What a splendid week! We had four days away in the Peak District with good friends – who knew the Peak District was so gorgeous? Probably everyone who’s ever visited. The weather wasn’t brilliant, grey and overcast much of the time with some bright sunny intervals, but at least we weren’t washed away in the deluge the weather folks were predicting. Friday, the day we left to come home, the morning dawned bright and sunny which allegedly we’re going to enjoy for most of the coming week. Scorcio!
The cottage was in the middle of nowhere up a very narrow lane, about 2 miles outside the village of Longnor just south of Buxton in Derbyshire with gloriously glorious views across the surrounding countryside. It was very comfortable and provided a convenient base from which we could set out in all directions to explore the Peak District.
We visited Ilam Park, a National Trust property, just down the road for a lovely stroll with the dogs along the river Manifold. Wild garlic was growing wild along the river-side path and the smell was intoxicating – absolutely lovely.
After our stroll there we meandered our way along the road for a couple of miles to the Dovedale Stepping Stones. These were originally laid down for Victorian tourists in about 1890 and are now cared for by the National Trust. They’ve recently been loosened by severe weather and storms but that didn’t stop dozens of folks (including a whole primary school outing) from crossing them while we were there in spite of the numerous signs suggesting that this wasn’t a very good idea!
From the Stepping Stones we made our way to the “quintessential” English estate village of Tissington, a really lovely village. As it happens, unbeknown to us, our visit coincided with the traditional “Well Dressing” festival which takes place each year. The origins are a bit muddled but many believe the tradition started in 1349 to give thanks for pure water when the village was spared from the Black Death. An alternative explanation is, again, to give thanks for the uninterrupted supply of water during a period of severe drought.
The village has six wells and the villagers prepare these displays to be mounted at each well during the festival. Large panels of wood are coated with clay and then small stones, leaves, petals, etc. are placed on the boards to create a scene. Several had a religious context but others were very different – this year one of the panels was all about the Mister Men of which our boys will certainly be familiar.
The next day, Thursday, we set off to marvel at the Headstone Viaduct spanning Monsale Dale and the River Wye. What a glorious view which has, apparently inspired generations of artists and photographers. I don’t imagine my photos will garner any praise, however.
The viaduct was built to carry a railway line between Buxton and Bakewell and is 300 feet long with five arches and about 70 feet above the river. Vital for the railway, it wasn’t, however, universally popular.
There was a rocky valley between Buxton and Bakewell, once upon a time, divine as the Vale of Tempe. You enterprised a Railroad through the valley – you blasted its rocks away, heaped thousands of tons of shale into its lovely stream. The valley is gone, and the Gods with it; and now, every fool in Buxton can be in Bakewell in half an hour, and every fool in Bakewell at Buxton; which you think a lucrative process of exchange – you fools everywhere.
John Ruskin
There are some great photos on the Monsale Trail website.
From there we made our way to Eyam, a lovely little village which owes its “fame” to the plague of 1665-66, the Black Death. The plague reached Eyam via a flea-infested bundle of fabric sent from London to Alexander Hadfield, the local tailor. The fabric was a bit damp after the journey so Hadfield’s assistant, George Viccars, spread it out to dry in front of a fire. Within a few days Viccars was dead and others in his household succumbed as well.
The villagers naturally turned to their rector for guidance and, even though the causes of the plague were not known at the time, amongst other measures, they introduced a self-imposed quarantine to prevent the spread of the disease to other villages. Merchants from surrounding villages would send supplies to be left on “boundary stones.” The villagers would leave payment in holes in the stone which were filled with vinegar to disinfect the money.
My favourite story, however, concerns Andrew Merrill who decided to self-isolate. He built a himself a primitive hut of sorts on one of the hills overlooking the village and successfully evaded the plague accompanied only by his pet cockerel. I wish I knew the name of the cockerel.
The little museum there is a gem.
In all something like a quarter of the inhabitants died.
All too soon our visit came to an end. As we left on Friday morning the sun came out and the views across the countryside as we made our way home were stunningly gorgeous. We stopped at Adam and Ava’s on the way for a quick visit and a stroll around their local park.
We finally made our way home to a sweltering Moreton Pinkney just about in time for another “Not a Pub Night” at one of our lovely neighbours. Another lovely evening.
We’ve got a busy week ahead. On Thursday we have a trifecta of birthdays. It’s Penny’s birthday (or crap! This year I must remember to get at least a card) as well as Jessie’s and our lovely neighbour Jean’s. Happy Birthday to you all!
As a treat for Jessie we are taking her to the Royal Derngate Theatre in Northampton to hear Hamza Yassin speak. He is a wildlife photographer who has worked with David Attenborough and others. I heard him speak in February when we visited our friends Lesley and Graham in the Lake District and he was fantastic. Jessie has a keen developing interest in wildlife of all descriptions and I’m sure she will enjoy it.
Then, on Saturday we’re off to the Belgrade Theatre in Coventry taking Jessie and Juju to a production of the Gruffalo. No rest for the wicked.
And finally, Penny’s garden. . .
Stop Press: Penny discovered a new house martin nest in the garage! She went looking for some netting with which to prevent the pond getting overwhelmed by the falling hawthorn blossom and stumbled across a pile of bird poop. Thankfully, they’ve built the nest so that the poop falls just to the side of the campervan rather than all over it. Good job!
Meanwhile, keep breathing, keep happy, keep smiling, keep exercising, be good, be careful, and keep safe. And, be gentle to wasps and bees – we need all the pollinators we can get. And, hold your loved ones close.
Lots of love to you all,
Greg