Walking the. Peaks

Writing this from Gatwick as we wait for our plane to Seville... I'm always behind with my blog, but here we go! This is a long post so make sure you go down to the end!

We usually walk the Dark Peaks but this year have spent more time in the White Peaks...Ashford in the Water, Monsel Dale, Hartington and a visit to my old stamping ground Manor Castle.

When I grew up on 'The Manor' the castle was just a ruin.  We all knew Mary Queen of Scots had been imprisoned there and there were rumours of secret tunnels (now proved to be true).  It was well out of bounds for me but we would set off on our bikes with apple sandwiches (I know disgusting but we liked them!).

We were terrified of the ghosts and of our parents finding out we had been there so really we cycled there ran around crazily and then cycled madly home again - so good that it has been restored!

We went with our friends Maria and John who kindly helped us to to tidy up the family graves which are in the nearby cemetery and then we cheered ourselves up by going to a fabulous pub.  The Travellers at Appleknowle that has the most wonderful choice of cheeses!  YaY!

Another cheesy experience was Hartington.  Thanks Mark for recommending it. A bit of a rainy day but the cheese shop is famous around the world - rightly so.... We bought delicious stilton.. Yum! See Roger's history notes!

Chatting with the owner of the shop she picked my Australian (?) accent and told me she was off to visit her son in Brisbane next week.

Ashford in the Water is a typical Derbyshire village, one of our favourite places especially for Well Dressing in July which we will miss this year.  I'm sure I have written about it previously in the blog.

In 926 the village was known as Aescforda and means ford where ash trees grow.  In the late 17th Century 'in-the-water' was added to highlight its closeness to the meanders of the river Wye.

In the Doomsday book in 1068, Ashford was named as one of the places where lead was mined, by 1786 it had mills for carving and polishing local black marble and by 1848 it had 950 inhabitants.

The village passed to the all powerful Cavendish family in the 16th century and was finally sold to pay off death duties in the 1950s.

Today it is the start of our 10Km walk to Monsel Dale.

Another of our favourite walks is part of the Monsel Trail.  Up past the cows, over the many stiles to the viaduct which is a part of the Monsel Trail, which we are not walking today.  The viaduct was built by the Midland railway over the river Wye to the disgust of many who believed it destroyed the beauty of the dale. Today it's Grade 11 listed and a hugely popular tourist spot.

Once we had climbed to the top of the dale we then clambered down to the river and followed its bends and weirs until we came within 1 km of Ashford once more, BUT disaster struck as the path had been washed away by the rains... a more treacherous kilometre of walking I can't remember.  Clinging to trees as I edged my way through the mud was not how I envisaged the walk.

A restorative glass of bubbles was required at the Bull's Head in Ashford!

How fabulous to meet up with Steve Fuger one of our most popular writers

Had a fabulous Beanschat with Steve Fuger, who lives in the charming village of Wensley in Derbyshire.  Watch out for her stories and video which I'll post on our website spillthebeans.net.au

New challenge out today I wonder what 'Farewell' stories and poems we will get on line!

Family pic from the fifties.

 Here we are Christine and me in the front with my Auntie Jean, my mum and grandma Lester.  Happy days!

The Queens Head is buzzing!

Sunday lunch at the Queens Head!  Roast dinners all around.  Great to catch up with everyone and hear all the news.  Met our new great-nephew and Katy's husband Liam.  Amazed at how Jessica and Conner have grown and swapped stories with Laura, Katy and Paul.  Missed seeing Lizzie and her family - next time!

Also caught up with my cousin Christine and her husband Richard. We are only three weeks apart in age so we were like sisters when we were kids. So much to catch up on!

 

Why Winster?

