Up, up and away

Finally!

A year and a half after buying the vouchers and after booking it nine times, I finally got to climb into a giant picnic basket and dangle from a big red balloon floating a kilometre above the earth.

I carefully monitored the weather reports all week. After all this time I feel like a bit of expert when it comes to knowing what weather is considered suitable and safe for a balloon flight to be able to take place. It can't be rainy or foggy or misty. The wind speed can't be over 6mph. The wind speed has to be checked at different altitudes, not just on the ground. The wind has to be in the right direction so the balloon doesn't blow over built-up areas or anywhere it might be dangerous to land. Etc, etc, etc. I wrote about it here.

This time the weather actually seemed quite favourable; in fact, I was mainly worried that it wouldn't be windy enough as the forecast was showing speeds of 1mph. If it's not windy enough, the balloon would go straight up, hover around on the spot for a while and come straight back down again.

At the designated time of 11pm the night before the flight I rang the flight line number. Instead of the usual apology and explanation of why the flight was cancelled, I pricked up my ears as the pilot on the recording said 'Please listen to the following information very carefully'.

He went on to say that the flight would be going ahead, but not from Bakewell as originally planned. Instead we would be taking off from the back-up site of Tissington. He gave the meeting time and directions of where to park and how to get to the launch site from the car park.

Instructions duly noted, it was then it a mad rush to get everything ready and still try to get a bit of sleep before my alarm went off at 2.30am.

After a detour for petrol, I got to my co-balloonist's house before 3.30am and gulped down the coffee she had waiting for me.

It was starting to get light as we headed on empty roads towards the Peak District ticking off a (near) hit list of the kamikaze animals and birds determined to die under the wheels of my van. I like to think it's because of my superior driving skills that I managed to avoid them all.

Arriving in Tissington at the same time as several other people, we parked up and walked the 10 minutes up the lane to the launch site. Through an open gate and into a field containing a very large (and very flat) balloon, a large basket and a herd of very curious cows. 



The cows were so intrigued at the strange goings on in their field they milled around us, stretching out their noses to sniff us and then skittering away when we turned round. They tried to get on the trailer that had brought the basket and balloon to the site. They wanted to get in the basket and they thought standing on a large piece of red nylon made a nice change from grass. 

The basket, which was already attached to the balloon, was lying on its side. A large fan stood to either side of it. Two men volunteered to hold the ropes of the balloon as the cows were shooed away and the fans were switched on. The balloon slowly inflated as it filled with cold air from the fans. As the insides expanded to cavernous proportions, the pilot walked around inside checking everything out. 

Once the balloon was fully inflated, the gas jets were turned on and flames roared into the balloon's innards, heating the air and causing the balloon to slowly rise. As it rose from the ground it pulled the basket upright and we were instructed to quickly climb in. 

Climbing aboard was harder than it looked. Gaps in the side of the basket acted as steps so it all looked quite simple. But the basket was angled slightly outwards meaning gravity was working against us as we tried to hoist ourselves up and get our legs over the side. It was then quite a long drop into the inside, particularly when you were trying to not flail about too much and kick a fellow passenger in the face. 

The basket was divided into five high-sided sections. The pilot was in the middle section with the gas jets directly above him. The sixteen passengers were divided into the four corner sections. The sections were narrow and the four people in each were close enough together to offer cushioning and support in case of any wobbles, but not packed so closely that it was uncomfortable.

Once we were all safely inside, the guy lines tying us to the back of the trailer were released and, waving goodbye to the cows, we drifted up into space. It was a very smooth take-off and we were surprised at how suddenly the ground seemed a long way below. 

Tissington Hall

A rival balloon

As we spent about an hour and a quarter floating above the Peak District, two things I'd been told about still managed to surprise me. The first is that the trees really do look like broccoli. When I'd heard this I assumed it was a reference to how children refer to broccoli as 'baby trees' and that because the trees look so small from this height they could be the broccoli trees referred to by children. Not so. They actually, really and truly do look like they are made from heads of broccoli. 

 

Campsite in a quarry

The second thing was the silence. Yes, I'd been told it would be quiet. Yes, I knew that apart from the odd time when the gas jets were blasting extra heat into the balloon there would be no noise from the balloon and that there would be no engines to give a constant background hum. What I hadn't realised is how much background noise there is usually in our daily lives and how we are so accustomed to it that we don't even notice it most of the time. Even in a quiet place you can usually hear cars in the distance, cows mooing, birds singing, the wind rustling the leaves in the trees, a stream trickling by. Up here, there was nothing. Nothing. It was so quiet and still it was almost eerie. 

The eerie feeling was intensified by the lack of life below. We passed over campsites, villages, quarries, a factory. It was broad daylight but no-one was about. Of course this was because it was still unreasonably early on a Sunday morning, but as we'd been up for hours, it felt like it should be the middle of the day. 

Tiny sheep

The pilot had his GPS connected to a laptop and pointed out places of interest below us. We got a really good view of the ancient stone circle Arbor Low and saw lots of other mounds that looked like tumuli. I'm used to walking in the Peak District and feel I know it quite well. Floating above it gave me such a different perspective though. 

Arbor Low

About an hour after we taken off the pilot started to look for a suitable field to land in. It had to have access for the truck and trailer to enter to collect the balloon and basket. It had to be flat and preferably without crops or animals. And of course away from telegraph wires. 



