A Circular Walk From Bakewell

My plan this morning was to catch the TransPeak bus at Bakewell and travel to Taddington...but it didn't show up - so after waiting at the bus stop until twenty minutes after it was due to depart I gave up and walked to Ashford in the Water.

Earlier I took some photographs of the Christmas decorations at Bakewell.

There are usually a couple of alpacas in this field.

I went inside the church at Ashford in the Water.

I climbed up the hill and then walked along the road and across the fields to Magpie Mine; the sun briefly punched a hole in the clouds and so I took some photographs.

I always enjoy taking pictures at Magpie Mine.

I left the ruins heading south and east and made my way down into Lathkill Dale via Mill Farm.

I didn't use this footpath, and anyhow it's now over two months since the closure date, but I've never come across this reason for an emergency closure -  'to protect public safety due to management of livestock.' What on Earth has the farmer been keeping in these fields, and what was he doing with them that's so dangerous?

A decent sized chunk of the dictionary is included in the locations on this sign; ash, bake, flag, ford, and well.

There was a section of the footpath closed in Lathkill Dale but there was a well used unofficial diversion in place...which I used.

As I was approaching Bakewell at the end of the walk, an unaccompanied dog ran by me carrying a large frisbee in its mouth.  Quite a few seconds later, just as I was beginning to wonder how the dog could manage to throw, and then catch, the frisbee all on its own its owner appeared, somewhat out of breath.

As I waited for the bus at Bakewell we were entertained by a group of carol singers just across the road - they were dressed as characters from The Nativity...the bus was fifteen minutes late.


UPDATE: I've been informed by a local resident that the alpacas are in fact llamas. I always thought llamas were much larger...so now I don't know how to tell the two species apart.

Miller's Dale, Chee Dale, Chelmorton...and Bakewell

I was hurrying to get ready this morning and forgot to pack my transistor radio so that I could listen to the cricket commentary; when I got home it was no surprise to find out that England had been well beaten by teatime...just as I'd been expecting. 

Something else that didn't go quite to plan either; I had planned to visit a new village for me, King Sterndale, but I missed the turn off for the footpath.

Anyhow, I got off the bus at Miller's Dale and walked up the road to reach a footpath that I hadn't used before - one that leads down into Chee Dale.

I passed over a footbridge and spotted a trout in the river; a few minutes later I caught up with a man and we walked and chatted for the next half an hour or so until we reach the cafe at Blackwell Mill. He name was Mike and he's an administrator for the 'Derbyshire Born and Bred' Facebook group -he's invited me to join the group...he's already made me an honorary Derbyshireman. [oops - according to Google no such word exists.] 

We walked down in the valley for half the distance to Blackwell Mill, and the other half higher up on the Monsal Trail - hoping to get some better photographs...I'm not particularly happy with any of mine, but these are the best. We mainly talked about walking and our previous visits to the area; I'd not been in Chee Dale for about seven years, for Mike it was sixty years though. 

Somewhere either just before, or just after Blackwell Mill Cottages, I should have taken a footpath which would have meant that I could reach King Sterndale without having to walk along quite a long stretch of the busy A6 road. Instead I came out on to the road at the car park at Topley Pike and just crossed over the road and headed down the footpath towards Deep Dale; King Sterndale will have to wait for another time. This footpath was quite difficult in places, as difficult as walking in Chee Dale...which has quite a reputation for being difficult in certain conditions.

I arrived at the main road at the head of Deep Dale and then took the first of the footpaths across the fields to Chelmorton where I stopped for a drink with the locals at the Church Inn...there were several other humorous displays featuring scarecrows in the village.

It was an easy walk up and over the fields to the bus stop at Blackwell Lane End; it took me a lot less time than I thought it would and I arrived twenty  minutes before the TransPeak bus was due. After only five minutes one arrived though, the driver explained that he was forty minutes late. The problems in Manchester had certainly worked to my advantage, meaning that I had a few minutes to spare in Bakewell...so I took some photographs of Bath Gardens, right next to the bus stop which the Sheffield bus departs from.

Monday is market day at Bakewell and the single decker bus was already standing room only when we set off. When we reached Chatsworth House not everyone could get on - fortunately there was another bus due in five minutes going back to Sheffield, but calling at Bakewell first.

Buxton Christmas Fair 2016

Another day out with my friend Justin. We stayed on the bus until we reached the Market Place at Buxton at the top of the hill. Whilst Justin spent a few minutes in the book shop I had a look at the pubs and cafes to see if anywhere was suitable.

None of the pubs opened until twelve o'clock, one cafe didn't look very appetising and the other one I found seemed to be catering for a large private party.

I don't know exactly what the chalked sign is referring to, but we didn't eat in this fish and chips shop; it too, didn't open until later in the day.