The weather was not cooperating so what to do?  I know, 'let's visit the nearest National Trust property.'  This turned out to be "The Market House" in the lovely village of Winster, Derbyshire.  Winster is set in a valley with 12th century origins based on lead mining and farming.  Permission to hold weekly markets was tightly regulated by the Lord of the Manor, in this case the Earl of Massereene, Anthony Eyre.  The Market House was constructed in 1570 as an elevated one floor structure made of rough blocks of local limestone.  A second floor was added later in the 17th century and is now an information centre.  The National Trust purchased the building in 1906 for fifty pounds, its first acquisition! The building has been extensively repaired by the Manners family (8th Duke of Rutland) of Haddon Hall.  The Manners family have connections to the Dukes of Devonshire (Cavendish) of Chatsworth fame and indirectly "wrong side of the blanket" to Margaret Thatcher, snigger snigger!

Love how different Roger's posts are to mine!  You can understand why I love travelling with him.  Its like having your own enthusiastic personal guide!

Our short journey started with typical Derbyshire weather - cool and misty but brightened later so we could explore. I loved Winster especially the houses which were squeezed in higgledy-piggledy at all different angles. Some were grand and eloquent while some were small and simple, but they were all so solid!  The houses seemed to say 'We've been here for generations and here we're staying'.  Each house had their own special plaque.

Winston had come to fame and wealth through lead mining, but had suffered the fate of other villages losing its local shop.  The residents were determined and together bought the shop and post office. It was vibrant with local products.  Its worth zooming in to the shop window to see all the clubs and regular events they have.  My kind of village.

The Market House was interesting as it had a history and model of the town,  along with photos of the school, headmasters and pupils.  'Spare the rod and spoil the child' seemed to be the motto, with a thrashing each morning being part of the routine!

Bring back the good old days! 

 

Was it 1961 that we sang in the school choir?

Every year when we come back to Yorkshire we catch up witth our friends Maria and John. Maria and I both went to Notre Dame High School.  (They took down the sign 'For Young Ladies' the year we went!)

While weren't in the same class, my memory is that we sang in the choir and to my chagrin we were always the angels in the Christmas play. 

Our teenage years involved all sorts of wild adventures, including hitching around Northern England.  Here I think we are around 16 or 17 years old!

Over the years we have shared much including bushwalking in Oz, hiking through Derbyshire and horse riding in Colorado. Maria and I have sung at the Royal Albert Hall and Roger and John have played golf around the world. 

Many great memories and meals shared.

 Looking forward to seeing you both in Oz!

Rippin' it in Rippon!

OMG! are we safe to be let out alone? We set off confidently to visit Roger's brother Mike and his wife Jane and our niece Becca in their new house in Ripon.  We are both driving like learner drivers as we haven't driven a manual car for years!  Cars beep as we stutter at every roundabout - left foot down I keep telling myself as car horns blare.

The trip should have taken about two and a half hours but half an hour into the trip our internet dropped out and Google maps disappeared.  We have had constant problems with the internet.  We usually buy a sim card for each country but this time we bought an ESim - big mistake!

So we discover life without phone or internet. We call into a petrol station and ask if they have a map book.  They look at us blankly and ask why don't you google it? Arghhh!  

Finally we pull into a really posh restaurant and ask for directions.  One of the waiters hands us his phone to call Mike and Jane.  As I take it from him it dies!  EEK! A second waiter sees what has happened , laughs and hands me his phone.  Nervously I take it and YaY! I get through. 

 

Half an hour later we arrive to a warm welcome and delicious lunch!  It only took us four hours.

Now who else do you know who owns a house complete with embankment and railway tunnel?

Great to see them all again!

On a high in Buxton

Okay there are so many reasons why I love coming back to Derbyshire.  Dry stone walls  covered in rich, green moss; winding roads overhung with trees; the expanse and loneliness of the moors; the peaks and of course market towns like Buxton.  We are staying 8km from this historic town,  It's the highest market town in the Peak District and the coldest place in England!  Its mineral waters have been famous since Roman times.  They called the place Aquae Arnemetise.  After the Romans left, the baths fell into neglect but they were rebuilt in the 16th century and came into their own in the Edwardian period when it became fashionable and the Opera House,  Palace Hotel and Pavilion Gardens were established.