About 15 minutes later we found a field and slowly descended. As we got close to the ground we were instructed to sit down on the foam seat that ran along the sides of the basket. With backs, bums and heads pressed across the side we gripped the rope handles opposite. Sitting in this position meant our heads and limbs were all fully inside the basket and we were braced in case the basket tipped over when we landed.

Two gentle bumps and we were down and remained upright. The whole flight had been so smooth and it really hadn't felt like we were moving at all. At one point we were travelling at over 8mph, but it felt like we were still and it was earth below us that was reeling past. 



Climbing out of the balloon was a lot easier than climbing in. The truck driver was telephoned and informed as to where we were. Before we could deflate the balloon we had to get permission from the farmer whose field we'd landed in. The pilot told us that this is not usually a problem and the farmers generally get a bottle of whisky as a thank you. And of course, if any damage is caused, it would be paid for. 

I wondered how the farmer would feel being woken up at 7.30am on a Sunday morning by someone requesting permission to deflate a large balloon in his field, but then thought, 'it's a farmer, he'll be up anyway at this time'. Unfortunately, this turned out to be one of the few days in the year when he'd felt able to have a lie-in. He was in a good mood though and not only gave permission, but came out on his quad-bike to have a chat and open more gates so we'd have easier access to the road.

It took quite a long time to deflate the balloon and involved everyone tugging on a long rope to try to pull the sides down and then lots of rolling and stuffing to get it into its bag. The balloon and basket were loaded onto the trailer and we followed it out to the roadside where chamagne was served as we waited for the minibus to arrive to take us back to Tissington.

The half glass of champagne was quite nice, but felt like a bit of a contrived attempt at being classy. And at this time in the morning and after being up so long, I would have preferred a cup of coffee and an egg butty. 

We were presented with certificates and looked at a series of photos on the laptop. A camera had been strung from the balloon taking photos of us all as we floated about. We could purchase the 30+ photos for £15, but as they were all pretty much the same, one would have been enough. £15 seemed quite a lot for what was effectively the same photo, so I didn't bother. If I could've bought one or two for a reduced price I'd definitely have done so as it would have been nice to have a picture of us all inside the balloon.

The minibus arrived and we were soon back in Tissington where I made coffee and egg butties in the back of the van.



Was it worth the wait?

Yes, definitely. The whole experience was even better than I thought it would be and we got a perfect day for it.

Would I do it again?

Probably not. Partly because it's expensive, but mainly because of all the hassle of having to keep so many weekends free; having to stay up to make the phone call; finding out it's cancelled; having to book again, and so on. I don't blame Virgin for this (and I'm very glad they take safety seriously and also try to ensure that the flight is enjoyable by only going on good days) as I realise no matter how powerful Richard Branson is, he has no control over the weather.

Would I recommend it?

Absolutely. But only in a place near to where you live so it's easy to get to at short notice. 

Silver weekend #1

Is it possible to have a great weekend even though a zillion things go wrong? Apparently the answer is yes, as I found out this weekend.

Way back about a year ago, when school first mooted the idea of an enrichment programme every Friday afternoon to give our students, many of whom are from a disadvantaged background, a bit of, well, enrichment in their lives I jumped at the idea of getting involved with a Duke of Edinburgh Award group. We had over 80 students interested, as well as several members of staff. It was a logistical nightmare, but bit by bit, we got everyone registered, sorted out activities, arranged funding, got parental permission slips signed and gathered relevant medical information. I tried to organise a series of archery lessons for one group of students, but we ended up going climbing instead. They did this over 6 months and all got their level 1 and 2 NICAS awards.

School then decided that the whole idea of enrichment was way too expensive (I suppose I can see their point) and pulled it. Of course, D of E is not just a one term only activity and some of these kids had made a serious commitment to see it through. They were getting a lot out of it and were devastated at the thought of not being able to continue. The lightweights dropped out and we were left with a (hard) core of 40+ students who really wanted to carry on.

Enrichment was pulled at the February half term which is halfway through the school year. During the first half of the year we'd concentrated on activities which would count towards the skill, physical and volunteering sections of the award. We'd planned from February onwards to run a series of first aid courses, and then focus on expedition skills e.g. navigation, camping skills, route planning, and so on. We also planned to get some Friday afternoon walks in to give them some actual walking experience. A couple of Saturday or Sunday walks out in the Peaks wouldn't have gone a amiss either. As we no longer had Friday afternoons for enrichment, staff and students were all assigned other lessons. This meant anything to do with the D of E had to take place after school during the week. This is usually how it would be run anyway, but as we hadn't planned it this way, it threw everything into disarray and we didn't get half of what we wanted to do done.

We split our students up into 2 rather uneven groups. The silver students are the older ones who had completed their bronze awards over the last year or two and had wanted to continue. There are only 8 of them. The other 30 odd of them are bronze award candidates who signed up when they had to choose an enrichment activity last year. We also have a few younger students (you have to be 14 or about to turn 14 to do the D of E) who wanted to get involved. We thought it would be great for them to have a taster so they'd know what to expect when they're a bit older and come to do the real thing, and so created a special school award that runs along the same lines but is a little easier.

This weekend was the first of our expedition weekends. We decided to take the silver group out first as we have to fit the practice and assessed weekends around their GCSEs. Also as it was our first expedition, having a smaller group of experienced students made a lot of sense.

