David's Cruise

Monday 22nd June to Wednesday 24th.

Written Thursday 25th June from 09.35 hrs.

Let’s see if this works. I had a communication from WordPress explaining why I couldn’t upload photographs any more; I had used up all my allocated space. (I forget the terminology!) I needed to upgrade my “plan”. This I have just done at small fee of £60 for the next two years, hopefully less the 20% promotion which applies to today only. So, here goes!

We have been basking in magnificent sunshine since the weekend. On Monday, with my neighbour from over the road, we revisited another portion of the long-since closed Cromford and High Peak Railway, this time, near the Goyt Reservoir. This section, between Whaley Bridge and Ladmanlow had been abandoned in c. 1892. The L.N.W.R.’s line to Buxton had been opened in 1863 and thus formed a much less arduous route when a further line from Buxton to Ashbourne opened in stages during the late 1890s. If the original C. & H.P. Rly had somehow survived to the recent outbreak of covid-19, I am sure that it would have become a much loved tourist attraction. The countryside around here is as fine as any, with densely wooded hills and reservoir, all of which providing vast areas to explore and lose one’s self in.

The problem with writing in retrospect is that items worth recalling in a blog can be forgotten. I don’t remember doing too much on Tuesday when the weather seemed to be rivaling that of some of the hotter places I have travelled to recently. I did a little sunbathing in my back garden, and I think, not much else. However, Lee, a colleague and friend from the Buxton Festival called to invite me over for a coffee in his back garden the next day. I had no plans for yesterday and accepted the invitation. Travelling to Mottram, an idyllic “postcard” village provided an opportunity for a decent drive with the roof down. My little red Peugeot came into its own. I have had the car now for just over four years.

The village of Mottram is full of ancient buildings, is extremely attractive and wonderful centre from which to wander. I thoroughly enjoyed my day.

Saint Michael and All Angel’s Church.

The Stocks!

I am thankful that I can now illustrate my blogs once again, and readers should now not have to put up with silly advertisements!

Thanks for reading, David, 10.53 hrs.

Sunday Worship, for a second week, comes from Holy Trinity Platt Fields, Manchester. The hymn playing rock band while brilliant, continue to purvey their repertoire of ghastly modern praise, ‘though to be fair, musically and lyrically, not that bad. Hymns at “Holy Platt” are sometimes referred to as worship songs. The trouble is, this kind of praise appears to put two fingers up to the traditional worship I grew up with, but much of which my father detested! Today’s theme, The Prodical Son. I “kind of” feel reassured. Now, I do like the pop version of Be Thou my Vision. There’s no accounting for taste! It was that which brought the curtain down on this morning’s Sunday Worship during which time, I was constantly reminded that it was Fathers’ Day….shouldn’t that be Fathering Sunday?…perhaps not! David.

Wednesday to Saturday.

It will soon be the longest day, thereafter,the nights will begin to “draw in”. I have never really understood why July and August are usually the best months of the summer, although this year, we have been blessed with weeks of dry, bright, and at times, even in Buxton, warm weather.

It looks as if the coronavirus situation is less serious right now, with far fewer reported cases and deaths than a couple of months ago. But, there shouldn’t be any fatalities due to covid-19.

The longed for thunderstorm occurred on Monday evening after a fine but humid day. It wasn’t particularly spectacular and Tuesday returned to being quite pleasant again. Another thunderstorm ended the day. But, as the week progressed, the rain fell, at times, like stair-rods, and I needed to switch on the heating, and once again, wear a vest! I had no problem with this more normal weather, I made reasonable progress sorting out and tidying up my belongings at home.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny. No need for central heating today. I opened my front door early this afternoon to find the gardeners manicuring the front rockery. The back lawn now looks as if croquet could be played there. I am looking forward to some lazy hours outside beneath a hot sun.

Tomorrow is indeed Midsummer’s Day, and there’s supposed to be some kind of solar eclipse. From what I understand, it won’t occur in the U.K., not even partially. In any case, it’s taking place at a time that doesn’t exist on my clock!

I have e-mailed Customer Services at WordPress for advice concerning the inclusion of pictures in my blog. They replied immediately “because of Coronavirus, there may be some delay replying to your question…” It’s the same with my holiday insurance company, except that they have not acknowledged correspondence from me sent in April and at the end of May. I’m unimpressed!

