Day 124 Tuesday. Started writing at the Tradesman’s Entrance eatery on Buxton Market Place at 13.00hrs.
It didn’t take long for the enthusiasm for walking to wilt! I had enjoyed a decent sleep the night before, and I awoke feeling fairly energetic. But outside, the mixed weather was little different to Monday, it was still cool and menacing grey clouds threatened a drenching. Nevertheless, I did venture out, but not very far. I found things to do at home, as well as attend a blood test appointment at the spotlessly clean Cavendish Hospital. The day passed quickly, as always. Mega hot weather was forecast for a brief period over the weekend, and although the following night felt cold, Wednesday was proving to be a suitable day to venture out.
Day 125 (Wednesday)
Roger suggested visiting Axe Edge from where, on a clear day, Snowdonia can be picked out, as well as towns and cities in between. (I’m not sure one could identify Chester towards the horizon. Grit stone was in evidence; where we were walking was at one time (several million years ago) a massive grit stone area. I had last been up Axe Edge at the time of the Queen’s Silver Jubilee in 1977, when a celebratory bonfire was lit at each “trig-point” throughout the nation. I was 28 back in that day and walking across the terrain was not a problem. This week was different. The terrain felt unpredictably uneven, and I found walking difficult and arduous. That didn’t stop me enjoying the most wonderful views and also a sense of achievement. Also causing grief was my right knee, which could be painful. However, such exertions did not seem to exacerbate whatever the problem still is.
We continued downwards towards the Cat and Fiddle Road, again over what for me was difficult terrain, and walked for a short distance along the road before coming across another parallel footpath away from the incessant traffic. The final footpath to the road where we had left the car was much easier to walk along. It had been “made-up” possibly a couple or three centuries ago, and may well have been a route for transporting coal; coal tips provided evidence of a once thriving mining industry. Ref: Coal Mines of Buxton by John Leach.
Day 126 Today! Thursday 30th July.
This time three years ago, I was about to leave the employ of Arriva Trains North, the final company I would work for as train driver. I was 68, and had intended to stay until (subject to health and compitence) age 75. It was probably a good thing that continued sciatica deemed me permanently medically restricted and that, if I wanted to stay in employment, I couldn’t continue as train driver. Frequently documented cardiac conditions would have precluded any return to work any time soon. Retirement was the only sensible option. All this doesn’t seem three years ago!
The daily walking regime has to continue. This morning, I chose to walk into Buxton to acquire a hiking pole and a knee support bandage. I think this was the first time I had walked into town since the onset of covid-19, or even 2019. The girl in the “Track and Trail” shop was extremely helpful and passionate about what she thought would be suitable for me. I was very pleased. In Spring Gardens, now a pedestrianised area, I came across former work colleague James Stewart, as well as another church associate. Apparently, some of St. John’s congregation have defected (temporarily, I would imagine) to Saint Peter’s in Fairfield. I am reluctant to join a thronging congregation no matter what the covid-19 precautions are established there. The risk just isn’t worth it. Venturing into Buxton still leaves me uncomfortable.
On my way home, I called in at the Tradesman’s Entrance, a favourite cafe back in the recent day. Their chicken and avocado salad was superb and didn’t violate the diet regime I am trying to re-establish. Now for the long traipse home.
Thanks for reading, David 14.18, The Tradesman’s Entrance.
David's Cruise 