Sunday, August 2, 2015

Fox House, Froggatt, and Baslow

What a nightmare! I wish I hadn't gone walking in the Peak District today; I had a terrible day on public transport - I'm absolutely shattered. I arrived at the railway station to find out that engineering work had been scheduled at fairly short notice and so the trains weren't running to Sheffield, I walked over to the bus station and got on the X78 bus to Sheffield which was then held up at the roadworks at Conisbrough. By the time of my return journey to Doncaster I was hoping the trains would be back to normal: I was mistaken, the engineering work was going to last all day, and to make matters worse someone had committed suicide by jumping in front of a train on the Hope Valley Line, meaning that even more rail replacement coaches were required at Sheffield Bus Station. It was chaos; several people desperate to get to Stockport nearly ended up on the Doncaster coach.

Welcome to the Northern Powerhouse.

Back to the day's walk...

I got off the bus at Fox House and meandered along paths on the Longshaw estate which I hadn't explored before; just killing time really, waiting for the weather to brighten up. By the time I'd taken these two photographs there had already been a marked improvement.







After leaving Longshaw Estate I walked along the road for a few yards and then took the footpath just beyond The Grouse Inn.



I crossed a meadow and then was walking in dense woodland; it was very dark in there. Somewhere in this wood, or maybe the next one I would be walking through, there's a statue of a woman on a plinth that was re-located from one of the local country houses. It seems a strange thing to do, and I don't know the story, but it could probably be something to do with a family dispute. I did pass three structures that looked as though they might be empty plinths without statues - I did read somewhere though a while ago that they are something to do with supplying the local villages with water.

The path leads up to the top road where the highest part of Froggatt is, some very houses here, and The Chequers pub, which I've never been inside.

Just beyond The Chequers I took a path which leads up through woodland and then continues parallel to Curbar Edge; in places where there were fewer trees I could see walkers and climbers up there.



This path comes out onto Curbar Gap, just below the official car park. I had to climb up a fairly steep section of road and then take the middle of three parallel paths which go to Baslow, one was above me along the top of Baslow edge, and one was below, near to the bottom of the valley.

I had time to visit the public toilets and then go for a pot of tea and a slice of Bakewell pudding at The CafĂ© On The Green. Written on the wall of the cubicle in the gents' toilets was an interesting piece of graffiti; some poor sod has a very unusual and degrading sexual paraphilia and was begging for help, as far as I could make out. I took a photograph of the wording but have decided not to publish it here because I don't want for it to end up bouncing all over the internet. 

I caught the 240 service back to Sheffield; I haven't travelled on it before. It takes a route that goes through Ringinglow.