The original purpose of this blog was to record our adventures on our travels, as we set off for South Africa just over 15 years ago. It was daunting, even though we had already had the first mid life drop out some 3 years earlier and taken off for Australia and New Zealand. The focus of our trip was the Ashes tour of Australia, but it was motivated as a means to mark a landmark wedding anniversary. We always try to mark the 5 year cycle with something a bit more out the ordinary, although I doubt if one will ever get close to staring into the eyes of that rhino in the Hluhluwe Umfolozi National Park on a sunny June day outside St Lucia, Natal. The pandemic meant the ambition was somewhat muted this year and with escalating rates yet again in the UK, it meant staying close to home was probably the best option. We are both double jabbed, but the only guarantee that seems to give is that you wont see the inside of an intensive care hospital ward. The consensus of opinion is still on the side of you can catch COVID, even with the vaccine inside
you. Caution is the watchword. We set off for a daytrip into deepest Derbyshire. We had no thoughts of seeing a rhino!
Derbyshire is much maligned in Nottingham and Nottinghamshire, but that is largely motivated by the influence of football. It is truly a scenic County to have almost on your doorstep, although the scenic beauty serves to mask the industrial heritage. The first port of call was Wirksworth. Today, across as a small town, ideal from Derby with a taste for the countryside. The reality is that Wirksworth has been around since Doomsday Book times and was once a centre for lead mining. Henry VIII granted a charter allowing mining basically anywhere except in the roadways, gardens or the churchyard. Lead mines proliferated and a miners court was established to govern the local trade. The penalty for stealing from a mine or claim was to have your hand nailed to a winch - effectively giving you the option of ripping your hand trying to get free or to starve to death. The town grew rich on the proceeds of the mines and that is reflected in the Town Hall. A fine gothic building, somehow
grander than you think you would find locally, it now acts as the Heritage Centre. We parked up and wandered through the gates, that separated the main street from the The town rises high above into the surrounding hills and we ventured up one of the lanes for the view. The cottages pack in either side of the narrow road. Alleyways led off both sides, revealing more cottages. What struck us was the size of the front doors. The former homes of little people. A car came up the hill towards us. The engine sounded as though it was having a hard time. The next vehicle was a parcel delivery van. In a time of lockdowns and self isolation, the parcel delivery business has boomed. I felt for the guy on this round - there were no easy places to turn the van around up here. I bet he knew he had done a days work, after his 130 parcels. In the middle of summer, it was difficult enough with decent weather. I wonder what happens when you add a bit of snow into the mix! I started this blog with a tale of a rhino and it
seems we were in rhino country in Wirksworth after all. I see bones from a woolly mammoth were found by lead miners in 1822. We were in the right place then - just a bit late. We had a very agreeable latte outdoors in the Market Place and retrieved the car.
We moved on to Back Rocks, a mere mile or so out of town towards Cromford. As it sounds, the Black Rocks is a large outcrop of dark rock on the escarpment overlooking Cromford. Black ... perhaps not, but certainly darker than the limestone country surrounding it. There was space on the road just outside the car park, so the ticket machines were going under employed. I didnt actually check, but the cash parking meter is a bit of a problem these days.
