Guest

Do you remember where we walked today? As pre-arranged, we met in the little car park just behind Hathersage Church where we each donned our walking boots. Both of us were a little stand-offish at first. I guess that was inevitable as previously we had only ever met each other here in the blogosphere.

I told you that Charlotte Bronte had once stayed in the vicarage adjacent to the churchyard and then we walked amongst the tombstones until we came to the grave I particularly wanted to show you - the grave of Little John, Robin Hood's trusty lieutenant. You said, "Wow! Is this for real?"

Some major repairs were happening inside the church so we were not allowed in but that didn't matter too much as the sunny afternoon was already ageing and we had four miles to walk before driving back to Sheffield for R&R and a nice evening meal at Pudding Towers.

Lane up the hill from Camp Green

We walked up the lane through Camp Green, the site of a medieval ringwork castle - probably dating back to the eleventh century. Though the narrow road beyond there isn't especially steep, the hill is remorseless. Up, up you go. You said "Oh dear, may we stop for a rest?" And because you were my guest, I assented.

Rather than following the farm track to Carr Head we took the woodland path towards Toothill Farm where assorted cows with calves were meandering. I reassured you that they would not trample us to death. Still rising, we made it to Carr Head Lane which runs more or less flat to The Dale.

Arriving at Carr Head Lane

We could see the southern end of Stanage Edge with Overstones Farm in its lee and I told you that I had photographed it numerous times. I thought you yawned with boredom but you said you were just tired after your long journey to Hathersage.

Overstones Farm and Stanage Edge

"What's that?" you gasped as you spotted Higger Tor way above Callow Farm that was for very many years in ruins but is now pretty much rebuilt to make someone a special Peak District home. And I told you about Iron Age hillforts.

Higger Tor above Callow Farm

We descended to the old footbridge by Mitchell Field Farm before rising up the opposite bank and rambling on through open fields  to Scraperlow Farm. By this time we were relaxed in each other's company and I sung you a song by Donovan Leitch, its title being "Catch The Wind" and you shared two of your deepest secrets with me - things you had never told anyone before. I promised not to tell another soul.

Scraperlow

Through majestic beech trees our path took us by a  silvery stream and down the hill to Sheffield Road. Just a little further, passing "The Scotsman's Pack" and up the steep lane to St Michael's Church and the car park where Butch the Juke was waiting for us.

You said, "I'm completely bushed!"

And I laughed before driving you back to Sheffield for lasagne with salad and a cold glass of sauvignon blanc. With humble apologies, you were early to bed and after you had gone up, Shirley said you were "very nice".  Your dinnertime tales were very amusing.

From this computer keyboard, I can hear you sleeping in our front bedroom right now. Not raucous snoring but deep, contented breathing. Tomorrow we will be out again. It is a toss up between Chatsworth House or a tour of Sheffield city centre. We will see how you feel in the morning.

Another view of Higger Tor with a drystone wall in the foreground