As a child we spent most weekends walking in Derbyshire.  A clever device by our parents to save on heating bills and to wear us out! The whole family would clamber onto the bus ready for an adventure.  We didn't have a car and so Buxton was a rare treat as the bus service was tricky  It was the last stop for a Sheffield bus - Manchester next! One rucksack was packed and we took turns to carry it.  I think I lasted five proud minutes.

After climbing the peaks we would tuck into a packed lunch.  I seem to remember tinned sardines and boiled eggs packed in brown paper bags. Mum would bring a thermos of tea and we would top up with hot water from a local cafe and have a 'mash up'!  On one occasion my brother left our lunches behind and so mum went to a cafe and asked if we washed the dishes could we eat for free ... and we did!  Ha! Ha! We thought it a great adventure even though we always quarrelled about washing up at home.  Couldn't do it today.

Then it was always a rush for the bus home.  If we missed it there was a two hour wait OR horror of horrors what would we do if the last bus home had gone! It certainly made those tired legs move.

Lovely memories!

Hello Taddington, Derbyshire

The drive up was really easy.  Far less traffic and fewer European trucks on the road.   We leave the motorway and negotiate the winding roads, waves of memories and nostalgia overwhelm us.  Beautiful stone walls, expanses of green dotted with sheep and finally the signpost into Taddington.  There could not be a greater contrast to the busy streets of Hanoi.

As we turn into the village, Martina and Dean leap up and wave their arms in a warm welcome.  

After a tour of the cottage which is so quirky and gorgeous we sit down to a delicious meal of lasagna, salad and French wines.  Martina and Dean are such fun.  I hope they enjoy Oz!

It was so good to walk through the village with them and to 'get to know' the characters living there.  In this cottage there are a couple from Hong Kong who are here because they want their child to be born in UK and to have a British passport.  Here is a pilot who now flies from Manchester rather than Heathrow.  He's in Peru at the moment. We chat with the guy who mows the grass at the church... he had racehorses in London but now lives here and is gradually renovating and selling houses in the village...

A couple of days later how impressed is my cousin when we stroll though the village and I point out all the different characters.  How long have you lived here?  Oh two days I say airily!

The war memorial is interesting.  So sad that so many brothers enlisted together. We were reading their names when we saw that most of their surnames were Mycock.  Unfortunately if your initial is C or even G but in Derbyshire where 'E' is a statement of surprise 'E Mycock could be difficult!

Leaving Hanoi

My oh my!  Six am its raining and for the first time the street is quiet. To our relief our cab is waiting but when we go to leave we realise that we are locked in!  There is a gate  at the end of the passageway, previously unseen by us, that is closed and locked.  Luckily we. had left the keys in a keybox and so we sprinted up the stairs to get them...hoping that the second key would work.  A few tricky moments and finally we were free and on our way.

The rain poured down and the roads were starting to flood but we ploughed through.

The airport was bliss... Breakfast in the business lounge and then a shower before our flight took off.   

Champagne as soon as we boarded and great meals.  Full length beds BUT sleeping was impossible as we had a four year old in front of us who raced screaming at the top of his voice up and down the aisles throughout the twelve hour flight.

The mother just ignored him even when when the flight attendants asked her to control him!

Finally grogilly we arrived in London and booked into our airport hotel... hoping for a good nights sleep before picking up our car and making the 5hr drive to Derbyshire .

Ha Long Bay

A two hour trip from Hanoi complete with the stop for morning tea at the compulsory tourist trap!  Couldn't believe what people were buying!!  So hot we were grateful for a spot of air con though!

We drifted through the islands while the staff served us with seafood, salads, sweet potatoes, calamari and much much more.  Indian woman opposite us quite strange... I think she took at least 100 selfies while we were on the boat.... not the scenery just her face.  Mmmm maybe that's normal and I'm being judgy!!

Spectacular scenery

Amazing boat trip and the walk through the caves incredible.  Roger and I tried to do some sketching ha ha... a total disaster as the boats kept swinging on their anchors ruining any chance we had of having a view for more than a few seconds at a time!

