What would otherwise have been a perfect day's walking was ruined again by a persistent cold wind, even stronger today than on other occasions; so strong that it made my eyes run and gave me earache. Fortunately it was a good day for photography, and I'm including a dozen pictures today.
Another walk with Chris from Leeds; we tend to do them on the first Saturday every month in the summer.
I arrived at Sheffield Railway Station with plenty of time to spare and so took the opportunity to use the toilets. As I was sitting on the pot in the cubicle I started the process off with a stream of loud farts, a man who I could hear washing his hands yelled out, "Come in Vicar!" I presumed he was referring to me and he was probably expecting me to reply with some standard response...well, I didn't have a clue as to what to say; I've never heard the phrase, 'Come in Vicar!' used in this context before. Does anyone reading the blog have any suggestions as to what I maybe should have said?
Walking through the concourse a few minutes later on my way to the bus station I was glad to see that the station piano had been returned...to a different location though.
Just outside, the table tennis tables had been set up for the summer season.
As usual I met Chris at Fox House, and we drove to Monyash.
We took a series of footpaths leading to the west, across fields or boxed in by drystone walls until we reached the High Peak Trail, a disused railway line.
We then walked along the trail, stopping at Parsley Hay to use the toilets and eat our sandwiches. Refreshments were on offer; for myself it was a choice between an ice cream, Bradwell's of Bradwell - my absolute favourite, or a mug of tea. I must apologies to Bradwell's - but today was a mug of hot tea day I'm afraid.
Just before reaching Parsley Hay we passed a strange looking building; I thought it was a re-constructed Iron Age roundhouse, but when we read the information board we found out that it was an Istrian kažun.
Our next stop was made at Hartington Station where there was quite a bit to see, especially for Chris, who's interested in railways. We spent a few minutes inside the old signal box which has been preserved and turned into a small museum.
Not much later we left the trail and took the footpath to the hamlet of Heathcote, then passing through some lovely countryside to reach Hartington.
When we reached Hartington I was somewhat disappointed with the village; my expectations were high after reading so many positive things about it online. It did have a few majestic buildings, which I photographed, but the village pond was more like an open-air septic tank filled with green slime...and every shot of anything interesting I wanted to shoot was ruined by parked cars and motorcycles. There was even a perspex bus shelter that was no different to those we have on the roughest council estates here in Doncaster.
However...I wasn't to be disappointed with the countryside as we continued our walk beyond Hartington, heading northwards back to Monyash. For a long while we were walking in one of the most beautiful valleys I've found in the Peak District...yet I don't know its name. I've studied my Ordnance Survey map, and looked at various maps online and no name is shown - all that I could find out is that the river that flows through the valley is the Dove, which forms the boundary between Derbyshire and Staffordshire at this point. Maybe its correct designation is the 'Upper Dove Valley'. I honestly don't know; can anyone help me?
We were both tiring a bit as we approached Monyash, but that's what happens on a walk. I'd certainly enjoyed myself exploring a part of the Peak District that I wouldn't otherwise get the chance to visit because I can't get there by public transport..I shall have to try to return there though..