Friday, May 4, 2018

High Bradfield, Ashopton, Yorkshire Bridge, and Bamford

I arrived at High Bradfield at 08:05 this morning, the earliest I've arrived in the Peak District to start a walk. I headed for the churchyard and the footpath that passes through it leading up on to the moors, passing by Bailey Hill and the scant remains of the castle earthworks.  



I was nearly attacked by the sheep...or in truth, I nearly tripped up as I stepped out of their way.


There was  some lovely countryside for me to enjoy as I climbed upwards and there was always a rainbow just in front of me that I never could reach...or even take a photograph of.







The crossing of the moors was easy - underfoot it was either a wide, well-drained bridleway or a series of stone slabs laid across the boggy sections: I even jogged part of the way, maybe even halfway. It felt good. It's a bit bleak and monotonous though up here, but the scenery got a lot more interesting when I reached Derwent Edge with its surreal fantastical rock formations and stunning views down into the valley - it wasn't the best viewing conditions today though.







I stopped for a rest and to eat the last of my sandwiches, a flapjack actually, at the Wheelstones, a  large prominent group of rocks set back a few yards from the main path. I seemed to have intruded on a 'glamour' photoshoot and probably caused a halt in the proceedings. I didn't know what was going off at the time; all I was aware of was two large bald men speaking to each other in what sounded like Polish to me...and them re-arranging some expensive looking camera equipment. It was only when I'd left and was several dozen yards away and I decided to stop and look back at the view that I realised what they were probably doing when I caught a glimpse of a very sexy young women stepping out from behind one of the rocks, briefly into view, hurriedly wrapping herself in a shiny bright yellow latex raincoat that was very short. She had attractive legs; I didn't go back for a closer look though...I decided to settle for the attractive views of the countryside.

I arrived at Whinstone Lee Tor, from where there's a fantastic view right up the valley, with the reservoir in the bottom...I was literally just a few seconds too late to get a good view of one of the aircraft of the Dambusters' Memorial Flight; I only caught the briefest glimpse but I think it might have been the Lancaster Bomber. I think the pilot must have training or rehearsing for the celebration flypast for the seventy fifth anniversary of the destruction of the dams in Germany during the war. The actual anniversary is coming up in only a couple of weeks' time...and there will be thousands of people attending the event.

I found a different footpath down to Ashopton and then needed to walk along the road past Yorkshire Bridge and then down to Bamford, where I had time to visit the church for the first time. 





The church isn't very old; it's got a tall steeple which I couldn't fit in any of my shots...I couldn't find any suitable angle or location. The building was open and so I went inside; most of my photographs were out of focus, but I did get this one image of the best of the stained glass.



As I was waiting for the bus at Bamford a woman drove up in a car and started erecting some large signs in a prominent position on the grass verge at the side of the road: these signs read 'Get Down To Spanky Johnson.' and mentioned that he'd be performing at one of the local pubs.

When the bus arrived a few minutes later it was full of local schoolchildren going home. Some of the children had noticed the signs; I immediately heard the phrase 'Get Down To Spanky Johnson' being hurled about the bus, and a lot of shouting and laughing, and some lewd and crude comments...and then there were the sounds of slapping or even spanking, and the resulting comments and observations.

It felt as though I'd been dropped right into the middle of a 'Carry On' film...I'll let you decide the title though.

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