David's Cruise

Friday 15th October

I have been looking forward to this for a long time, The Buxton Festival Gala Dinner. This should have been the first private event at the newly reopened Crescent Hotel. Needless to say, the pandemic caused its postponement to tomorrow night, in conjunction with what I hope will be the annual Big BIF Weekend, an autumnal scaled down version of July’s main Buxton International Festival. No one who knows me will be surprised that I chose this opportunity for yet another stay at The Crescent. I was allocated one of their “Classic” rooms which I am told are their basic accommodations. Room 105 was extremely nice, with a wonderful walk in shower. It did not matter that there was no bath. What did matter (and this was no fault of the Hotel), was the noise of Friday night revellers. With much searching by Reception, I was found an alternative beautifully quiet room on the fourth floor. These rooms are perfect. There’s a generous space with desk and wardrobe, the main sleeping area, and an expansive en suite. I am just as big a fan of The Crescent as I was when it opened in October last year. I am still in Buxton, but feel “a million miles away.”

It’s getting late now; I shall write again soon.

Thanks for reading, David, 23.46hrs 15/10/21.

In the last blog, I promised autumn colours. Probably towards the end of next week, they will be at their majestic finest. However, yesterday, I ventured towards the Goyt Valley where one can feel “million miles away.” The road out of Buxton towards Whaley Bridge climbs into some very scenic countryside with hills, woods and valleys undisturbed to the horizon. Another spell of Indian summer made for a gorgeous still afternoon.

This afternoon, still mild outside, I was on duty stewarding at St. Anne’s Church, unexpectedly with two others instead of the mandatory one other. My “relief” showed up twenty minutes early, making a total of four. At the moment, services in what is reputed to be Buxton’s oldest building remain suspended due to the continuing pandemic. Only St. John’s maintains (almost) weekly worship.

Unusually for me, these days, on Thursday last, I extricated myself from a warm comfortable lounge, in front of a new high-tec telly, and set off walking from home, along a familiar “circuit.” The change around where I live is not exactly subtle! I understand that around 2,000 new homes are under construction or now complete and occupied. They are nice houses and not unattractive. However, the thought of moving somewhat fills me with horror, so I shall more than likely “stay put.” Nevertheless, I watch with interest as the village expands.

Development on what was once the grounds of Derby University (Buxton), formerly High Peak College of Further Education, thriving when I first lived nearby in the 1970s. The landscape around here is changing forever.

I continued to the old railway track (now developed as part of cycle network) for the familiar stroll along, and down to the Parks Inn, where I availed myself of one of the seats outside where I am known to partake of the excellent food on offer.

In August, I had lived here in the same house since 1975. I still remember the thrill of having my own place, complete with garden and views, which I continue to enjoy…46 years later. Already, I have tentative plans for a 50th anniversary celebration in 2025….with luck!

Many thanks for reading. David, Sat. 9/10/21 21.20hrs. Now, to watch a good movie!

Assuming Sunday to be the first day of the week, for the first time since lockdown restrictions were eased, and St. John’s had resumed weekly worship, there was no service there yesterday morning.  Six churches make up the Team Ministry in and around Buxton, and in September, it was the turn of Christ Church Burbage (C.C.B.) to host the now monthly worship where the congregations of all six churches gather under one roof for a collective service.   There was a healthy turnout, possibly because C.C.B. was celebrating Harvest Festival. 

Sunday turned out to be the last day of the present Indian summer, but I was, and remain thankful for the numerous days of extremely pleasant weather we enjoyed until then.  However, I had not slept well the previous night and the day was rather a “blur.”  The nearby Parks Inn put on the perfect Sunday lunch of roast pork, vegetables and an apple/gravy sauce. This set me up for the rest of the day.

THE COAT OF HOPES

And now for something rather different.

Out of the blue, my niece contacted me in August to tell me about an amazing project she had put together. We all know about danger the world is facing, partly at least, as a result of over two hundred years of industrial activity. In November, there will be the U.N. International Climate Conference of world leaders and authorities in Glasgow (COP 26) in the hopes of ratifying far reaching agreements to reverse the situation we seem to be facing right now. A substantial group of people are walking to Glasgow from Newhaven in the South of England, with a coat, namely The Coat of Hopes. Along the way, people are creating small decorative and themed patches out of pieces of blanket, which are then sewn into this unique garment. When the Coat arrives in Glasgow, the Decision Makers will be invited to try on the Coat and feel the “weight and warmth of our Hopes.” Even now, the Coat of Hopes is looking very impressive. Much better details and illustrations are available on Google, or at http://www.coatofhopes.uk YouTube also explains this endeavour probably far better than I did in this blog.

