|The Plague Window in Eyam parish church|
Yesterday, Shirley and I walked from the Derbyshire village of Foolow to Eyam and back again. Eyam is famously known as The Plague Village. In the mid-1660's, under the guidance of The Reverend William Mompesson, the Peak District village put itself into quarantine after the bubonic plague had arrived there from London in a roll of cloth that contained infectious fleas.
An estimated 260 villagers succumbed to The Plague in fourteen months but surrounding communities were unaffected. The self-imposed quarantine was a brave communal act of selflessness.
|Cottage garden in Eyam|
It was a hot day. The walk between the two villages took just under an hour. After calling in at the parish church, we sauntered along to The Miners Arms for drinks and food. I ordered a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich with a pint of bitter shandy while Shirley had a glass of soda water, carrot and coriander soup and a ham sandwich. This feast was consumed at a shady bench in front of the old pub.
|On Tideswell Lane|
Then we walked back with the summery temperature now soaring delightfully. How wonderful it was to walk out in shorts and T shirts with unidentified butterflies dancing in the ungrazed meadows of Linen Dale. Along an ancient byway beside crisscrossed limestone walls from behind which sweltering sheep and cattle observed our trek.
|Five spot burnet moth in Linen Dale|
The walk was in actuality a test as we continue to think about a communal wedding walk the day after Frances marries Stew. People who have never been to this part of the world will be at the wedding and a ramble to The Plague Village with a late Sunday lunch in The Miners Arms might be something they would always remember with affection.
|Sheep with Bretton Mount beyond|