Stay safe, and thanks for reading, David. 22.24 hrs, Saturday 20th June 2020.

Compiled Wednesday 17th June from 08.30hrs.

I like a good thunderstorm (occasionally), and plenty were forecast as the recent weekend drew to a close and the new week began. “Thunder, thunder, Wherefore art Thou?” Instead, Sunday and Monday were rather nice days, too warm to be using a t-shirt as a vest as I did during previous week which was unseasonably cool and wet. Said thunderstorm did materialise yesterday evening, after yet another pleasant day.

I am still “self isolating”, being perfectly happy to have other people do my shopping. I am not sure that I like this continued situation, but I still welcome the opportunities presented to unravel the disorganisation of where I live, and carry on with the task of tidying up and decluttering, and going for decent walks, weather and inclination permitting! The days pass by quickly, and generally, I sleep well at night, far better than towards the end of my working career. I wasn’t taking Statins then to reduce the cholesterol of a prolonged diet of kebabs, pizzas, pie and chips, and the like!

As they days morph into weeks, and the months pass by with indecent haste (this happens increasingly with age), and I follow the current affairs of the day with mixed interest (and Coronation Street with less!), I do ponder where we shall be, this time next year. There are fears of a second wave of Coronavirus. Simultaneously, there are serious suggestions that Covid 19 is on its way out. I am not amongst the optimists on this one. Nevertheless, I am enjoying these still early days of retirement. The views of Axe Edge and Hoffman’s Quarry, from my small back garden remain as pleasing as ever, even in lousy weather. And there has been plenty of opportunity to relax outside, occasionally, with company two metres away!

Very best wishes, and thanks for reading, David 09.20hrs.

The weather on both days, dry pleasant and more like summer.

I suppose it was appropriate that Morning Worship today came from “Holy Trinity Platt” on the outskirts of Manchester. When I lived with my parents in Knutsford, Cheshire, between 1969 and 1975, I chose to worship at the Parish Church, St. John’s on Toft Road. The Rev’d John Wooldridge was the Vicar, Roy Weaver, his Curate. I think, mainly, I attended Evensong. Both clergy erred on the evangelical side, which didn’t sit too well with Mum and Dad. I joined the local youth group which would meet weekly in the vicarage on Gough’s Lane, a road of very expensive detached houses set in massive gardens, homes of the wealthy. It still is; whether the vicarage remains home to the Vicar of Knutsford, almost, unbelievably, fifty years later, I know not.

These memories were awakened because I was determined to watch this morning’s religious offerings on BBC 1 at the seemingly regular time of 10.45 hrs. It was at Holy Trinity Platt ( I assume Platt refers to Platt Fields) that some fifty years previously, I joined a few of my acquaintances from the Knutsford youth group, known as “Koinonia” (fellowship), for worship at this well known church. Holy Trinity, Platt was packed like a Rolling Stones concert, wall-to-wall Christians led by the then Bishop of Chester, Michael Baughen. I remember that service with less pleasure than my first experience of root canal surgery! My father was slightly amused that I referred to the church as “Holy Platt”. Bishop Baughen had rewritten the hymn book, replacing those familiar “songs of praise” from Hymns Ancient and Modern with ghastly watered down versions set to dumbed-melodies, few of which survive today.

So, what had changed since my very early twenties. As usual today, Morning Worship with just a handful of clergy (because churches remain closed, due to coronavirus), in the surrealistically empty building, was interspersed with snippets from Songs of Praise which came from there in 2017. Like 1970, the church was rammed with a wide cross section of society. All sang with the ecstasy of having just won the lottery. (Spiritually, they probably had!) Credit where it’s due. If once there was a pipe organ, now, there was a superb band of excellent musicians. The two who read from the Bible did so clearly, fluently and with appropriate confidence. The address (sermon) was inspiring without being over-the-top. I liked the analogy of children turning to their parents for comfort and reassurance; that we should turn to God for the same, was something “that I could see coming”. Nevertheless, it was a reassuring message, even for me. I may not like what is disparagingly referred to as “happy-clappy” worship, but, it does seem to work extremely well; the church being vibrant and progressive.