As ever, many thanks for reading. David, 21.43hrs 27/5/21

I have never regarded myself as the brightest spark in the fireworks display. On Thursday night, after dropping off my sister and brother-in-law at their guest house, I relaxed, earlier than usual, in front of the T.V; News at Ten had just started. Lead item was the closure of numerous petrol stations around the country owing to (because of Brexit) a shortage of tanker drivers, many of whom are European, and now restricted from entering the U.K. (You couldn’t make it up!) This prompted me, immediately, to drive back to the Esso Station on London Road and replenish an half-filled fuel tank just in case. I then returned home, and, picked up my other car, a red convertible, and topped up that fuel tank also. The following day on the news, the lead item was queues at filling stations, along with motorists being interviewed on their opinions of this latest crisis. As I commented at the beginning of this epistle, I don’t purport to be the brainiest person on the planet. But, I do expect our revered leaders to have a minimal amount of common sense. Such leaders pleaded with T.V. viewers, and newspaper readers NOT to panic buy; there was/is plenty of fuel for everyone. Surely, if our esteemed government and industrial luminaries REALLY wanted to avert panic buying, they would have kept their big mouths shut about possible fuel shortages in the first place! Of course they would! This is far more sinister! Is this to create a rush to order electric cars? Or is this just another governmental cock-up?! I am reminded of the recent shortage of toilet paper, hand sanitizer and flour! And we seem to stagger from crisis to crisis. Apparently, (forget Yellowstone National Park) an almighty great volcano is said to be due to blow Italy out of the water and wipe out most of civilisation!

That’s enough doom and gloom! The visit of my sister and brother-in-law this week provided a welcome opportunity to revisit a few of the places I explored for the first time during the lock-downs of 2020. While reasonably familiar with the varying landscapes of the Peak District, this was all fairly new to my visitors, whom I would pick up each morning for breakfast at my place. Their time here passed too quickly, and only on the final morning did we not venture out somewhere. Checkout at the guesthouse proved a little complicated, but there was still time to relax at my home before taking my “guests” to the bus terminal for the start of their journey back to the Capital.

Home seems very quiet now; I quite miss getting under my sister’s feet in my kitchen!

Today, for a second time, I assisted in stewarding at the 17th century St. Anne’s Church during the two hour period it is open to the public on a Saturday afternoon. Surprisingly, the time passes very quickly. I am beginning to learn some of the fascinating details of this ancient place of worship.

I am informed that a steam train is arriving at Buxton on Wednesday next, having set off from Hereford at “silly o’clock” (05.55hrs). I was tempted to join the train at Crewe for the leisurely journey to Buxton via the Hope Valley. I may just walk down to the station and watch it arrive.

Many thanks for reading. David, 17.54 hrs 25/9/21

All of a sudden, I find that my days are becoming increasingly occupied. This is no bad thing.  After winding up in Intensive Care over four years ago, I chose to distance myself from all existing obligations.  Feeling that I had become “dead weight” after some lengthy surgery, I needed “unlimited” time to recover, rather than set myself a timetable or target.  That didn’t stop me from indulging in travelling (in some comfort) in six out of seven continents. It wasn’t too long before I was able to spend, for instance, three days on a train in Australia, or crossing Canada (from Toronto) to the Pacific Coast. All this has been documented in earlier blogs.

Much to my slight discomfort (but also to my relief) St. John’s continued very nicely without me as churchwarden.  Any help wanted from me when I returned was “below minimal”  leaving me questioning my relevance during my truncated term “in office.”  Delighted therefore was I to be asked to take care of the sound mixer during services, and now, finding myself back on sidesman’s duty around once a month.  As well as “meeting and greeting,” I shall read for the first time since January 2020.  And on Saturday, I am on stewarding duty for a couple of hours at the 17th century St. Anne’s Church, whose history, I understand, pre-dates the 1625 inscription carved above the entrance.  Time for some spiritual reflection then, as well as the possible debate between me and the other person on duty, on the merits or otherwise of ultra-modern worship. 

