Confusion

The screenshot above is taken from drone footage by Derbyshire Police. The scene is Curbar Edge  where I have often walked. The film sought to shame several members of the public who were simply out in the sunshine enjoying country walks. As with the targeted fellow above they were all practising social-distancing.

During The Plague, government guidelines say that we can leave our homes to shop for food, visit a pharmacy or medical centre and we can also exercise once a day. 

When the guidance first emerged I tried like crazy to clarify the vague guidance about exercise. Could I, for example, travel in my Clintmobile to a remote country location and then get out for a walk? Common sense said that I wouldn't be causing anybody any harm and there'd be  far less chance of infection than say walking down to our local park.

That clarification proved impossible but it seems that Derbyshire Police have placed their own interpretation on the guidance. Their reading is that you cannot  drive into The Peak District for a walk. You can cycle or ride a horse but you cannot drive. They have even been pulling cars over to question drivers and reinforce their interpretation.

The drone footage has caused controversy and further mixed responses have since emerged from government spokespeople. To me it seems that there's an element of petty vindictiveness in all of this. It's as if to say - you are not allowed to have pleasure during The Plague. Why should you be strolling happily on country paths when people are dying? Stay home and suffer like the rest of us!

What does "local" mean anyway? As in "exercise locally"? Is "local" my street, my district, my city, my county, my region? I don't understand.

Last Sunday I drove for an hour to Wirksworth in mid-Derbyshire. I blogged about that day here. During The Plague I was hoping to have a few more days like that but now I have been forced to think again. Big Brother may be watching me and of course nowadays the cops can find out where you live simply by running your car registration number through their computer system.

I will be taking more walks but I'll be choosing my parking locations carefully. By simply parking in a village I believe that I will be thwarting Big Brother. I wonder if the authorities will soon be cranking up their enforcement procedures.

JUDGE We find you guilty of parking in the countryside and going for a walk. Before I send you down is there anything you want to say?
YORKSHIRE PUDDING Yes your honour. I saw a stag by Redcar Brook grazing in the adjacent meadow. He was unaware of my presence and I watched him for ten minutes or more as the brook babbled by. And once I was alone at The Horse Stone with snow all about me and not another soul for miles around. And I am so very, very sorry for my heinous crime against humanity your honour, for donning my boots and walking through the heather, for following my map along unknown paths, for daring to walk in peace during The Plague. I admit it, I am a dirty no-good felon and I deserve to have the full weight of The Law pressed down upon me.

JUDGE Take him down!

Update

Cilla Black (1943 - 2015)
What's it all about Alfie?

Here's a list of five countries that you will have heard of. I have put them in rank order according to their populations with Bolivia at the top and and Portugal at the bottom. The population of Bolivia is 11.6 million while the population of Portugal is 10.2 million. Hence:-

Bolivia

Cuba

Czech Republic

Greece

Portugal

Are you with me so far?

Now, do you mind terribly if we go back to February 4th of this year? On that day I announced on this humble Yorkshire blog that the population of Earth was 7,762,009,632.

Now, just 53 days later, the population of Earth stands at:-

7,773,852,630

That means that our world's population has risen by 11,842,998 in less than two months. More than the population of Bolivia or Cuba or The Czech Republic or Greece or Portugal. 11.8 million extra people. The 26,826 coronavirus death tally to date  is utterly dwarfed by this population increase.  It makes you think. Well, it certainly makes me think anyway.

As Cilla Black once sang, "What's it all about Alfie?"

Nostalgia

It seems like only yesterday. I close my eyes and I am back there in that other world - the world we knew before.

Back then we had pubs. They were gathering places for local communities. You drank beer. You laughed. You chatted for hours about this and that - things that mattered and things that didn't matter. Sometimes you would look up at the TV sets where live sports were forever being screened. All gone now - rugby, cricket, football and golf. It was the way of the world. And boxing and tennis.

When you met people you shook their hands or hugged them, You got up close - not like today when you keep your distance. Back in 2020 they said two metres and that is how it has stayed.

We used to enjoy cheap flights and if you had the desire to do it you could go just about anywhere you wanted. The world was your oyster as they say. From Sri Lanka to San Francisco. From New Zealand to New Orleans. It's different now. Nobody goes anywhere much.

In those days gone by the living was simple. It was vibrant and there was hope. You could realise your dreams. Big dreams or small dreams. Most of all, I remember the freedom. We went here and we went there. Nobody stopped you. Nobody questioned you. There were no pass books, no phone numbers for whistleblowers, no rubber stamping. We were free.

But of course that was then and this is now. The dead lie in their graves.  Perhaps we will never get back to where we once resided. To those innocent days of yore.

Details

Eye of a horse at Totley Bents

Once again, I undertook my familiar circular walk on the edge of the city. It involves parking Clint  at the end of  Shorts Lane, Normally, the circuit takes an hour. I have blogged about this walk before. Go here and here.

With boots on, I slammed the tailgate.

"Ouch!" snarled Clint. "That bloody hurt! Why can't you shut it more gently?"

"Go to hell!" I retorted. "You're only a car! And besides how come you talk in English when you were born and raised in South Korea?"

"꺼져 " said my charming silver machine.

And so I set off on another diamond day. For some reason, I  decided that any photographs taken would show small details of what was observed along the way. After a hundred yards I was wishing I had left my fleece jacket inside the obstreperous vehicle. Pleasantly warm.

