this tiny village by a lone handed brewer who brews about three different beers over the annual seasons. The food was terrific but Chris and Peter had to fight over the last available slice of Beef and Stilton pie. Froome won the Tour...good....but Cavendish managed only third for the stage...bad.
We had some interesting parking adventures today....some more interesting than others...enough said!
Monday 22nd
Spent time chatting over breakfast with our landlady who is a local girl, but she has been to London ...once. We walked across a couple of sheep dung laden paddocks to get a good view of the dam which now covers the previous farm property.
Then we're off to do some local exploring....sticking to a firm principal, that we have devised ourselves...that the shortest route between two points does not have to be a single straight line. This enabled us to view several sites from different perspectives...and a number of times. This approach stood us in good stead all day today so I suspect we have developed a greater familiarity with sections of the Peak District than most visitors to the area. Peter assures me that adhering to the marine navigation principle of 'great circle courses' is appropriate in these circumstances.
After circulating through Rainow, Bollington etc a few times we made our way to Macclesfield where we located the old Hovis Mill now converted to apartments...on the banks of a canal with a sizeable number of narrow boats both moored and on the move. And interesting to observe a funeral being organised for some chap who lived on one. Nothing much else to recommend Macclesfield so it was on the hunt for the White Nancy beacon in the locality but without success, so on to Castleton, the Caverns and driving through some fantastic scenery reminiscent of a mini Glen Coe, all fabulous.
Then on to Whaley Bridge.....their only claim to fame seems to be the association with the Roman road! However the local railway station is a credit to the service...beautifully maintained and an absolutely pristine toilet....these things take on special significance when you are travelling lol.
On to Buxton which was obviously a grand place in the Victorian era when great use was made of the thermal baths. But as with many of these northern towns, when the mills collapsed the impact on the local communities was devastating. We managed to buy...and consume...the worst milkshake any of us had ever had before. This place has a pillar box painted gold...this denotes the winning of a gold medal in the 2012 London Olympic Games was won by someone in the area.
Then on to Glossop and Windy Harbour Farm....ok....off to the Wheatsheaf in Old Glossop for a dram or two and a scrumptious meal. Back to the Farm lodgings for a night cap in the garden.
Tuesday 23rd July
Woke to a fierce thunderstorm. And after a good breakfast it's off to drive across the moors, to Derwent Waters where they practiced the manoeuvres for the ultimate Dam Busters campaign. It's still raining but all adding to the atmosphere. We were forced at one stage to ford a swollen stream...Jones was like Moses....parting of the Red Sea on a small scale. Fantastic scenery. Into Holmfilth...Home of the Summer Wine country. Had a drink and a hot buttered tea cake in Sid's Cafe and took a photo with a Nora Batty cutout....and then took the LotSW bus tour around the town and surrounding villages which have served as locations for the show. Passed the pub where the local branch of the Luddites would convene to plan the next episode of sabotage on the local Mills.
Back in town we visit the local church ground to see Compo's grave then popped into the 'lephant and (C)as(tle) for a half....but did NOT tarry! On to Brambles....much better..and back there later for dinner.
Back to the room....disaster....the venue next door is kicking off! And it is really hot and stuffy in the room and can't shut the noise out without suffocating......not looking forward to a good night's sleep! Peter makes a sortie to the reception desk to warn them that there was likely to be words in the morning.
Wednesday 24th July
An extremely trying night.....the room which is described as basic at best...is unbelievably hot and stuffy ...and the ghastly Irish band played the same set of kitchen Irish songs at each rotation.....we had to turn the TV up to full volume to counteract. Poor night sleep so words were exchanged with the management, resulting in a very modest discount and no indication whatsoever that any corrective action would be taken for the benefit of future patrons.
Today we are going to mooch until about 2pm when we will head south for home. So it's off first to Saddleworth Moor....site of the burial of the moors murderer victims (Ian Brady and Myra Hindley) Hebden Bridge, Howarth, Ilkley.
Doris in serious trouble today when she maliciously and insistently directed Jones down an ever deteriorating track until he finally became revolting and, after completing a ten point turn in trying circumstances, he retraced his steps until Tarmac was finally under the wheels.
Both Hebden Bridge and Ilkley are very substantial towns with an aura of prosperity about them. Howarth is the heart of Bronte country....full of twee shops and tourists. We went into the (rebuilt) church where the remains of the family are interred. The father outlived the rest of the family none of whom lived beyond 39. More eraser success.
Peter a mite irritable so blood sugar levels were replenished in Ilkley! And we turn South and eventually onto the motorway. Home in good time and off to the Sugar Mill for tea. The place was bedlam customers everywhere and not enough staff...the mild weather and the school holidays has everyone within ten miles out for tea both inside and out. The staff were excellent despite the pressure. Met some new "friends"! At the next table and Jones in awe at our ability to be welcomed into people's lives and homes lol. Good plain tucker and we waddled home to fall asleep in front of the TV prior to climbing the stairs. We've had a great week with beautiful scenery, interesting places and very very good company....oh yes and good weather (in the main)
Thursday 25th July
Slow start to the day....some harvesting of the pea crop...chaps put to work shelling....Jo helping with quality testing. Peter about to make a claim against the household....he has developed an industrial acquired injury...see photo...picture illustrates one afflicted hand although both are afflicted...the Jones could be left completely destitute if the claim is successful. Preliminary diagnosis....Pea Pod Pickers Palsy.
Raspberries next!
Taken out to dinner for the big farewell by the 'Jones' at a delightful Pub in a small Hamlet near Morton called Threekingham. The Pub strangely enough was called the 'Three Kings Inn'. Excellent meal with a good Barmaid.
Friday 26 July
Departure Morton - usual goings on for a day of departure and then it was off to the B I C T for our journey back to Henfield courtesy of National Express.
Uneventful until Peterborough where everyone was kicked off Coach / Bus due to an imminent fire, rear wheels smoking and red hot. After an hours delay we and the other 34 passengers were provided with Taxis and taken to Luton Airport where a transfer to another coach was made to ferry us to London. We just managed to make our connection to Hickstead (picked up for final leg to Henfield).
So another adventure ends!!
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