Buxton Festival (of which I am still a Patron) also maintains contact.  I feel that I do get my money’s worth, although that is not really the intention of my modest support.  I was invited to a “get-together” at the home of the Chairman of what is now, and has been now for some time, The Friends of Buxton Festival or, is it now, Friends of Buxton International Festival? “International” has been used and dropped twice before, in 1981 (I think) and in the 1990s.  The recent logo BIF still takes some getting used to.  We are on our fourth logo since 1979.  Interestingly, the Virgin logo has prevailed since the release of Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells album in the mid 1970s. 

It was only slightly cool for the gathering of people who had volunteered at the first post-lockdown Festival.  All extremely pleasant and convivial with the signature Friends’ catering as well as a generous bar, in the most attractive and extensive garden of the host. 

Tomorrow, I have been invited to the unveiling of a statue of the 5th Duke of Devonshire by the current Duke.  While this has been in situ for some time now, I welcome being present at this historic event, in the Crescent Square. 

Yesterday, I enjoyed not the longest of walks. Usually, I seek out some long-since closed piece of railway, adapted for cycling, horse riding and walking. However, on this occasion, I chose to revisit Solomon’s Temple, which I am told was built by public subscription in 1896.  Ever since Buxton became popular with visitors and holiday makers, “Sollers” has been a venue for numerous visitors, and remains so today.  In 1911, there was a cafe nearby, and the windows glazed.  I think, during the season, a cafe may do quite well, particularly at weekends. I think the longevity of reglazing might be short-lived!

I visited the Parish Office today to pick up my reading for Sunday.  Why is the extract from James split up, as presumably ordained by the Church of England?  But that is the reading as listed in the Lectionary for 19th September 2021. The reading ends mid-verse; the rest of that verse is definitely not woke!  I have read this from the King James and New International Version Bibles, complete with explanatory commentary.

Friday 17th September

Cool grey skies were the order of this morning diminishing the incentive to get out of bed. Nevertheless, I had an unveiling to attend, the 12th Duke of Devonshire unveiling the statue of his ancestor, the 5th Duke of Devonshire. This was a unique historical event I felt privileged to be invited to attend. I had the opportunity to express my pleasure of the renaissance of The Crescent to Trevor Osborne whose unstinting commitment resulted in the most magnificent restoration of the long since out of use building, which for decades appeared abandoned. I have documented my stays and other events at this magnificent hotel in previous blogs.

I am back home now, having enjoyed, thoroughly this extremely agreeable event. I am looking forward to my third stay at The Crescent during the Buxton International Festival “Big Weekend.” Oh! Good heavens. I will have to bring out the dinner suit!

Thank you for reading this blog. Warmest wishes, David, 18.41hrs Friday, 17th September 2021.

I am not on my own when September 11th brings a lump to my throat. I had sailed by the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center just five months prior, on board Cunard’s Queen Elizabeth 2, my first classic transatlantic west bound crossing in May 2001.

Twenty years ago on September 11th, my turn of duty at Buxton Station was 15.00 hrs “as required.” Thus I had the morning to myself, and not yet having been assigned a train to work, I could allow myself to leave home for work, “at the last minute,” the next train departing, if I remember rightly, at 15.47hrs. I remember not what I had for lunch that day; but there was a small amount of time to relax in front of the television before venturing to work. BBC 2 were broadcasting a documentary about the Gilbert and Sullivan Festivals in San Francisco and Buxton. I quite like G & S but find the obsessiveness around Gilbert’s Victorian satire and Sullivan’s melodic tones, annoying at times.  I understand Harrison Bertwhistle described Arthur Sullivan as sub – Mendelssohn!  (That may well be apocryphal, but if I was described as sub-Mendelssohn, I would take it as a great compliment!)  The documentary did irritate me and I switched from BBC 2 to BBC 1.  What I saw would make me a tad late for work.  The image of thick smoke emanating from The World Trade Center had me in paralysed disbelief.  A red bar at the foot of the picture screamed America Under Attack.  Rather shaken, I drove to work and welcomed the temporary normality of getting into the car  for the seven to ten minute drive to the Station.  I rang the Supervisor at Manchester Piccadilly to book on duty, and still, all jobs were covered.  I switched on the mess-room T.V.  My memory is inaccurate, but I seem to recall the second tower collapsing. People working trains were unaware of what had taken place, and froze, momentarily, in disbelief at what was unfolding. I was due to fly to Canada around ten days later.  I sent what was probably my first ever e-mail to a lady I know in New York with what must have been an inadequate message of sympathy. Even now, we remain in touch very occasionally. Along with her English husband, she was on last year’s South America voyage.