I talked to a woman with three English pointer dogs and another woman I have spoken with before at Totley Bents. She was gardening and I said, "I'm sorry I haven't got a handbell!"

"What do you mean?"

"Then I could ring it and shout Unclean! Unclean!"

She laughed and made a cross with her hands.

Because I was dithering about with the camera, procrastinating like a donkey, it took me longer than usual to get back to The Clintotron. He was snoozing under the sycamores. I made sure that I closed his tailgate gently. He is booked in for his annual service and Ministry of Transport roadworthiness test tomorrow morning. Poor thing! He hates having his oil drained. Wouldn't you if you were a car?

At the weir on Redcar Brook

Bumble bee on gorse

Skull

I found the skull of a young sheep on the moors above the reservoirs at Redmires. I placed it on a rock where a clump of heather was newly sprouting. It seemed like an appropriate symbol for what is happening all over the planet  right now. People dying.

Construction of the reservoirs began in 1833 after another epidemic. Cholera swept through the booming industrial city of Sheffield in 1832 killing 402 unfortunate citizens. Creating a clean, reliable water supply became an urgent priority.

Overlooking the three  reservoirs is this carved marker stone. I am surprised that I missed it on previous rambles in the area. Shirley and I walked by it on Monday afternoon. It was her birthday and the day was beautiful apart from that horrible phantom with which we are all now painfully familiar. "S.W.W." stands for Sheffield Water Works.

Heading up to a rocky area of the moor known as White Stones I saw this crustone lichen clinging to the west face of a large boulder. Lord knows how long it has been growing there, year upon year, millimetre after millimetre.

I took a photograph of the upper dam that separates the top reservoir from the middle one. See how it curls in an "S" shape.

Shirley enjoyed her birthday walk in the sunshine with a breeze blowing over the moors and meadow pipits bobbing about the heather exchanging their sweet songs. We went home knowing that we would be unable to go out for the customary birthday meal. Instead, I ordered takeaway meals from "The Greedy Greek" delicatessen at Hunters Bar.

The owner asked me to wait outside. He brought the chicken souvlaki meals out to the street tables in white plastic bags and insisted that I paid with a contactless card. That's the pandemic for you. I said "efharisto" and he smiled, replying "parakalo" which means - you're welcome!

Co-incidentally Monday was also Jennifer's birthday over at "Sparrow Tree Journal". Bless her and bless us all. Let's hope that when Shirley and Jennifer are another year older this thing that is amongst us will have been returned to its cage.

Antidote

I am not sure if you heard the news but it seems that there is a pesky virus flying around just now. Fortunately, I spotted an antidote for it in our "Lidl" supermarket so I bought a whole box of the stuff. Being fluent in Spanish I was able to translate the words on the box; "La cerveza mas fina" which means - guaranteed to kill the virus dead.

The box contained twelve bottles of the antidote. You can see that I bought the "Extra" variety for a supplementary boost. Corona Extra Antidote is the colour of piss and tastes like it too but who cares? I drank all twelve bottles in quick succession and (hic!) I'm now tozzally immna..imo...imoon (hic!)

If only it was that easy.

Alderwasley

Sunday was a gorgeous day. Spring was in the air and after an initial milkiness the sky above turned sapphire blue. Winter had crept back into its lair - at least for the time being.

With Clint's kind agreement, I headed south out of the city to Baslow and then on through Chatsworth Park, Rowsley and Darley Dale to Matlock. Through Matlock Bath and Cromford before filtering left along  narrow country lanes  that brought me eventually to the small upland village of Alderwasley.

I had never been there before and as I tied my boots I was looking forward to circumnavigating the district. There's nothing I like more than exploring unknown territory,

"You can't park here I tell ya ya daft oaf!" protested Clint.

I had parked in the little village hall car park that I had spotted on Streetview and chose to ignore the sign that said "Village Hall and Cemetery Parking Only". The lanes are so tight in Alderwasley that there seemed to be no alternative.

"Be it on your own head then!"  sneered Clint who has been rather tetchy recently because he needs his annual service.

Hay Lane

And so I set off on that crisp spring morning with hardly anybody else about though I did encounter a couple of other walkers in nearby Long Wood. They kept their distance as if  I might be the carrier of something worse than leprosy. "Good morning!" I  smiled as they withdrew into the undergrowth with pained expressions, as if they had seen a ghost. Perhaps I am a ghost. Casper The Friendly Ghost.

Senior couple admiring the view of Wirksworth

Half the walk was through fields and woods and the other half was on lanes like Breamfield Lane where a couple of senior citizens  were sitting on a bench enjoying the view of Wirksworth in the valley below. I also walked along a byway that would surely be popular with most female blog visitors and some male ones too - Knob Lane.

At Netherpark Farm on Jackass Lane (no kidding!)

Bumble bee on dandelions

You don't need any more details about my solitary ramble than that. In case you were wondering, there was no note or parking ticket on Clint's windscreen (American: windshield) when I returned to my faithful jalopy.

Driving home via Matlock Bath, I noticed that a couple of hundred motorcyclists had gathered there as they often do on sunny Sundays. Some were eating fish and chips but mostly they were just hanging out, no doubt chatting about the things that motorcyclists usually chat about - horse power, oil, tyres, leather jackets, car drivers and fatal accidents. There was no "self-isolation" going on that I could see. Perhaps I just dreamt about a pandemic. 

Yes that's it. It was just a bad dream.

Procrastinating Donkey - for Jenny