So what are all the things that went wrong? Apart from us not being nearly prepared enough in the first place?

1) It snowed when we were supposed to recce the route and we weren't able to rearrange it, so we were heading out on un-recced routes. Not ideal, but we didn't anticipate any major problems.

2) We found out that we needed a BELA person at all times (BELA stands for basic expedition leader's award) and not many staff have this particular qualification. I'm starting the course for it in September and my colleague, who has done most of the work for this expedition, won't be doing her course until next month. So we had to go all out with our powers of persuasion, to powerfully persuade enough relevant people to 'volunteer' so we'd be covered all weekend. Job done. We had the people.

3) Two days before the expedition one of our BELA people dropped out. We flung a panic-stricken net far and wide to try to recruit anybody, ANYBODY, who could replace the missing person. Friends of friends of friends, passing acquaintances, anyone we thought might just happen to have a BELA qualification. No luck. Being bank holiday weekend, most outdoorsy, BELAy type people already had plans to be outdoors.

4) Two days before the expedition, but a bit later, another one of our BELA people was in hospital having surgery. We really didn't want to cancel the expedition as, it being the GCSE season, we wouldn't be able to rearrange it and our students would completely miss out. Cue massive hair-pulling, hand-wringing, head banging against wall session.

5) One day before the expedition our one remaining BELA person changed her time with us to cover both Friday and Saturday, and the hospitalised member said he'd be out and fit enough to cover Sunday. Big PHEWs all round.

6) On the day of the expedition, both my colleague and I were given covers to do during our free lessons. We were hoping to get away straight after period 3 at the start of lunch. As we'd lost our frees all the last minute getting together of gear and paperwork, getting ourselves changed, loading the minibus and Landrover, etc, just didn't happen. So we ended up an hour late leaving.

7) Just before we left, my colleague thought she'd better double-check we really were insured to drive the Landrover which had been lent to us by the local authority Duke of Edinburgh people. Er, no. We're not. As our school is an Academy, we are no longer covered by anything to do with the local authority. We couldn't put all the luggage in the minibus with the students as there are safety requirements we have to abide by like not blocking the aisle or burying the students under mounds of backpacks. Isn't it lucky I bought a van last year? So we transferred all the bags from the Landrover into my van.

8) I then had to go and get fuel which made me later at the rendezvous point than the minibus and so they'd all had to sit around waiting for me.

9) It was getting so late by this time that we decided to start the day's walk 2 hours in and so drove to a layby where we could park my van and myself, my BELA colleague and the students started walking. The other two staff members took the minibus to the campsite.

10) Once we arrived at the campsite I had to get a lift back to my van to collect it. We were going to pick up a takeaway on the way back (for the staff; the students have to be self-sufficient and carry and cook all their own food). It took us quite a long time to get back to the van and we were finally on the way to Bakewell to get our takeaway when we got a tired and despondent phone call from our students. Their tents were up, they were unpacked, they were tired and hungry and ready to cook. But the meths for their camp stoves was on my van (as a safety precaution the fuel is the one thing we carry for them and just give them the amount they need when they are cooking). So we had to turn around and head back to the campsite so they could have a very late, but well-earned dinner.

11) The next day, started off rainy, but by the time we set off walking it had brightened up. I didn't start the walk as we decided to take my van to the next campsite and leave it there and get us checked in at the same time. This would mean the students could go straight to our allocated sites and pitch their tents when they arrived rather than hanging about waiting for us to get them checked in. As we arrived there was a big notice at the front of the campsite saying no arrivals before 1pm. Then another notice saying 'do not enter this campsite before the 1pm check-in'. So we entered and went to check in. We left the minibus part-way up the track and I drove down to the reception area to park up and deal with checking in and paying. The young guy behind reception was quite happy to get us checked in and for me to leave my van, despite the 1pm rule.

12) So far, so good. He opened his bookings book, checked his computer and ... no sign of our booking. Thank goodness we'd come early. He was able to create a new booking for us and showed us where we could pitch our tents later on when we all officially arrived.

13) My colleague drove me out on the minibus to meet up with the walkers so I could walk with them for the rest of the day. For the final part of the walk we decided to let them walk on their own as this is what they will have to do the entire time on their assessed expedition. We drove round to a point where we knew they would have to cross the road and waited to see them. We waited and then waited a bit longer. It really shouldn't take them this long. We finally spotted them walking along the road. They'd missed the turnoff for the footpath and so walked the long way round by the road. Minus a few points for missing the footpath, but full points for figuring out exactly where they were and working out an alternative route to get them where they needed to be.

14) That evening I came to put my stove on for only the second time ever. It's a super-trendy stove bought for me as a present last year by my brother. As it was the end of the camping season when I got it, apart from checking it was working okay, this trip is the first time it's been used. When I boiled water in the morning it was fine. It has an ignition switch that just needs pressing when the gas is on and it ignites automatically. No need for matches or a lighter. Great idea. I came to put it on in the evening and the ignition wouldn't work. It just wouldn't press in at all. Closer inspection showed the plastic switch had melted. So it was back to using a lighter. I'm not at all impressed as it was quite an expensive stove. I can feel a strongly worded email coming on. The area near the switch does get quite hot which is probably the problem. My brother has used one of these stoves for a long time and never had a problem with the ignition so this is probably just a faulty one. Hopefully Primus will do the decent thing and replace it for me.