The events of 9/11 obviously altered the course of history, but twenty years later sees  me watching The Last Night of the Proms. At one time, I would “give my eye teeth” to be there. But, the pandemic persists and being shoulder to shoulder in a crowd of several thousand strikes me as rather unwise.  Are all those in the audience double-jabbed; have all undergone and passed a Lateral Flow Test?   The orchestra and choir are superbly socially distanced, but the audience rather less so. This is where my new big fancy telly comes into its own.  There is a,strange but interesting mix of music tonight with beamed in (pre-recorded) contributions from Wales Ireland and Scotland….to be continued

Sunday 12th September

continued….And despite my grumpiness, when the concert which I have followed most  years since childhood, was rather more enjoyable than in previous years.  Since childhood, I have always liked “Rule Britannia,” more for stirring melody than incomprehensible (to me) libretto!  In 1977 I actually got into a Last Night of the Proms with former Halle Orchestra conductor James Loughran in charge.  I’m sure it was he who introduced Auld Lang Syne to bring the proceedings to a close.  I am not keen on the traditional hymn Jerusalem, but even last night, one of my least favourite hymns did sound glorious with audience and orchestra almost drowning out the mighty Albert Hall organ which earlier, trounced the encore of Land of  Hope and Glory not quite drowning out audience and orchestra!  Through my headphones, and in front an almost perfect screen, it was just like bring there without the risk of covid and disturbing the neighbours!   

Within minutes of the titles marking the end of the broadcast, my life returned to a normal and unremarkable Saturday, but I was ready for some sleep shortly after Tesco sandwiches which deputised for dinner!

This morning, I awoke, briefly not having a clue what day it was.  The time was approximately 08.41 hrs when it dawned on me that I should be preparing for church. Outside, it was bright and sunny. “No excuse not to walk down, then” I pondered, and then selected what I would wear for the day.  Although I had plenty of time between getting dressed and setting off, that time soon passed and, as the sky turned to threatening shade of grey, I jumped into the car.  

Right now, ( early evening) I am listening to Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony on YouTube. This is a live concert given by the Mahler Chamber Orchestra under Maxime Pascal a young and extremely competent interpreter of Mahler.  Each one of the Chamber Orchestra is a virtuoso in his/her own right.  Maxime Pascal is just 36, with the expertise of Bruno Walter or Simon Rattle. This performance came “on stream” on 10th September,  just two days ago, and has, so far, been viewed 12,000 times.  I think that is remarkable.  It was my sister Helene who introduced me to Mahler while I was still at primary school.  Then, I just loved the melodies, harmony, sudden explosions of joy/disaster, and of course, that unsurpassable finale which still causes the eyes to well up.  How on earth did Helene come across Mahler in the 1950s?  In those days, this was far from everyday music.  But I will always be grateful to her for allowing me to enjoy her prized L.P.  – conducted by Bruno Walter. 

Being September, the nights are drawing in inevitably. It is 7.35 and a cloud-covered sky hastens the darkness, which, “falls at Thy behest.”

Monday 13th September

It’s taking me forever to finish this blog. A quiet week awaits, and probably, I will not write too much until the weekend.

Many thanks indeed for reading. With all good wishes, David, 12.39hrs 13/9/21.

Albeit a bit brief for my liking, the Indian summer was a nice surprise given the forecasts from the prohpets of doom residing in the Meteorological Office, and in the media. The predicted clouds of menacing grey did materialise, but where was the Almighty’s spectacular son et lumiere ?  There were storms and (most unwelcome) flooding elsewhere. There is something to be said for living on top of a hill, (or almost, at the top of what is known locally as Barker’s Hill).