Yesterday, the promised lousy weather didn’t materialise and it’s still nice today. I feel as if I have made visible progress with the decluttering and tidying up of my house. I have come to terms with the continued irritation of not being able to get my hair cut. There was a little bit on the news about a new outbreak in China of covid 19, with resultant immediate lockdowns in the areas affected. Tomorrow, many shops will open for the first time since March. But, my vulnerability to the pandemic has not diminished and I will continue to be very cautious to where I chose to venture.

Thanks for reading, David. 14/6/20, 13.37 hrs.

Written Saturday morning from 09.08 hrs

This week, on Thursday 11th June, I entered my 77th day of self isolation, the same number of nights I was on board Cunard’s Queen Victoria on her South America Voyage. A time for reflection, perhaps. During this period of U.K. lock-down, and hardly leaving “Harpur Hill City Limits”, I have enjoyed the opportunity to explore small portions of the Cromford and High Peak Railway which once skirted past the now abandoned Hoffman’s Quarry, now, thanks to Social Media, world famous for its Blue Lagoon. And also, other places not too far away.

But, restrictions do seem to be lifting. Shops are being allowed to open on Monday 15th June, subject to social distancing and other precautions. My optician in Bakewell had invited to a routine eye examination, and, needless to say, I was in need of spectacles appropriate for my slightly deteriorated eyesight. Having sat on a pair of reading glasses, I felt it wise to have a new pair! I drove to Bakewell for a second time to pick them up (hopefully not as well as a parking ticket!)

I do love that little red convertible Peugeot that I bought, I think in April 2016…Is it really four years ago since that bit of modest indulgence? However, all the time I have had it, the battery has been prone to drain after standing for a couple of days, particularly in the winter. Needless to say, on my return from holiday (all 78 days of it) the red car was as dead as a dodo. Eventually, my neighour over the road charged the battery overnight and the next day I went for a spin in my beloved vehicle. It purred like a sewing machine as if it had not been standing for around five months in Buxton’s winter of very high winds, biblical rain fall and cold. I’m not sure how much snow there was this year.

Even if allowed to travel in January next year, I have no plans to; the big trip begins at the end of July…and I am not convinced that even then, things will be as they were.

Last night, while flicking through the You Tube offerings, I discovered that B.B.C.’s “Question Time” came from Buxton and was broadcast on the eve of Brexit! Darn it…I would have joined the audience if I wasn’t en route for South America. I remember being a little concerned about the Covid 19 situation which had, by that time, closed down China. However, we were travelling in the opposite direction! It was interesting to be reminded that Northern Rail would be no longer run by the present Company from, I think, March 1st. I got the impression that the government were taking credit for the introduction of new trains! There was a mixed quality of debate on both rail and public transport in the North, as well as continued opinion on HS2, followed by the now serious question of what would later be declared a world pandemic. I finished watching Question Time this morning before getting up.

I am beginning, at long last, to make progress with the “decluttering” and tidying up of my home. It’s about time the whole place was redecorated; I have been planning and talking about this for years. I am not sorry that my travels in July have had to be postponed; it gives me plenty of opportunity to “get things done”.

Time for breakfast. Thanks for reading, David. 10.34 hrs. Saturday 13th June 2020.

“Time to reflect…” Monday 8th

I had to force myself to leave the house for a stroll tonight. And I had to on Friday last; Roger from over the road had suggested a walk in the dramatic area of Topley Pike, 4.7 miles out of Buxton on the A6 towards Bakewell, inspiration to Cunard, of what must be those world famous tarts, served as dessert at dinner on their ships. When I go on these walks, I am reminded that just about three years ago, my neighbours next door would support me on both sides as I struggled to the first lamp post on our road, maybe just ten or fifteen yards away. This was towards the end of May 2017 following (as most reading this blog are reminded repeatedly) open heart surgery. This was like the beginning of a second life, infinitely better than the first in that now, no longer had I to attend school and then, afterwards, earn a living!

The lovely warm spring weather of the last two weeks had given way to cool and wet influences from the north. This produced some interesting skies as the sun dipped behind the hills mid-evening. It had become cool for the time of year, but that’s not unusual for these parts.