15) Our students came to put their stoves on to cook their evening meal and asked for the meths. The meths had gone home with the teacher who'd been picked up by her husband an hour of two earlier. We broke the rules (it's only a practice after all) and once the replacement teacher arrived, took them all into Bakewell so they could go to the chip shop.

16) By Sunday, our third day, the students were suffering. The lack of training was having an effect. We cut the route and part way through let them leave their backpacks in the minibus so they could finish it. This is something we won't be able to do on the assessed expedition, so is a bit of a worry.

17) We climbed up to Monsal Head and met the minibus. The last part of the walk was along the Monsal Trail into Bakewell. We decided I'd get taken back to the campsite in the minibus to pick up my van and we'd meet the students at one of the disused train stations along the route to check they were still ok to finish the walk. They were fine and seemed a lot more cheerful now they were near the end. I came to reverse my van out of its parking space so I could drive to Bakewell, but nothing happened. After an awful lot of trying I finally got it to reverse. I then had a bit of a hair-raising drive into Bakewell in which, for some of the time, I was driving in neutral down a hill because I couldn't get it to go into any gear. I followed the minibus into the car park in Bakewell and my gears went completely on me.

18) I had all the students' backpacks and other miscellaneous camping gear in my van and so we really needed to get it back to school. Especially as it's a bank holiday and so it will be Tuesday before I see them again and if my van is in the garage being fixed it could be even later than that before I can get their stuff to them. I called Greenflag and they said someone should be with me within the hour. We needed to get the students back so we unloaded the van and they took everything they thought they'd need into the minibus with them. It was probably too much to be strictly legal but not as piled high as it could have been.

19) The Greenflag man arrived at the car park well within the hour but then took about another half hour to get to me. It's a massive car park and was chocca with stationery vehicles (and I don't mean the parked ones) trying to get out. Bakewell is busy at the best of times, so on a bank holiday and with a funfair just up the road it was a nightmare.

20) The Greenflag man was very nice and soon figured out the problem. He wasn't able to do a proper repair as it needs a part, but he said he would try to do a 'bodge job' (his words) so I could get home safely. If he had to tow me it would have cost around 100 quid. Cable ties came to the rescue and he spent over an hour securely tying numerous of them onto my dodgy gear linkage to hold it in place so I could drive again. As I drove home the gears actually felt better than they had done before, so thank you very, very much Warren for your bodge job. He's also told me the part should only cost about £15 and take about an hour's labour to fix. As I had visions of £100 towing fee plus a new gear box, you can imagine how relieved I was to hear this.

21) Once home, a lot later than expected, I had to empty the van into my house. I can't leave anything in it overnight as one of the problems of living in a dodgy area is car thieves will break into a car if there's a much as an old carrier bag left in it. My living room now contains, amongst other things, enough tents to start my own branch of Go Outdoors, several packets of teabags, some random socks and two guitars.

So was it a successful weekend? I think so, as despite all the obstacles and problems we overcame them and still managed to enjoy ourselves and fit in plenty of laughter. I'm looking forward to the next three expedition weekends and to doing my BELA. Once I've done that, I'll feel a lot more confident to start working towards my actual walking group leader's qualification.

Stephen Booth and the Chinley Book Festival

This afternoon I went along to the first ever Chinley book festival. It hadn't been well advertised - I only found out about it when I saw Stephen Booth mention on his website that he would be speaking at it. A google search didn't turn up much more information. I arrived not really knowing what to expect but hoping that the Stephen Booth talk wouldn't be sold out as I've wanted to attend one of his talks for a while now. 

Chinley is a village in the Peak District not too far from Chapel-en-le-frith. Booth's books are about two police officers who are based in the fictional town of Edendale in the Peak District. They have an alarming number of murders to solve and their cases take them all over the Peak to many real locations as well as fictional ones. 

The book festival was rather small scale, but then I wasn't expecting a Derbyshire equivalent of Hay-on-Wye. One hall had a few stalls including one which had second hand books for sale very cheaply. I bought eight. Another stall was advising people on the advantages of e-readers and had a Kindle and a Kobo to show people. After talking to the lady on the stall I'm finally thinking seriously about getting one.

My entry ticket which cost £1 included a free drink, so I had a bowl of broccoli soup and then indulged in a piece of banana cake with my free coffee. There were tables and chairs set out in the middle of the room so I was able to sit with food and coffee and peruse my new books. 

At 3pm I went to the another hall a couple of minutes away for the talk. I think most of the talks had been quite poorly attended, but Booth's talk had about 40 people in the audience. As the hall was only small this was quite a lot. He talked for the best part of an hour and it was really interesting. He spoke about how he decides on the locations for his books (the 12th is coming out in June) and why he has a mix of real and fictional places. He realised quite early on that the locations were really important to his readers and that many readers try to work out either where the fictional places are or where the places are that he only vaguely refers to and doesn't actually name. He gets lots of emails from readers who go to specific places just because they are in the books. 

I can understand this. Although I wouldn't go out of my way to look for a telephone box just because it had been mentioned in a book, if I was near that telephone box and someone pointed it out to me, I'd be quite interested and would probably take a photo. 