I was thankful, yesterday, that the rain held off until late in the afternoon; I had arranged to meet a colleague from Church recovering from major surgery.  Meeting in the very attractive and thoughtfully landscaped garden negated my having to endure a covid-19 lateral flow test. Nevertheless, I did take one at home, reassuring myself that I wasn’t unknowingly carrying the Coronavirus. I will never get used to the process!  Will I think differently at Southampton Cruise Terminal as I board R.M.S. Queen Mary 2 in January for a much needed “28 night QM2 fix.”  A former work colleague, this morning, has sent me pictures of QM2 in dry dock, where presumably, some kind of a refit is occurring.  I was somewhat surprised that a YouTube channel rated Queen Mary 2 as the 8th most ugly passenger ship ever.  Certainly, the dry dock images didn’t do my “favourite place to be” any favours!

And I do remember being a tad disappointed at the very first pictures taken during its sea trials in 2003.  But, at the end of that year, I got to see it (QM2) in the flesh at the shipyard in St. Nazaire, and was more than impressed.  That was a glorious few days organised by the maritime magazine Ships Monthly. I was the only one in the party booked on the Maiden Voyage which does not seem 17 years ago.  I doubt that I hold any kind of a record, but I have, on average, sailed on Queen Mary 2 at least once for every year in service, and intend maintaining this average until it or I cease to be.  At “age 17,” I suspect QM2 will be around longer than I am.  However, I do intend taking part in the Cunard 200th anniversary celebrations in 2040; I will be 91, and will more than likely be the only one to have been at all three major celebrations in 1990, 2015, and (very hopefully) 2040.  Perhaps I may then sell off my ocean liner collection. Will anybody still be interested in (whoops) just under nineteen years!

It “feels” almost normal, and that the pandemic is nearly over. It isn’t, but at least the vaccination programme appears to have kept the deaths to some kind of a minimum.  I still can’t help but lament the lethargic and arrogant way the the crisis was tackled by our revered leaders, and some of those from across a nearby ocean.  But, that was then, and this is now. 

Coffee is, once again, served after Church on Sunday morning.  This coming Sunday, the choir will be back from its annual visit to Durham, and it will be hard to distinguish “now” from pre-pandemic days.  But the danger is still there.

My wonderful travel agent has put together a most imaginative railtour across the United States to fill in the 24 days between arriving at Vancouver from my cruise around Japan and Alaska, and sailing home from New York, my first “classic” transatlantic crossing since 2019.  With luck, I shall get to see the Grand Canyon as well as celebrate Independence Day in New Orleans. My plans are ambitious. The rail tour goes something like this:- Vancouver, Seattle, Chicago, Los Angeles, New Orleans, New York, staying at least two nights in the places mentioned except possibly L.A. where I shall maybe stay just one night.  Things, however will have to change; as far as I know, we are not allowed into North America right now.  But planning is a pleasure, even if postponement is a prime possibility.

Not many pictures today, but the week after next, I shall be seeing my sister and brother-in-law for the first time since December 2019.  I look forward to this enormously.

Saturday morning has arrived. Thanks for reading,  David, 00.09hrs Sept 11th.

In my last blog, I lamented that the weatherman had promised no Indian summer for September. In mere days, he was (thankfully) proved wrong and my “Sunday best” was far too warm for the unexpectedly sunny Sunday two days ago. However, the weatherman’s pessimism persisted with insisting that all would change from Thursday, perhaps even tomorrow. I hope he’s wrong again!

Yesterday turned out to be one of those “well-filled” days. The morning was mostly taken up manning the Church sound system at a memorial service for a well known Buxton resident. I was presented with a CD by the undertaker with three tracks to be played at the beginning, during the middle, and at the end of the service. The music chosen was appropriate for the occasion.

My sister, Mary, found a home for the T.V. I mentioned in my previous blog which had been replaced by a 2021 model. Said “telly” had been loaded into my car on Sunday afternoon, ready for being transporting to its new home, eventually in Leeds for use as a computer screen. I am delighted that this perfectly good equipment is being put to continued use, rather than abandoned for possible recycling. The first part of its journey was to Lancaster. I have been up here in recent times, but would visit quite frequently during my brief period as a company representative for a well known air-cushion lawn mower firm, over fifty years ago. Ye Gods! Where has half a century gone?! For the first time since 1970, I had a coffee at the one-time space age Forton Motorway Services, futuristic for 1968 when it opened, but looking rather dated today. However, it remains quite nice inside with the usual present day “franchise” outlets and eateries….still stupidly expensive! I used to like motorway driving. It was simple: slow lane, fast lane, and overtaking lane. Things are different now. Incomprehensible junctions and road schemes, hardshoulders replaced by a fourth lane, traffic flirting all over the place. I do not like the concept of SMART MOTORWAYS, which seems to assume no cars ever break down. Without so much as a “slight shunt,” I made it to the former space ship inspired Lancaster (Forton) Services.