I am now looking back to this time 45 years ago, when on June 2nd 1975, snow had fallen to such an extent that a County Cricket match had to be cancelled, “snow stopped play!” I had resolved to move out from my parent’s home in leafy Knutsford and live much nearer to my place of work, Buxton Traction Maintenance Depot from where I would eventually drive trains, both freight and local passenger. My original plan to live in a caravan was not really practical but now that I was in regular employment (but for how long was anyone’s guess…), it was possible to consider taking out a mortgage. This must have been one of the most exciting times in my life, looking for my own house. I brought Mother along on my searches for somewhere suitable, and eventually, where I still live, on Nettleton Lane, filled the bill nicely. Yes, it needed much work as the previous owner had knocked it around somewhat. Over the years, it had my much more conventional stamp over most of it.

Tonight, I walked beyond the former post office, now a private house, to the one time green railings from where I can look far into the rural distance towards Burbage and Macclesfield. It’s one of those views which changes each day. I reflected on those first days of living in a brand new town, and some of the adventures and events which filled the next forty-five years.

It was taking an evening stroll tonight that prompted me to write something a little bit different from the usual descriptions of lock-down. Forty five years ago, there was always that nagging threat of nuclear war. Maybe there still is. Coming back from South America this year, the Coronavirus situation was being taken very seriously by all those on board ship, crew, entertainers, waiters, barmen and passengers. We all were apprehensive about what would await us at Southampton. One eminent lecturer finished his presentation by saying, and now to Armageddon. And for over 40,000 he was (probably) right. The world is now vastly different to how it was at the beginning of January. I just missed the ghastly panic buying of mid-March and being over 70 & thus deemed vulnerable, I still have somebody to do my essential shopping. It didn’t take long to get used to that.

Two anniversaries therefore:- August, 45years since moving to Harpur Hill, and on October 15th, what would have been my grandfather’s 150th birthday. I find that my great great grandfather was born somewhere around 1807, in the reign of George lll. (1760 – 1820). No wonder I have gone grey!

I wonder if I keep writing these blogs, I may have eventually, enough material for the long since promised autobiography, “I wish I kept my Big Mouth Shut!”

On that note, folks, Stay Safe and Best Wishes, David. 23.38hrs.

End of the driest spring on record.

I have lost count of the number of weeks we have all been in “lock-down”. Today, Thursday, is the 70th day since I came back off holiday; therefore I believe this is week eleven for the U.K. in general, my tenth week of trying to dodge the “coronavirus bullet”. These weeks at home have given me time to do exactly as I please. I am most fortunate to still have my essential shopping and laundry taken care of, and at long last, I am getting into some kind of daily routine of housework, meal preparation and at least twenty minutes’ walking most days. My promise to myself of not watching too much TV has yet to materialise! But I do have to confess to a possible obsession regarding “avoiding Covid 19 like the plague”.

I have ventured further in recent weeks. And in the final days of the end of May’s blistering heatwave, my red convertible Peugeot came into its own as I cruised around the Derbyshire Dales in glorious piping hot sunshine, a rare occurrence in this part of the world, even in these days of global warming. I had been to Bakewell on Monday for a routine eye test, and knowing that the following day would see the end of this period of decent weather, I drove out to Hurdlow for, initially, a four mile round trip walk to Parsley Hay, along what was once the railway line from Buxton to Ashbourne. The day was gorgeous with few clouds in an azure blue sky. Walking was most pleasant, and reaching the site of Parsley Hay Station, now a facility with toilets, cafe, and a place from where bicycles can be hired, it took seemingly far less time than I might have expected. I decided to carry on further to what is now known as Newhaven Tunnel, over which the A515 Buxton to Ashbourne main road passes. This former railway would meet the one time Midland route at Cromford. A stone plaque above the tunnel mouth at each end identifies the first operator of this railway, the Cromford and High Peak, and its architects. While the plaque at the Parsley Hay end is clear and sharp, that at the Cromford end is now hard to discern. The C.and H. P. Railway was established in 1825. The little I have read tells me the Railway opened in 1830. I first walked along here in the 1980s and ever since, I have been fascinated with this remote but much documented railway.

I didn’t stay too long, just long enough to take some present day images of the Tunnel. I turned around and walked back to Parsley Hay, stopping a while at the resting place, but not partaking of any refreshments. I continued back towards Hurdlow and then, a little further in the direction of Buxton. I don’t know about anybody else, but when I walk along here, with fields and gentle hills spreading to a distant horizon, the world doesn’t seem such a small place, which of course, it isn’t. I had covered around six miles, and although a wonderfully pleasant afternoon, I had little energy for much else when I arrived back home.