All in all it was quite an interesting talk and I was glad I'd made the effort to go.

http://www.stephen-booth.com/ 

The Hathersage walk that wasn't

For a long time now, my small walking group have had this weekend set aside for our Christmas meal and walk. We met in Hathersage yesterday for Christmas lunch in the Little John pub and most of the group stayed over in the pub's 'cottage'. I booked too late to get a room at the inn and the youth hostel is closed, so my plan was to drive home last night and return to Hathersage this morning. I only live an hour away so it wasn't a big issue.

Saturday morning I woke to snow. There wasn't much at home, but once in the hills there was lots. The roads were fairly clear though it was slow going. I arrived late for lunch, but at least I got there (a big achievement for me considering my recent record) and I wasn't even the last. We had a nice lunch which lasted a few hours and then retired to to the cottage for quizzes, games and drinks. I didn't want to stay too late as I was concerned about the roads icing up over the tops.

I left about 7.30pm and had a fairly easy drive. The roads were a bit snowy, but there wasn't too much traffic and what there was seemed to be driving carefully and slowly. Then just before Hayfield, on a bend on a hill, there was an accident. I could see the blue flashing lights of police cars and ambulances and the narrow road was completely blocked with traffic starting to back up. I was ready for a long wait. Then I noticed cars pulling out from behind me and turning up a side lane. I'd actually assumed it was just a track leading up to a farm, but unless it was party night at the farm (a barn dance maybe?) it had to be more than that. I made a snap decision to follow the cars and see where they went. I presumed they must know another way into Hayfield and if I stuck close they could lead me.

Of course being a little side lane, no more than a single lane track, it wasn't gritted and was probably a tricky road to drive at the best of times. I slid around a bit, but it was fine. I stuck close enough to the cars in front to see where they were going, but left enough stopping room in case I went into a slide. Just as I wondered what would happen if we all met an oncoming car, one appeared. Luckily it was a 4WD with a driver who knew how to use it. The car went up the side of the bank and was almost at 90 degrees as the driver allowed us all to get past.

Eventually I got to Hayfield and continued on my way. This morning when I woke up everything was white. After driving home last night, I knew how bad it would probably be further into the Peaks, but decided to give it a try. There wasn't much traffic and even the grottiest roads looked pretty. Just outside of Glossop everything came to a standstill. The hill was pure ice and cars going down (my direction) were sliding. Cars coming up were ... well, they weren't. The gritters were out, including a couple of men gritting by hand, cars were being pushed, one was being towed by a truck. I finally got clear of the area at 10am which is the time we were meant to be meeting up ready for our 10.30am start. I sent a text to say I probably wouldn't make it and decided to decide at the end of the road what to do.

As it happened, the road up into the hills wasn't too bad at all. It had been well gritted and as a main route had already had enough traffic to break the ice and snow up. The fields were white and as I got close to Sparrowpit so was the air. The clouds had dropped and I was driving in a white-out. Once at Tideswell however, the snow abruptly stopped. It looked like a line had been drawn across the countryside - white on the left and green on the right. I made it to Hathersage for 10.45am but had missed the group. I wandered round for a bit in case I bumped into anyone, but didn't.

I had no idea where they were walking as we still hadn't decided last night where to go. And after driving through all that snow I really wanted to be out walking in it, not walking in the green hills round Hathersage, something I can do any weekend. So I drove back towards my side of the Peaks. The sun had burnt the clouds off and the sky was blue. I stopped a few times to take photos and then parked up in Hayfield to do a walk along the Sett Valley.

As it was now afternoon and it gets dark so early I didn't want to go up into the hills, so instead I walked to New Mills along the Sett Valley trail. Once there I had to turn round and walk back the same way as other routes I could see on the map would have taken too long. But it was nice and I got to see it twice.

I started following the trail along a well defined path and bridleway from the car park. There were lots of tatalising glimpses of white puffball hills through the trees and the river and lake (is it a lake?) were frozen in parts. The trees were white and the ground underfoot made pleasing crunching noises as I walked. The snow was deep and crisp and even. Where I turned back in New Mills I found an old graveyard with wonky gravestones overgrown with brambles. It looked so dramatic all covered in snow. I wandered around for a while taking photos before heading back to my car and home.

I've had a lovely day breathing in lovely fresh tingly air, upping my vitamin D intake and making the most of a white world. And I've added to my track record of going for walks with my small walking group, not meeting them and doing my own walk instead.

Hathersage Christmas Walk no. 1

Sunday 11th December, 2011


This Sunday my big walking group had its Christmas walk and meal. Next Sunday it's the turn of my small walking group. Both walks and meals are in Hathersage as this is such a good hub and is on the train line from Manchester to Sheffield, so people living on either side of Pennines have the choice of catching the train instead of driving and so can have a few beers with their Christmas meal.

I chose to drive as it's much quicker, cheaper and I didn't feel like drinking a lot anyway.

I picked a friend up at 9am and we were in the pub car park in Hathersage by 10am. The pub we'd chosen was the Millstones and is just outside of Hathersage on the road to Sheffield. The car park had a few goats and a collection of micro pigs and piglets roaming around. The piglets were for sale at £60 each. Tempting, but as I don't have a parish licence (it's not that straightforward to buy a pig) I wasn't able to give in to temptation.

