Well Dressing Weekend - Part Two

Our well dressing weekend continued with a trip to the charming higgledy piggledy town of Wirksworth, where the annual Bank holiday carnival featured nine well dressings by various community groups.

St Mary's Church was prettily decorated with flowers and a band of volunteers served tea and cakes to visitors eager to get out of the wind for a bit.

On the marketplace some brave souls manned stalls, and we bought some beautifully decorated cupcakes from a couple who were looking a bit lonely.

The microbrewery seemed the busiest place in town.  The town always has a good community spirit and it is a shame the sun did not shine on their efforts, but everyone seemed to be having a good time regardless.

Well Dressing Weekend - Part One

It's that time of year when Derbyshire villages start well dressing.  Despite a cool and windy Bank Holiday weekend, with the threat of a shower ever present, L, S and I set off to explore the rural delights of our village celebrations.

Although there are a couple of real wells in Brackenfield, they are a bit too far off the beaten track for easy access, so instead we have kind of 'notional' wells.  Basically, you put a jar of water out to symbolise the well (and for people to drop coins into) and carry on regardless. 






The theme this year was "The Seasons" and the school "well" boasted a charming autumn scene of a country cottage, the panel topped with a realistic rendition of a sheaf of corn complete with poppies.  It was widely pronounced the best Brackenfield dressing to date. 


Outside, on the expansive village green, the dull weather did nothing to deter patrons of the bouncy castle, coconut shy and skittles alley. Mr Whippy did not seem to be doing much business, but there was a brisk trade in homemade cake, sausage rolls and egg sandwiches in the old schoolroom. 

Down at Holy Trinty Church, the local flower arrangers had a different theme "countries of the world", and I made sure to take a photo of the floral tribute to Kiwi Country for my uncle Brian in New Zealand.  There was also a nice green arrangement with a Guiness bottle for Ireland, and "Scotland" was celebrated with the help of a tartan picnic rug and a pair of bagpipes.

 "The Ideal Holiday" - a colourful display featuring a hula skirt and a pineapple.  S wanted to take a photo but found her view blocked by a straggling family.  She successfully persuaded them to move by slumping into a pew and adopting an attitude of deeply reverential prayer.  They disappeared immediately.  I must remember that one for future occasions.  

The Methodist church was also serving tea.  Now obviously we couldn't show favouritism, so we had to stop for a cuppa there too.

S admires the detail on the Methodist Church well (awww! look at the teeny wishing well!)

We rounded off our trip with a stroll around the village and admired the brilliant red poppies amongst the green corn in one of the fields.

Lavender Cake at The Village Hall

 May Day Bank Holiday and still the incredible sunshine continues.  We decided to combine a walk with some rustic festivities and dropped in to Elton, a pretty village in the limestone area beyond Stanton Moor.  The village hall was serving refreshments and it was hard to decide which of the yummy homebaked cakes to plump for (a few of those and plump could be the operative word!) In the end it was a toss up between carrot and banana muffins and lavender fairy cakes, but the lavender won the day.  Out the front an elderly lady in a pink Easter bonnet was doing a brisk trade on the plant stall.



Stop waving that cake!

 Down the village street, with its attractive old stone cottages another villager ("Sue") had left a plant sales display out on the verge, with handwritten instructions to help yourself and post the money through the letterbox of the house opposite.  We made a note to return for a yellow margerite later.

Our walk started down a deep sided lane which descended the valley to a gate by the road where the path led up to Robin Hood's  or "Mock Beggars' Hall", so called because the striking grit stone outcrop has two pinnacles which at a distance slightly resemble the chimneys of some fantastical manor house.  Some say that they were used as alignment points by the ancient people who erected Nine Stones Close, a short distance away down the hillside.  The whole Stanton Moor area is certainly a fascinating one for anyone interested in stone circles and ancient remains.

After a quick photostop at Nine Stones Close, where sadly only four tall standing stones still remain from a vanished ring, we headed down the road and turned left on a sandy path through some woodlands of mixed conifers and broadleaf trees, where bluebells were still flowering.  This led into an open field with a steep hill on the left which on the map was labelled "Castle Ring". 