Tourists, Torrents and Typhoons

 

A relaxing walk around the lake is what we need.  Ah it's Hanoi 2024! We last visited 24 years ago!  The war was still fresh in everyone's mind and while most people were welcoming there was often more than a flash of suspicion from others. I remember the walk around the lake being a peaceful experience.  Not today!

It was a tourist trap of swarming fan sellers! It was still beautiful if a little ravaged from the very recent typhoon,  Fallen trees everywhere and muddy lake waters, teeming with fish.

We cooled down with a gin and tonic and half an hour of people watching.  The best entertainment ever!

We were so lucky to make this trip... the airport only opened the day before we arrived and the evidence of  the typhoon everywhere.  We weren't sure if the road would be opened to travel to Ha Long Bay but hey, it was, and the sun shone.

It was sad on the journey up to the Bay to see how hard some communities had been hit.  Mainly poor farmers had lost their shacks, although houses had lost their roofs, huge advertising billboards had been toppled and some bridges damaged. 

The army and teams of young people were starting to saw the fallen trees and collect the debris. Trucks trawled the streets hauling the huge trees and branches away from the crowded streets. 

And so finally to Ha Long Bay!

Ready, set, cook!

On my early morning walk while dodging scooters, bikes, cars, buses, traders and dazed tourists I see a sign for cooking lessons.  Mmm sounds relaxing and fun.  So, the next morning we meet Song a vibrant Vietnamese woman with a great welcoming smile and a quirky sense of humour.

We expect to don aprons and to get cooking but no.... first stop is to buy the ingredients at the local market!

What an amazing experience, not only did we find out about the food, the people selling them but also all the questions about living in Hanoi that we had always wanted to ask.

So slice in the excitement of the market where the occasional fish escaped to be chased down the road and flopped back into the bucket with the bonus of having someone explain the what was going on around us and we were in travel heaven!

Pigs trotters, moon cakes, fresh noodles, tofu, fish, prawns, octopus, pork, beef, chicken, jack fruit ... and much, more!  YaY! Life is good!

Back at the restaurant the ingredients have been set out and it really is time to don the aprons.  What fun, chopping ingredients, swapping stories about our families and of course learning much more about life in Hanoi!

Chill!

First day! We expected torrential rain but YaY it was warm and cloudy. At 6.00 am, the busy street of the night before has a different buzz. Motorcycles are unloaded and fresh vegetables and fruit arranged in between parked motorbikes. Women cluster and chat while farmers peel fresh corn or tumble fresh herbs and greens into plastic bags. YES everything has to go in a plastic bag! 

Women pop out of alleyways to start the day with their tai chi. Motorcycles glide to a halt the women pointing to their choice of vegetables for the day before roaring up the street - skilfully avoiding traders wearing the traditional no la, conical hats carrying huge baskets full of melons or jackfruit strung from a shoulder pole . Below us a young woman butchers and weighs pork and beef. Shops begin to roll up their shutters to reveal rolls of materials, zips, cottons and yawning owners. 

Figures hunch over small cooking fires brought alive by the gentle flapping of a handful of small leaves. People arrive on foot and motorbike to sit on small plastic stools to eat steaming bowls of chicken noodle soup served from large bubbling cauldrons. 

For us though a quiet relaxing day was on the cards, starting with breakfast at the air conditioned, Little Charm Hotel, two doors down from us. Cheese omelettes, French baguette and coffee. Coffee was a little tricky – brown or black? Mmmm?. We later found out that brown was coffee with condensed milk. I finally succeeded in ordering black coffee with cold milk… not ice… not egg…just coffee with cold milk!

While we were at the hotel, we booked in a tour of Halong Bay. Something we wanted to do years ago when we visited but ran out of time. This time also looks unlikely as the roads are still flooded but we’ll see what happens. 

A quick relax on the verandah where we are entertained by the ever-changing street life. Gradually tourists mingle with the locals, leaping in alarm as a bike, bus or car beeps its way down the narrow street. 