It started to rain just as we began walking, so it was wet-weather gear all the way. We followed a path at the side of the car park downhill into the trees and headed towards the railway and the River Derwent. We walked along a back lane of Grindleford, past Padley chapel, through the Longshaw Estate and ended up at Surprise View from where we walked along the road back to the pub.

We stopped for a coffee break at a shelter behind Padley Chapel and also stopped to take photos of a waterfall and of the money tree on Longshaw Estate. The money tree is a horizontal tree trunk that has been embedded with coins over the years. The coins are firmly hammered in, so there's no removing them. This is supposed to be a tradition associated with good luck, making a wish (similar to making a wish when throwing a coin into a wishing well) or getting rid of illness (if someone removes a coin they could become ill). See here for an Daily Mail article on money trees.

Once back at the pub we all piled in and took over the toilets so we could get changed into clean and dry clothes. Then, drinks and meal tickets bought and paid for, it was time to attack the carvery. Carveries are great for vegetarians. I piled my plate high with roast potatoes, veggies, bread sauce, stuffing balls, yorkshire puddings, cauliflower cheese, and horseradish sauce. It was delicious and I left the pub a few hours later feeling several kilos heavier than when I'd entered.

I know where I went

Well, I've studied the map and worked out where I walked on Sunday. So here it is ...

Lunch stop above Bretton Clough

Starting at the eastern end of the village known as Town End (the western end is called Town Head), we wound through a residential street to pick up a footpath that climbed steeply north through a wood. Running along the bottom of the wood is Hollow Brook. At the top of the wood we joined Edge Road and continued northwards until the juction with Sir William Hill Road. Climbing a stile we took the northeast path which followed a wall across the moor. The path curved to the west and then north again along the top of Bretton Clough. This is where we stopped for lunch. After lunch we continued along the path as it dropped down to Bretton Brook and then followed a path on the east side of the brook until we met the road leading into Bretton and the highest pub in Derbyshire. The road in front of the pub heads eastwards and we followed this for a quite a way. It became more of a track than a road and it's only now looking at the map, that I realise this is the other end of Sir William Hill road. Sir William Hill is a hill alongside this road and has a big pylon perched on top of it. It was in a field just below this pylon that we found the riggweltered sheep. About halfway along this track we turned right and south onto a footpath that headed downhill, crossed a road and then continued more steeply downhill finally coming out near the graveyard of Eyam church.


Map = Explorer OL24
Time = about 4.5hrs

Eyam Walk

Sunday 13th November, 2011


I had a lovely walk today with my big online walking group (this is different to the small online walking group I was supposed to walk with last week). The walk started in Eyam, which is known as the plague village. This is because when plague arrived in this village, carried in by a flea resident in the cloth brought from London by itinerant tailor George Vickers, the villagers quarantined themselves selflessly to prevent the plague from spreading to the surrounding area.

The village itself is quite long, stretching along one main street with a few offshoots. Many of the old cottages have plaques detailing the people of the household who died of plague. One lists nine victims from the same small house. There is a church with a graveyard, a small museum, a hall (big house), several tea shops and one pub. It's very touristy and in summer the street can get quite crowded. Today however, on a misty, drizzly Sunday morning, there were only walkers about.

We met near the pub, all 47 of us, plus about 8 dogs of various sizes and colours. At 11am just before starting the walk we observed the 2 minute silence for Rembrance Sunday. A small group of other walkers walked past as we were all stood in silence and one of them made a comment about us being a very quiet group. Another one quickly realised and said 'It's 11 o'clock'. They then stood quietly too. We must have looked very strange though, before they realised - 47 people all stood in sombre silence in the middle of a village street. I also thought how bemused some outside observer would have been to hear the response 'it's 11 o'clock' to the query of our silence and how they would have puzzled over how that could possibly have made sense.

Once we started our walk, we moved quickly uphill slipping and sliding on mud and wet leaves until we were high above the village. There was a very low thick mist, so all views were obscured. As I hadn't planned the walk and I kept my map in my bag I didn't have much idea of where we were going for most of the walk. I know we went up Sir William Hill and stopped for lunch above Bretton Clough - the mist cleared just enough to be able to see down into it and realise how high we were. We walked across moorland and through woodland and stopped for a while at the Barrel Inn - the highest pub in Derbyshire - pity we couldn't admire the views.

Eyam Moor

View of Bretton Clough

Highest pub in Derbyshire

View from the pub

From there we headed back towards Eyam. On the way we passed a field of sheep, Nothing unusual in that you might think. In this field there was something very unusual though: one of the sheep was upside down, lay on its back with all four legs up in the air. This is known as riggwelter (like the beer from the Black Sheep brewery that has a picture of an upside down sheep on the label). The sheep may find themselves upside down for various reasons, for example, they may not have enough lanolin in their coats and so their fleece gets too wet and heavy and overbalances them, Once upside down the sheep quickly gets a build up of gas in its stomach and this swells the abdomen and will eventually crush the sheep's lungs suffocating it.