Here, I enjoyed a coffee and cheese and ham toastie before setting the sat-nav for the remainder of my journey. Road works created around an hour’s delay, but coming home was much more straightforward and more like “old times.” There was no congestion at any of the numerous road works.

I enjoyed my nostalgic journey “oop north” and may well drive up again, with a now redundant sound system which for years could be heard next door. Listening through headphones is every bit as good.

Many thanks for reading, David, 12.23hrs 7/9/21.

Actually, it’s September 2nd, but one would need some convincing! After what seemed like a miserable August, the weatherman dashed any hopes of a possible Indian summer.

The intention was to resume almost daily walking, as in the early part of the year. And while I have made one or two “efforts,” that’s more or less what they were, efforts. Instead, I treated myself…to an almost top of the range television in the hopes of being able of being able to view photographs and videos I have taken previously, on my fancy new 50″ piece of ultra HD high-tec gear. It’s impressive although some colours are too vivid occasionally. I can’t bring myself to “ditch” the old TV. If anybody would like a 2009 42,inch Toshiba Regza, you are welcome; no charge. It works as well as the day I bought it from a real television shop in Buxton, long since passed into history. And, if you live in a flat, it does have a headphone socket so that the neighbours need not be disturbed! If, as I suspect, nobody is interested, it will eventually be reinstalled in the upstairs lounge/spare bedroom.

I continue to “show myself up” from time to time. Yesterday the Internet on this device slowed right down, almost to a standstill, but not quite. I contacted Sky who confirmed that any problem was probably an “at home” issue. I agreed with this, and switched the phone off in the hopes that turning it back on would eliminate the problem. It didn’t. Today, I ventured to the local store, prepared for gross embarrassment. What I wasn’t prepared for was the lady in the shop (who is superb on anything to do with “high-tec”) showing me that my wi-fi was switched off!

A former colleague from work offered to carry out the installation of my new T.V. He was persuasive and at the thought of a professional installation charge of £53.00, I was persuaded. I felt his recommendation for Samsung was valid; that is this phone is from the Samsung range. This means that I should be able to enjoy the photographs I take almost every day, on the 50 inch (diagonal) screen. The pessimism in me warns that when viewed on the big screen, the picture quality may well be very much reduced.

I continue to enjoy these endless days of leisure. Annoyingly, the days pass with increasing haste, but all with whom I talk say “me too!” However, as mentioned frequently in previous writings, I do have much overseas travel to look forward to, including four ocean voyages.

There may be no pictures in this blog, but within the next ten months, I hope to be able to post images of Mt. Fuji, the American Rockies and perhaps a 2022 view of New York from The Empire State Building (my first ever picture from there was taken in 1971). That was two years before the World Trade Center was opened, 48 years ago. Before all that, a much needed sunshine cruise to the Caribbean. It will all come and go very quickly.

In the meantime, my sound engineer friend might have identified the fault with the Church sound system…another thrown switch! Now to make myself look really clever!

Many thanks for reading, David, The Tradesman’s Entrance, 13.57hrs, and expecting a parking ticket!

FRIDAY 27th August.

The dithering is over…half way through January, I board RMS Queen Mary 2 for her 28 night voyage to the Eastern Caribbean, calling at Madeira on the way out and Tenerife on the way back.  Apart from Barbados which I am looking forward to revisiting, the rest of the ports of call are places I have not visited previously. There will be few opportunities for basking in the sun for the first three and final three days of the voyage, the other twenty or so days will be sheer bliss! My booked cabin, on Deck 12, has no windows; the few remaining ocean-view and balcony cabins having been sold during the few days I dithered wondering whether to go, or not!

