Unlike anywhere else I know of, some bus routes in Derbyshire are numbered using a decimal point: this morning, after getting to Bakewell I caught the 6.1 service to Middleton-by-Wirksworth.
When I got off the bus this was what immediately greeted me.
I found the lane that leads up to the High Peak Trail and soon reached Middleton Top.
About two miles further along the trail I reached Harboro' Rocks - the spelling with the apostrophe is the official version. My experience here was spoiled by a noisy industrial plant right next to the trail and the rocks, something to do with limestone I should think; making a constant syncopated hum interspersed with loud screeches and hissing...very annoying. There are some ruins at the foot of the rocks...and a large cave higher up the hill.
I caught my first glimpse of Carsington Water as I climbed high up on the rocks [not to the top though] and would get a better view later on...none of the photographs I took was any good.
After exploring the rocks I took the footpath that leads down to Brassington; it was raining now but not so much that I'd need to wear my cagoule - it was quite cold though. I needed to walk along a couple of stretches of road before I reached the village...and I did need to stop, reach into my rucksack and pull out my cagoule a few minutes later when the weather turned quite unpleasant, and stayed that way for over an hour.
I spent longer than I should have drinking my pot of tea and eating a packet of salt and vinegar crisps in the Miners Arms pub; initially I was the only customer, but eventually the village chimney sweep, an American, came in and ordered a Guinness. He had a fascinating conversation with the barmaid; I couldn't work out if he was trying to get inside her knickers, or up her flue.
The church is just across the road from the pub.
It was a gentle walk across the fields to Carsington, where the church there was also open and some of the photographs I took inside here turned out okay.
There was then a stretch of road to walk along, passing through Hopton and then across the meadows and down to Wirksworth. When I arrived at the bus stop and was studying the timetable a man told me that the buses weren't running to timetable - up to half an hour late. One was due imminently, it might have even already gone, so I spent the next forty five minutes standing in the same place like a statue, concentrating on the road ahead making sure that I didn't miss the bus.
I had another forty five minutes to wait at Bakewell for the Sheffield bus, but at least I was able to look round the town and take some photographs.
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