I once saw a sheep like this in Brecon when I was walking on Pen y Fan and Corn Dhu. I was with a friend and we had gone off the main track, which was crowded with walkers, and onto moorland where we were the only people around. When we saw the upside down sheep we laughed. It looked so content, didn't seem upset or in pain and just seemed to be enjoying the sun. It was only later that we found out what this actually was and that the poor sheep would most likely have died. There wasn't much chance of any other walkers coming across it. I've always felt guilty about it (though it hasn't stopped me using 'inverted sheep' as my user name online) and vowed if I ever saw another sheep like this I would do something about it, though I knew my chances of seeing the same thing elsewhere were pretty much zero. When people ask about the origins of my user name I always take the opportunity to educate them in the perils of riggwelter in the hope that if they ever come across anything like this they will know to do something about it. It was actually the friend I was with that day in Brecon who suggested I use 'inverted sheep' as my online name.

But anyway, back to today's story. The sheep was in a field surrounded by a stone wall with a couple of strands of barbed wire stretched above it. No way was I leaving the sheep like that this time. Before I could even start to get over the wall, one of the guys in the group was over and was rolling the sheep back onto its front. As soon as he let go the sheep flopped onto its back again. It's stomach was really distended. He tried a second time and this time straddled it and held it upright for a few minutes to give it chance to get its legs working again - its hind legs seemed very shaky. Finally the sheep was able to wobble off. Within minutes its legs seemed less wobbly and so we can only hope that it was able to remain upright. If it did, then what should happen, is that it would do plenty of burping and farting until it had expelled all the gas. It's a pity there were no farmhouses about though so we could let the farmer know to keep an eye on it. But I now feel slightly less guilty about the sheep in Brecon. Even though it wasn't me who saved this one. To completely assuage my guilt I think I'll need to find one when I'm by myself and upright it, but at least this was a step in the right direction.

We finished our walk with a beer in the pub in Eyam. All in all a lovely day with a momentous moment. And now I'll have to study my map to try to figure out exactly where I've been.

Foolow Walk

Sunday 6th November, 2011


I was supposed to meet my walking group for this walk in the Peak District. We'd agreed to meet in Foolow which is a small village not far from the better known 'plague village' of Eyam. Alas, I got caught up in a roadworks traffic jam and missed the group by what must have been only a few minutes. It was a gorgeous day; a frosty start had led to warm sunshine and clear blue skies. Far too nice to be a normal November day and a great day for a walk.



I parked up and got my boots on. I couldn't remember the exact route the group were taking and so decided to do a figure of eight walk following what looked to be interesting paths on my map. I added in a few ups and downs, nothing too steep, but I did feel as though I didn't want any more flat after three days of flat walking in Norfolk.

I started by walking west out of Foolow past the tiny church and the duck pond. After walking alongside the road for a few minutes I turned north on the first signposted public footpath to the right. This took me across fields and through a farmyard at Grindlow where there was a tiny pony (Shetland? Dartmoor? I feel I should know this). The path then headed northwest uphill to a road. Directly across the road the path continued upwards through a small wood to another road at the far side. I walked westwards on this road which quickly turned a bend to the north. To my left there was an airfield with gliders taking off and landing. Looked like fun. When they took off they each had a long rope dangling with some kind of bulky thing attached. Once they reached a certain height the rope and bulky thing were dropped. I have no idea what this was or what it was for. I was just glad not to be standing directly underneath!

Once round the bend in the road I joined a footpath again. This took me northeast and dropped down part way into a valley before climbing back up again and arriving at the road I'd previously left by the airfield. The road had looped round and forked just where I rejoined it. I took the minor downhill fork to the right and walked towards Abbey Grange and Grange Farm. Just before the farm I took a path to the south and headed back downhill. After meeting a very friendly ram in a field I found a well placed bench by a wall and sat to have my lunch. It was in the sun and I could see straight along a valley to the airfield and so was able to watch the gliders whilst I ate.

Leaving the bench I continued down to the bottom of the valley and across a small stream. A kind of half bridge had been placed across it. This was a big plank of wood which for me was quite a big step up to get on to it and another piece of wood as a rail along one side. The other side was open and the plank was slippery. Fun times. Safely across I walked uphill again after first taking a bit of a detour when I saw an 'access land' sign. There was a path but it didn't go in the direction I wanted. I tried to make my own route to climb out of the valley but it was too boggy, so I turned back and took the proper path. This is steeply uphill. Rough steps have been put in to help with the ascent, but the workman who built them was presumably a giant. Some of the steps were thigh high. There were good views as I climbed and I could see back to Grange Farm on the other side of the valley and across the bit of access land I'd walked on. From my viewpoint I could see lots of pyramid shaped hills and wondered how they had been formed - man made for some reason maybe? Or just a natural phenomenon? I tried to get a good picture but they don't really show up on my photos.

At the top of the valley I crossed a road and immediately headed down through thick undergrowth along a path on the opposite side of the road. I could have continued to follow this southbound path to meet up with the road back into Foolow but wanted to extend my walk slightly. So I turned left and east onto a bridlepath and followed this to join up with the same road, just further out from the Foolow. Hitting the road I followed it southwest and then south back to Foolow arriving alongside the church.

I then had a bit of a wander round the village. I went into the church and round the duck pond. I puzzled over a stone structure alongside the pond that had steep steps leading down into a water filled space. No idea what it was (or is) for.

The second loop of my figure of eight walk was shorter and started from the far side of the pond between houses. The path is hard to spot until you're virtually on top of it as it's a narrow walled-in path running between the houses and gardens. The entrance has stone slabs across the front and the footpath sign is hidden in the foliage. I'd never had known it was there if it wasn't for me actually looking for it. Good job it's marked on the map.

