Moreton-in-Marsh

A Thought for Sunday from John Ruskin, by UGArdener, used under Creative Commons. Click pic for link.

I’ve been reading about Roman roads recently, for no particular reason other than there’s one marked on the map near home. Apparently there’s about a bazillion, going everywhere – if there’s a long, straight stretch of road near you (and you live south of the Union Canal), chances are it was first put there by the Romans, by dint of mad engineering skills, legions of grunts to do the work, and a sheer bloody-mindedness which led them to insist almost exclusive on straight marching routes, hills be damned. It’s given me some respect for the soldier of the day – to march across the country on a regular basis is no mean feat – and renewed my lack of respect for my own fitness by comparison.

One of the best known of the roads is the Fosse Way, which cuts across country from Lincoln (Lindum Colonia) to Exeter (Isca Dumnoniorum). There’s a turn at Ilchester (Lindinis), but between there and Lincoln the road is never more than 6 miles from a perfectly straight line. Considering that it traverses the Mendips and the entire length of the Cotswolds, that’s not bad going. Anyway, Moreton is found on that Fosse Way, in a direct line from Cirencester and Stow on the Wold to Leamington Spa and Leicester, and the long high street reflects that. It’s not a large town, Moreton; it wasn’t really a settlement area (so far as anyone knows) in the Roman times, and was just a stopping point for many years. It grew into a proper town about 800 years ago as a coaching stop, and got a market – it’s now a coach stop tour (£15 for a return to the Tuesday market from Thomas Cook in Stourbridge), its long high street ideal for some pootling, or apparently a cream tea – there are a hundred and one tea shoppes here.

Time was, I’d have been able to get a train here directly. Thanks to *cough* the rationalisation of the last few decades, the journey is far less convenient (and probably less stylish than boarding the Oxford, Worcester and Wolverhampton Railway in my bowler hat and spats); the station remains though, and will take you to Oxford or Worcester on the Cotswold Line. The last time we were here, it was at the tail end of a thoroughly enjoyable couple of days over Spring half-term; we called into Moreton as one of a number of stops on the way home. There was one difference to our previous visit: a pop-up mixed charity shop has now disappeared (it seemed to be sending it’s proceeds towards both Help For Heroes and the Bob Champion Trust), and the permanent charity shops are the only ones that remain.

The remaining shops are pretty good, happily. The largest is undoubtedly Sue Ryder Care, a double shop with a variety of oddments – it’s a particularly esoteric assortment given the somewhat clean-cut and anodyne nature of Sue Ryder shops generally. I tend to prefer a dark hole of a charity shop, a ramshackle, junk-shop feel, to the cleaner, modern, lighter shops; but this is a fine exception. Light and airy, yet full of random nonsense, perfect.

The other charity shops (including Mind, AgeUK and Break) reflect Moreton’s well-heeled population and bucolic setting – lots of nice things, lots worth a poke at. With just the four charity shops, Moreton is unlikely to detain the CSTourist for too long, unless you happen to get lost in the endless, wonderful maze of the Toy Shop, or stay for a cream tea. But it’s definitely worth a pass through, and there’s so many chocolate-box towns with a few places worth visiting around here, that you can easily make a day trip out of it.

Find: Moreton-in-Marsh @ Google Maps
Get there: there’s a dead convenient railway station at the end of the high street, with signs in Japanese for the benefit of the many visitors. Handy.
Consume with: for the most traditional of cream teas, Tilly’s looks like the place to be.
Visit: you could go and have a nosy at Dorn Roman village nearby (doesn’t look like there’s a lot to see).
Overall rating: three hipflasks

Cirencester

Coxwell Street, Cirencester, by Graham_B. Image used under Creative Commons, click pic for link.

If there’s two things that have stuck in your mind from learning the Romans at primary school, I’ll bet it’s that all their roads were straight; and that if a town ends in “chester” or “cester”, then it was Roman. Good old Romans, making things nice and logical for us. Cirencester nicely fulfils the latter, its name a descendent of the Latin Corinium Dobunnorum. The town that’s now Cirencester was established as a fort in the earliest part of the Roman occupation of Britannia, and when the frontier with those crazy Celts moved towards Wales and the fort abandoned by soldiers, the local Dobunni tribe moved in, hence the name – it grew into the second largest city of the province. Approaching Cirencester, you’ll also not fail to see evidence of the roads as well: this was a major junction on the Fosse Way between Exeter and Lincoln, the long, strangely direct road through the Cotswolds (further evidence at Stow, Moreton-in-Marsh and Northleach); at Cirencester it met Akeman Street (between St Albans and Gloucester), and Ermin Street (between Gloucester and Silchester).