Then it’s time for a massage and facial. Glancing from our front door we see six spas, all with young girls calling out an eager ‘welcome’ but whose eyes drift back to their mobile phones the moment we say, ‘no thank you!’ We choose the one directly across the road and it is FANTASTIC! An hour later we feel refreshed and ready to explore!

By this time it is 4.00am Australian time (1.00 am Vietnamese) and the the street is buzzing. The daily life of the street is something I will grow to love but right now feels more than overwhelming. Our driver strides off and points to the sign - 34. No no we say. We want number 38! He nods and beckons us. 

We push past the motorcycles, people squatting on small stools eating street food, friendly girls waving us in to have a massage. He points to a small, dark passageway with no number... What have we got ourselves into now? 

 Finally we find a small alley and we are in! 

 I love stepping over a new threshold and even though we are tired this is no different. We lean over the balcony taking in all the sights and sounds before we tumble into bed for a great nights sleep... well four hours anyway! The next morning things look bright and the street has a completely different feel. Time for a breakfast, walk and massage!

Welcome to Hanoi

We left home not knowing if we would fly to Hanoi or to Saigon or not at all! A couple of days before we left we watched footage of the typboon and started to plan... but in the end our flight left on time and we settled in to relax and enjoy.

We had booked an air BnB apartment in the centre of Hanoi.  Our hosts had warned about taking cabs from the airport and so the owner had organised a pick up.  But where were they?  Nothing on our phones worked -  not even WhatsApp!  Arghh!  After a 9 hour flight and an hour of waiting we had had enough! So I approached a taxi... how much....the haggle began. He saw we knew how much we should pay.  Okay, okay I take you.  Price good!

In the cab we chilled.  That is until we saw the water!  As we drove through a wall of water rose up either side of the car.  Mmmm at least there wasn't much traffic around!

The driver set off confidently ignoring the flood, texting and talking continuously as he drove. After about 40 minutes I started to feel more than a little worried. I thought it was only 20 minutes away, I whispered to Roger. Why I whispered I don't know as his only English was Okay, Okay! He stopped, looked round, did a U turn and then pulled into a dark street and we waited. My nervousness increasing by the second.    What was happening? Out of the darkness a woman with a plastic slice of watermelon on her head appeared.  She thrust some money into his hand and he handed her a plastic bag.

'How far to Hoan Kiem? I asked hopelessly as we headed back down the road and past the airport once more.  .  Big smiles and nod of the head. We had been travelling for an hour and a half now. Plan B was coming to mind.  'Look tell him to stop at the next well lit place and we'll leap out and go to a European looking hotel'

'What about our luggage'. 

'I don't care! Let's do it.' 

We swing around the corner somehow avoiding fallen trees, people, motor bikes and street vendors and I see the sign.  'Hoan Kiem' it says.  YaY! We are here.  Our lovely driver no longer an evil hijackerleaps out of the car to get our luggage.

He beams and   Where is no 38 he asks.  As we peer around the motor cycles, street vendors and Spa Massage joints we can see 36 but no 38.  He whips out his phone and gives it to us we talk to the owner and then down an alleyway we reach our lovely apartment

Off to Hanoi again....or are we?

More than the usual frantic scramble to leave.  Editing and sending book 6 off to print...Always a trauma! Getting our first sponsored challenge ready to launch in October! Preparing our apartment for a home exchange with a fabulous couple Martina and Dean from Manchester, who are lending us their gorgeous cottage in Taddington, Derbyshire.  Trying to tee up meet ups with friends and family in 3 different countries and emergency trips to dentist (cracked teeth) for both of us! No we didn't fight!

The day before we left was also the funeral of my lovely friend Branka. Oh how I will miss our Monday meet ups full of laughter, music, dancing, writing and crazy stories.

The stress levels rose when a typhoon hit Hanoi.  The airport was closed and we were unsure if we would be able to fly, but suddenly we were on our way ... Vietnam here we come...

While we are travelling, keep in touch via WhatsApp or Skype... email is a bit dodgy!