There were a couple of charity shops for us to look at before going down the hill to the main shopping area. We went in the first place that was serving food, a pub called Milton's Head; this turned out to be quite an experience.

I asked the barman to please put a straw in my glass of Diet Pepsi because I'm diabetic and can't drink full sugar concoctions...this way when carrying the drinks back to where we were sitting I wouldn't get confused. This simple request seems to have somehow really upset the barman and got him in a bit of a state; he just stared at me for a few seconds and then emptied the contents of the glass down the sink. I tried to order again and this time he thought I wanted two Diet Pepsies, each served with a straw. This time I managed to persuade him not to take the glass anywhere near to the sink. After finally having a degree of success with our drinks it was time to order our meals. I ordered fish, chips and mushy pies and Justin opted for steak and chips, both supposedly from the two meals for £10 offer. 

So, I'm there at the bar and my newest bestest friend behind the bar says I need to pay separately, I assumed we'd need to pay for our meals individually, but no; I had to pay for the drinks at one till and then pay for the meals at another till a few yards away. I was charged £12, instead of £10, for the meals; if I'd been there on my own and was overcharged I would have gone into full pissed off mode by now, but since Justin was there with me, and he's very vulnerable, I just let it go and am settling with obviously giving the Milton's Head a terrible review here. When the meals arrived my fish and chips came with garden peas instead of mushy peas, and Justin kept going on about how small his steak was. So...if you're visiting Buxton I recommend that you stay well clear of the Milton's Head.

This was the worst service I've received in a long time; service in pubs, restaurants and cafes is usually excellent in the Peak District. Maybe the Milton's Arms is a local pub, for local people. That last sentence is a parody of the most famous catch phrase from what was my favourite TV comedy series from the 1990s, The League of Gentlemen. The show was filmed locally, just over the hill in Hadfield; it felt like we had been teleported back in time and through a rupture in the space-time continuum to arrive in another reality where I'm a famous comic actor, staring in an alternative version of the show. Maybe someone might like to suggest what the title of this production might be. In a previous episode, the last time we were in Buxton, I think I remember going inside the same pub...Justin was desperate for a sit-down and something to drink...I'm sure this was the place where a dog taller then me kept drinking from a man's pint. Maybe the dog was drunk...maybe the man was drunk.

We didn't linger in the pub; we walked out into the main pedestrian precinct and proceeded to look in all the charity shops, plus two or three other shops. 

A few minutes later whilst Justin was settling down for a long session looking at DVDs in a charity shop I went outside to see if there might be anything interesting to photograph; I didn't spot anything, a man who was a deadringer for Russian President Vladimir Putin nearly bumped into me though. The Christmas Fair being held in the Pavilion Gardens Marquee was very disappointing. Justin was still hungry and so had a second dinner at the cafe. He needed his strength though, we had to hack our way through the dense jungle later.

After leaving the heated conservatory we made a slight detour over to the Opera House before returning back through the pedestrian precinct to the bus stop near to the railway arches.

  

The bus we caught was the TransPeak to Bakewell, departing from the opposite side of the road than I was expecting. Our journey to Bakewell was uneventful; our journey from Bakewell to Sheffield wasn't. The Sheffield bus was ten minutes late arriving at Bakewell and the driver seemed to be causing even further delays with the way he was handling taking the fares...I wasn't impressed....a few minutes later I would be appalled by the man's behaviour and attitude.

Things started to go wrong when the driver missed the turn to Chatsworth House, meaning that he had to go down to the car park at Calton Lees and turn round...except that he missed that turn off as well and despite myself and several other passengers yelling at him to stop he almost ended up slewing the bus into a gate and then maybe even a ditch. So he had to turn round a full-sized bus full of passengers with the light failing and finding himself on a six-foot wide track with a ditch at one side and concrete posts at the other. Somehow he managed to extricate the vehicle; I thought the only way would be by heavy lift transport helicopters. He severely damaged the vehicle though; he grounded the bus on a section of the track with a very pronounced camber and scraped the bottom of the chassis on several large boulders which had been placed on the grass to prevent vehicles being parked on there at the side of the access road to Chatsworth Garden Centre.

The engine was still running and so we set off unperturbed for Chatsworth House, arriving nearly half an hour late. Passing by Edensor Gates there was a loud scraping sound and someone reported that some panelling had fallen off the bus...no problem, we're invincible now and just continued heading northwards for Sheffield. Coming up the hill from Baslow it sounded like a couple of gears weren't engaging...and we could all smell burning coming from the engine. Surprisingly we arrived safely in Sheffield. When we got off the bus Justin said he noticed that the exhaust pipe was broken and was dragging along the surface of the road..

Bakewell, Little Longstone, Monsal Head, and Ashford-in-the-Water

I took a different route through Bakewell to reach the first footpath of the day; the path starts at a very picturesque bridge and then leads up onto pleasant grassy fields with nice views of Longstone Edge.

