We were away this weekend for the wedding of some old friends. They had the rather wonderful idea of hiring Hargate Hall for the ceremony, the meal, the Ceilidh and accommodation. In a typically generous fashion they thought of everything to ensure that everyone had a fabulous relaxing weekend.
Hargate Hall is near to the marvelously named village of Wormhill, not far from Buxton, on the edge of the Peak District National Park. On the Sunday morning we joined a gaggle of old buddies and their kids for a short stroll. It was quite gloomy when we set off, but fortunately it soon brightened up.
You might notice, on the left of the picture, that B is waving around a stick as is his wont. It’s dangerous enough at the best of times, but he’d been using this one to poke sloppy cowpats….the proverbial shitty stick.
Later, a more select band managed to escape for a slightly longer meander down to Chee Dale and back by Monk’s Dale and Peter Dale.
We stood on a footbridge over the Wye watching Mallards and a pair of dippers for quite some time. You can see how clear the water was. We were puzzled by a number of golf balls on the river bed. Down river we saw a couple of large fish holding in the current.
A tiny village where Monk’s Dale meets Chee Dale (which then becomes Miller’s Dale), not named on my OS map, had a proportionally tiny church:
A walk on a bright day at this time of year has the added joy of low-angled light in the afternoon.
Crags in Peter Dale
Last of the Summer Wine
Beating The Bounds 