Right on cue, Wednesday had become decidedly cool, an irritating wind from the north banishing ten days of warmth to somewhere far from here. I had to go into Buxton to deliver my lottery payment, this would be my first trip into town since March 27th, the day I came back from South America. I still subscribe to the syndicate I joined whilst I was working. Any accumulated winnings are minuscule at the moment! While down town, I chose to experience lock-down Buxton for myself. Few places were open, and the grey sky added to impression of a ghost town with curious visitors walking through. I did meet somebody from church and we caught up a little bit. I came home, somewhat thankful that I lived on the edge of town where the impact of the current situation feels (for me at least) less severe.

Today, Thursday, there was little incentive to venture out. I did go to the local garage to sort out a replacement ignition key for the red car. This will be ready on Saturday. Tomorrow, I shall have to dress up warmly for another afternoon walk. I didn’t walk today; whereas on Tuesday, the temperature was in the high twenties Celsius, yesterday, the car indicated a maximum 11 degrees. It’s the same today….11 degrees Celsius.

Many thanks for reading. With best wishes, and as they say, stay safe. David 00.50hrs Friday 5th June.

The warm fine weather continues, and with a relaxing of some of the lock-down restrictions, it feels as if Harpur Hill has become a major tourist/visitor attraction, mainly because the toxic quarry pool, dubbed the Blue Lagoon has received wide social media attention. To understand more of the attraction of the long since abandoned quarry, Google Blue Lagoon Buxton.

Yesterday, Saturday 29th May, I invited my neighbour from over the road to join me for tea in the garden. I had been over the road for several “cuppas” the day before.  The small patio which separates the rear of the house from the back lawn, is a sun trap, and I have known being able to relax outside, even in February.

I found somewhere else to walk this morning. I had started to get up shortly after  7 am, but was in no hurry, and I took my time coming down for breakfast. Yesterday, Saturday, I awoke shortly after 10.30, after a disturbed night.

Schools open tomorrow, as do open markets. The seemingly rapid quest to restore normality is, I feel, too soon; the virus seems still to be thriving; the radio/T.V. still reports substantial (though reducing) numbers of casualties.

Monday 1st June 2020.

It is yet another lovely warm day, although I feel an increasing number of clouds are the harbinger of more normal weather to come, probably from tomorrow night. The Eye Place in Bakewell had e-mailed me last week offering my slightly delayed eye test. Thankfully, there was no appreciable deterioration since my previous visit in 2019. I did enjoy the opportunity to drive with the roof down. Nevertheless, I did acquire a parking ticket…there was a dithering queue at the ticket machine! This has not spoiled my day, and a cheque will be in the post tonight. There were are few people walking around Bakewell which even today had something of a ghost town feel, albeit with numerous establishments having their doors open. I had planned to take a few pictures on my ‘phone but annoyingly, found that I had left my phone at home.

I tried again to insert a photograph. Again no luck! Best wishes, David. 1st June.

20.22 hrs

It has been suggested, I believe by the person who started this recent tradition, that tonight should be the final Clap for our Carers and N.H.S. personnel. Nevertheless, right on the dot of 8 pm, from nowhere came the sounds of applause, saucepan banging and the wail of sirens. Right on cue, the regulars on our lane appeared on their front drives to demonstrate their support for all those front-line staff who still continue to put their lives at risk.

There is a sense that the crisis is coming to an end, and people are out in droves enjoying the unusually warm and dry weather. I visited the Post Office today, observing the social distancing precautions put in place. I took my red car out for the first time since January 8th when I had filled the fuel tank with diesel. The battery needed to be charged, and this was carried out overnight. I have a gardener who, on his inaugural visit today, spent eight hours manicuring both the front rockery and the back lawn and hedges. I am both delighted and relieved!

It’s 20.43 hrs now. Outside it is a lovely late spring evening which would be most respectable at the height of summer. I shall take a stroll.

Incidentally, I have investigated on Google why I cannot upload pictures which I would dearly love to include with my writings. Yes, there is a rational explanation which right now, is incomprehensible. The change in the website back in February has not improved things!

With all good wishes, David 20.48 hrs.