I then walked through some woodland to reach the road at Rowdale House. As I was waiting for the traffic to pass so that I could take some photographs I noticed how many large lorries there were on this stretch of road, especially delivery lorries and tankers. For the rest of the day I was convinced that the entire Peak District was being clogged up by heavy goods traffic...maybe it only happens on a Wednesday.

It wasn't long until I was on the Monsal Trail, with close-up views of Great Longstone and the Edge behind.

I didn't stay on the Trail for long before taking the path that leads to Little Longstone. Photographs of the pub and the church always seem to be representative of a village.

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It's not far up the road to Monsal Head. Here's my cropped version of the classic view of the valley and the viaduct.

I then took a path which was new to me, down through woodland to the bottom of the valley, crossing the river over a footbridge right next to the weir. The water spilling over the weir today was impressive, roaring like a lion and glistening in the sun like a ton of tumbling diamonds.

The riverside path leads to Lees Bottom, where I timed it just right to catch the TransPeak bus back into Bakewell if my ankle was feeling a bit sore. It was fine though and so I was able to continue with the walk.

The path from the car parking area at Lees Bottom which goes to Ashford-in-the-Water is a bit difficult at first, quite a bit of slippery limestone in places, and one section where the path is actually a stream. Along this section I placed my right hand on a moss covered rock to help with my balance, and was immediately stung. It was quite painful, and remained so for the rest of the walk; even now, as I'm typing, I've got a sensation of 'pins and needles' in my fingertips. This has never happened to me before anywhere in the Peak District; I grab onto all sorts of things for balance and support...but have never been stung, or bitten, before. Maybe it was something in the water.

I arrived unscathed at Ashford and took a photograph of the old bridge from a different angle.

I walked along the path back to Bakewell, and arrived with enough time for some sausage roll therapy and to be sprayed with water by a passing car which seemed to be operating as a mobile fountain. Water, I'm hoping it was only water, was being forced out at quite high pressure in at least four directions.

Welcome to Bakewell; home of the tarts, and the puddings.

Bradwell and Castleton.

Not a very long walk today, only about three miles, plus exploring the back streets of Castleton and storming Peveril Castle at the top of the hill. I had planned to walk from Bradwell over to Peak Forest and then loop back to Tideswell, but I left my map on the bus after I had left it on the seat and it must have dropped onto the floor. I was fairly confident of actually making my way along my planned route from memory, but less confident about the pacing; I needed to get to Tideswell for about 3:20 to catch the bus back to Sheffield, otherwise I'd have a long wait or a long walk down to the main road at Blackwell crossroads to catch the TransPeak bus to Bakewell.

Back at Sheffield it must have been the start of the new term at Sheffield Hallam University; there were about a dozen coaches parked on both sides of the road near to my bus-stop, where the Students' Union building is. The only way I could make sure that the driver of the 272 bus could actually see me was to step out right in front of him and semaphore where there was a small gap between coaches where I'd be able to get on his bus.

The footpath which I used at the start of the walk at Bradwell is a bit unusual because it goes right across the bottom of a garden and then up some steep steps which are almost hidden from view if you're walking along the pavement.

I know the paths leading westwards and uphill out of Bradwell well and so didn't realise that I'd left my map on the bus until it was probably too late to rush back down to the village and retrieve it from the bus as it returned to Sheffield; anyhow with it being a Sunday I'm not even sure that all the buses serve Bradwell.

I decided to just walk to Castleton on the high level back lanes; there were some good distant views of Win Hill to be enjoyed...and then later on Castleton itself, nestling beneath Mam Tor.

At one stage I was near to the top of a quite long uphill stretch and a cyclist easily overtook me. He stopped at the top, and so did I a couple of minutes later; myself for a rest and he to wait for his friend who was a long way behind. We started chatting and he explained that he was taking his friend to do Winnats Pass later, one of the longest and steepest road ascents in the Peak District...poor bugger! 

When I reached Castleton it seemed to be rather quiet despite a fell race due to finish there mid-afternoon. I decided to pop into the Rose Cottage Café and Tea Rooms for something to eat; I chose a fish pie from the menu and enjoyed it outside in the sunshine in the large, well-maintained rear garden; I could  certainly taste the cod, smoked haddock, salmon, and prawns.

About forty minutes later, not too far from the castle entrance, I nearly tripped up over the only pair of cat's eyes placed in the middle of the road in Castleton.

I reached the castle unscathed. I didn't have to pay the admission fee because I'm a member of English Heritage and so I could justify the short length of time I spent there; just taking photographs really.

I then had about thirty minutes to wonder around the village before catching the bus. There are many attractive buildings in Castleton; I particularly liked this one today.