This path leads west and soon leaves the houses behind to head across fields towards the south end of Silly Dale (great name for a dale). I then turned right and headed north along a bridleway that followed the top of the dale back to the road I'd originally headed out on this morning. I walked back along the road to Foolow. These roads are quiet country lanes and so quite pleasant to walk along.

I never got to meet up with my walking group but had a wonderful walk all the same.


Time - about 4.5 hours including lunch stop
Distance - dunno - but maybe as little as 5 miles. I walked quite slowly and kept stopping to look at things or take photos.
Map - Explorer OL24
Start/Finish - Foolow SK191769

Motorbikes

I've always liked the idea of riding a motorbike - having all that power in my hand and being open to the elements instead of hidden away in the tin box that is a car. I've been on the back of few bikes and it's been ok but nothing special. I want to be in control. In the last couple of years I've had a go at driving (riding?) a skidoo and a quadbike and enjoyed both.

I'm not really sure how much I'll like the practicality of motor biking though. When it's bad weather I want to be tucked away in the warm dry environment of my car and when it's good weather I really won't want to be wearing all that hot sweaty protective gear. I'd still like to give it a go though.

Without having a bike I don't know how good I'd be able to get. I could have a few lessons at a place where they provide the bike, but it's only by riding regularly on my own bike that I'd get to be good and really know if I like it or not. If I had my own bike there's the problem of storage. Maybe I could store it in my future hostel?

On my web design course I've become friendly with a woman who has a bike and is a member of a group of women bikers. They often go out riding in the Peak District together. So she could be a good contact for my future biking life!

Cycling Japan

I've wanted to go to Japan for years. I have Japanese friends who returned to live there a few years ago and visiting them gives me even more of a reason to go to Japan. Why haven't I gone already?

• When I've had time to go on holiday I've been busy visiting other places instead
• I'd like to go for long(ish) time and so haven't had long enough holidays off work
• It's very expensive
• It's difficult to get around and really do anything without knowing the language and a lot about the culture.

So, if I'm going to get around to ticking this one off my list I have to get over these four main issues.

The first one isn't so major. I'll make time for it at some point. I have plenty of time to get to all the main places I want to visit before I'm 60 and still have time to visit others as well.

Now I'm a teacher I have 6 weeks holiday in the summer. Spring and autumn are meant to be the nicest times to go as I'd get to see either the blossoms or the autumn leaves. But I could cope with missing out on those as long as I got to see the country. I'm not sure if even 6 weeks would be long enough, but I may get even more time in the future if my hostel and freelancing life plans work out. So issue no.2 is fast disappearing. 

The expense is a problem I still have to really deal with. Some people say it's not as expensive as I think especially if I'm not staying in luxury hotels. Which I definitely wouldn't be. I recently read an article in a travel magazine about cycling round part of Japan. Now that would be a really cheap way to get about. I could camp (hopefully - I don't know much about the camping situtation in Japan), carry lots of packets of instant noodles, and get to out of the way places without it costing me anything.

The problem with the cycling solution is I've never ridden really long distances before and never carried all my gear on a bike. I would like to do this though, which is why doing a long distance cycle tour is also on my list of things to do. By doing my cycle tour in Japan I could tick off 2 challenges in one go. So now, I need to think about practising and training. I bought a cycle rack for my car at Christmas so I can take my bike out to the Peak District and cycle some of the converted railway track trails. I do want to cover these as they are very scenic, but they make for boring walking. They will make a good start for my cycle training though. As I'm too busy to even get out walking or go to the gym at the moment I don't know when this will happen, but hopefully before the summer.

The fourth issue with my going to Japan is the culture and language. I have a friend who is a Japanophile (is there a proper word for that?) and has studied the language for years. Even she had lots of difficulties when she visited. The language is written in a mix of Japanese, Western and Chinese characters. Although she knew the Japanese and Western characters, all the Chinese characters made things very hard to read. Also there are so many rules for every little thing you do. Because foreigners don't know the etiquette it makes it very difficult to achieve even half of what a Japanese person can in the time, and there are many things you miss out on completely.

Starting my visit by staying with my Japanese friends may be a good move as I can learn a lot from them. Akiko is pretty adventurous and not your typical Japanese woman so she may even be persuaded to do a bit of travelling with me. I'll need to learn a bit of the language, though I have no plans for that just now. I'm studying a couple of other things at the moment and need to get them out of the way before I take anything else on. I can make a start on the culture though. I'm not starting from zero as I already know quite a bit (not nearly enough, but more than your average British person). I've just bought The Encyclopedia of Japanese Pop Culture which is a bit out of date but still a good place to start according to the reviews on Amazon. I must also read my Josie Dew books about her cycle tours of Japan. I like her books but I've never got round to reading these two even though I've owned them for years.

And still on the cycling theme - I've just come back from the Netherlands which is the world's most cycle friendly country. As I go there most years, I could do a bit cycle tour training there. There are plenty of places it would be great to cycle round for a few days and I could carry all my gear to practice. I've done some cycling there in the past (including this visit) so I know how easy it is. A great place to start.

So these are my Japan visiting and cycle touring plans so far. When I start writing them down like this I feel like I'm actually getting somewhere. When they are just ideas swimming around in my head it doesn't feel like I'm actually doing anything towards my goals. But actually, they are all ticking over all the time in the back of my mind.