Castle Ring is situated on Harthill Moor in the eastern gritstone moorlands of Derbyshire. The monument is a sub-circular enclosure comprising a bank, external ditch and counterscarp bank surrounding an area of about a hectare. The internal bank or rampart appears to be of simple dump construction and varies between one metre and two metres high, while the counterscarp bank is between metre and one metre high. The ditch is c. metre wide and is less distinct on the south side where there is no rampart visible. This is an indication that the original entrance lay in this region. The monument has not been excavated but it forms part of a rich Bronze Age landscape on Harthill Moor which also includes burial mounds, a second enclosure and Nine Stones Close stone circle (Derbyshire HER ref. scheduling report 1994)

 

Circling round behind Robin Hood's Stride we skirted some woodland and whilst crossing a stile saw a photocopied notice for "Serenity Cafe" at nearby Cliffe Farm.  Evidently some enterprising farmer's wife is "diversifying", as the farm also ran a self catering cottage, and several other walkers were taking advantage of the sunshine on the couple of tables outside.  We availed ourselves of a coffee (one has to patronise local businesses) and then carried on our way.  The walk up the hillside back to Elton village was a pretty one, with lush spring grass and the hawthorn coming into blossom.  Its an odd geological mix for the white stone walls tell you that you are in limestone country, whilst  and there the softly rounded landscape is peppered with small gritstone crags. 

 

Back in Elton we simply had to pop into the village hall again for more tea (well, the loos were very handy) and nip down the road to pick up the yellow margerite (£1.40 - a bargain! Thanks Sue).  Later, when I got home, a cheerful lady rang me to say that I had won a toolbox in the village hall raffle.  Unfortunately I am back at work tomorrow and can't collect my booty, but hopefully it will help to raise funds at the next raffle.



Oh the joy of sun on one's face!



The World & His Dog at Padley Gorge



Me & My Compass

 

Two more days of freedom before the Easter / Royal Wedding / May Bank Holiday Fest comes to an end and I have to go back to work.  Being the Sunday before a Bank Hol it was probably a bad time to choose to visit the National Trust's popular Longshaw Estate for a walk, because with the weather continuing fine, sunny and warm, the world and his dog were tramping the moors.  We couldn't squeeze into the main car park so ended up at the overflow a mile or so away, but by some serendipity this turned out to be very close to the Grouse Inn, which was on our walk route. 

Anyway, we set off up the hill into a strong wind. Luckily we had our comedy sunhats with us which prevented drafty ears, but there was some anxiety about them blowing off and wrapping themselves round the face of an unsuspecting hiker.  We weren't sure if we were following quite the right track.  Later it transpired that we weren't, but we still ended up at the right place - descending from woods to Grindleford Station.  See - even with a compass I have no sense of direction.  Good job L is better at this kind of stuff. 



The view was good, but listen to the video and you'll see what I mean about the wind.

The cafe at Grindleford Station was heaving, and the picnic tables swarmed with people nibbling ice creams and plates of chips, as a single teenager strived manfully with a long queues and a lack of change.  L and I were very amused by the multiplicity of admonatory signs covering every available space.  Those visiting the loo (For Customer Use Only) were exhorted to remember that "taps don't turn themselves off". Outside tables were "Not for you to have a rest at but for paying diners only".  Visitors were asked "Not to be rowdy" and a counter inside was labelled "This is a serving hatch, NOT a viewing area".  Lest we start to think that customers were a nusisance, there were also notes to the staff.  I particularly liked "WIPE YOUR SPOUT" over the expresso milk frother. Put me off having a coffee anyway.



Totley Tunnel



We passed the charming Padley Mill and started ascending the gorge.  The path is a stoney one, involving much stepping over blocks of grit stone and stubbing your feet on tree roots, through a grove of gnarled trees twisted into strange forms by age and weather. 

At one point I thought I had found "Little John's Well" as marked on a map, but it turned out to be an old explosives store from when this area was quarried for the stone used to build Howden Dam.  As we ascended the gorge it got busier and busier, with dogs, toddlers, teens and scouts all milling around.  The rushing stream in the rocky valley bottom below was a magnet, particularly for the dogs and children, who were enjoying that timeless game of jumping in and out, slipping off boulders and getting very wet.





A tree hug

At the very top of the gorge the scene began to ressemble Skegness, with much pink flesh on display - none of it very attractive.  We steered in the direction of Longshaw Lodge, a grey grit stone Victorian mansion, which I presume was built by Lord Manners purely as a "Shooting Box", for the outlook over the moors cannot have been attractive in anything other that high summer, and even then it is a windy exposed spot.  The breeze was still trying to pull our hats off and the dust from the well trampled paths threatened contact lens problems at any moment. However, we made it to the National Trust Tearoom with no mishap, where L tried a Fentiman's Rose Lemonade (smashing!) and I had a Mandarin and Seville Orange Jigger (very refreshing).



Longshaw Lodge



From thence we walked to White Edge Moor, heading down a path by a dreer looking stone lodge.  I can't imagine who lived there in such a windswept and treeless place - perhaps a grumpy gamekeeper. It was pleasant to get away from the pushchairs and grannies for a while however, and there was a fine view across to the more hospitable wooded valley opposite.  Back at the car it was a relief to get out of the breeze and a cup of tea from the thermos went down nicely.