This is merely the “overture” to the “biggie” in May when I visit Japan and South Korea for the first time before sailing on to Alaska and Vancouver, exploring North America by train and sailing home from New York.   I am enjoying looking forward to these adventures but in the back of my mind, I am well aware of the continuing pandemic.  I won’t be surprised if my travel ambitions have to rearranged yet again, nor will by overly annoyed – I don’t think.

Yesterday, I was introduced to yet another, but thankfully, easier walk in the nearby moorlands.  From one of the highest points on the A537 road from Buxton to Macclesfield, being quite a clear day, it was possible to make out the Malvern Hills in Worcestershire, faintly on the very distant horizon. On the clearest of days, it is also possible to pick out the mountains of the Lake District.  That wasn’t possible yesterday. I parked on the car park of the Cat and Fiddle, now a whisky distillery which purports to be the highest in the land.  This place used to merely be a pub which I never felt overly comfortable in.  I’m not keen on pubs anyway!   However, after a short period of closure, it has morphed into a distillery which visitors can be shown around, as well as an eatery specialising in pies, mash and peas.  The whole place is extremely nice, and I felt very comfortable there enjoying a “post-walk” cup of tea.  Opposite, a bridleway connects this road with that of the Congleton road, I think around 1.5 miles distant. This provides an easy opportunity to get into the countryside rather than just seeing it from the car. I had allowed the battery on this device to almost deplete, thus keeping photography to a minimum. Here, however, are a few views I enjoyed yesterday.

SATURDAY 29th August

While I enjoyed my day yesterday, today is much brighter and warmer. Nevertheless, I didn’t leave the house until after 3.30 this afternoon. So far, my good intentions to go for another walk remain just that, good intentions. I am on my way, however, but, awaiting a light lunch at a nearby cafe and bookstore, where I am at risk of taking root yet again.  The lunch came, and yes, it was light.  For whatever reason, service felt incredibly slow; there are numerous signs around the place requesting patience.  I obliged, the lady at the cash till was rushed off her feet, while elderly customers dithered and fumbled, as the queue grew!  This is impressive!  The tea is presented just like Mother used to; proper leaf tea with strainer, and a jug of hot water.

Buxton and the surrounding area is vastly different from when I moved away from leafy Cheshire to Harpur Hill in August 1975.  Restaurants were aplenty in that part of the world, many well represented in The Good Food Guide which Father would refer to frequently!  Numerous dinners out may well have laid the foundations of my diabetes, decades later, although I think Cunard had a big hand in this also!   Unlike forty-six years ago, Buxton now has a wide choice of places to eat.  Where I am now once was an old fashioned garage where the attendant would serve the amount of fuel you requested.  The premises were re-purposed to a “must-visit” bookstore at which simple coffee/tea facilities were added, and now, a wonderful tea room with wide choice of hot and cold fare is offered.  This is less than a mile from where I live, and even closer, is The Parks Inn, described frequently in previous blogs.  Britain’s said-to-be highest whisky distillery offers luxurious sitting areas and good food.  This really is a good place to live – er – in the summertime at least.

I needed to return home fairly urgently. However, I did go on a walk over a route I am familiar and comfortable with. It’s just over two miles, which is better than nothing! I revisted the portion of the former Cromford and High Peak Railway which overlooks much of Harpur Hill.

I have to be extremely careful (and disciplined) these days, no longer being able to indulge in éclairs, Mars Bars, cakes, ice cream, biscuits, malt loaf, Black Forest gateaux or gateaux of any kind. Life somehow, does remain a pleasure. I gave up on alcohol decades ago, but I do miss a decent hot chocolate. Britvic fruit juices are out of the question. I have developed taste for, and can enjoy tap water provided I am in the U.K.,  North America or any similarly developed country. 

SUNDAY 29th August

Today, I attended Church as usual, joining Tom for a coffee afterwards and then Roger for lunch. I had walked down, very aware that I needed to take the opportunity for some gentle exercise. After lunch, Roger took me on a guided tour of more of the area around Chelmorton. Although a rather easy walk this time, nevertheless there were several stiles. I struggle with these much more than when I was younger.

Tomorrow is Bank Holiday Monday. A fine warm day had been forecast, but now I learn that just like today, the skies are going to be overcast with temperatures like late autumn. Never mind! I doubt it will snow!

Many thanks for reading,

David, 00.30hrs Aug.30th.