So, an important town for a long time, and it has retained this status despite being comparatively small compared to neighbours like Swindon or Gloucester. A quick google for “capital of the Cotswolds” places Cirencester firmly as the main town of this Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, and therefore firmly within the aspirational urbanite dream of bucolic isolation. Let’s be clear here: the Cotswolds are not bucolic isolation in the way the highlands of Scotland, or the Welsh desert are; they’re very much on the trainline into Oxford and London, and you’re more likely to find pink corduroy and David Cameron’s children in the pub than pentagrams and scary locals. Nevertheless, in a reserved, chocolate-box, typified English way, this is a thoroughly picturesque part of Southern England and well worth a riverside stroll or a cream tea stop. Cirencester is the biggest town in the area, but still absolutely full of the local stone, as planning regs insist – charming to some, a bit much for me.

The town centre is dominated by this particular stone, and it’s most notable in the cleaned up medieval church of St John the Baptist, in Market Place. Rather than the rain-softened pale yellow generally found in the Cotswolds, the south porch has been polished to a bright magnolia effect, and really looks quite odd. Each to their own I suppose. This is the centre of town, no doubt: Castle Street broadens into a marketplace, and coaching inns and coffee shops line the facades. Here you’ll find Sue Ryder and an Oxfam bookshop, which is really a very pleasant bookshop. It’s the thoroughfares leading away from town that are the most propitious though. Head West on Castle Street (there’s no castle, not since Henry III) towards the vast Bathhurst Estate and you’ll come across Age UK and Cancer Research in close proximity. The opposite direction takes you into a more modern section of the town centre, or perhaps modernist, as the occasional 1960s precinct appears in an otherwise well-turned out country town. Here you’ll find Cotswold Hospice Care, British Heart Foundation, and Salvation Army. These are somewhat unremarkable shops all, but far from poor; in fact, the Sally Army has turned up Le Creuset cookware before now.

Head South off the marketplace (along yet another picturesque limestoned street, Cricklade) and you really hit the jackpot. In quick succession there’s a Barnado’s (just off the road in the understated Bishop’s Walk arcade), Helen & Douglas House (always worth a visit), British Red Cross, Blue Cross and RSPCA. All fairly worthy charity shops. Worth pointing out here is the back entrance to the market hall – besides the market, this is where the public loos are. Not a particularly interesting fact, until you consider the 20p charge to use the ones in the car park that get the letter-to-the-editor-writer in me grumbling. The market hall itself is a cut through to opposite the church, and is home to some boutiquey shops and a rather nice looking coffee bar.

I’ll be honest: I’m not such a fan of Cotswold architecture as much as I admire, say, the slate austerity of the Lakes, or the dusky red-brick of north Worcestershire. But I know it appeals to many and if that’s you, then Cirencester is a feast of quite lovely and interesting buildings. Quite besides this, there’s plenty to look at and in, and of course a sizable haul of charity shops. It’s been an excellent place to stop on the cross-country route between various parts of my family, and being smack in the heart of these famous undulations, it’s a lovely journey both sides. So Cirencester comes pretty highly recommended.

Find: Cirencester @ Google Maps
Get there: if not by Roman road, then it’ll have to be some other sort of road I’m afraid, unless you’re willing to schlep from Kemble station, four miles hence.
Consume with: there’s all the usual, but I’d like to try that coffee shop in the market arcade.
Visit: I’d suggest either the Corinium museum or the Cotswold Water Park
Overall rating: four straggly balls of wool

Ashbourne

Ashbourne, by John Bennett. Image used under Creative Commons, click image for link.

If I ever found myself in my own, personalised Hell, it would probably be something like the Edinburgh Festival. Large crowds of non-purposefully-walking visitors, lots of people handing me leaflets and (ugh) street performers everywhere, trying to talk to me and trick me into having fun using theatrical whispers and exaggerated movements. Possibly pink tutus and a boombox. I recognise my own misanthropy, but I don’t feel the need to apologise for it: that would be hellish.

Regrettably, we turned up in this Derbyshire Dales town on the second day of the annual Ashbourne Festival, a miniature version of this sort of street art event. And yes, ugh, I didn’t like it. Being on the return leg of a journey to Manchester to see The Boss (I had to get that in), I feel like I know a thing or two about talented performers. Nevertheless, I am strong-willed enough to try and put my prejudices aside and see the town for what it is, and thankfully, what it is is very nice. Reading the Wikipedia article for the town is like reading a 9 year old’s school project; in reality, the town is a cute market town like many others, the central shopping area surrounding a triangular market square. There are many quaint cafes and delis, a market (although this isn’t really worth writing home about) and, of course, plenteous charity shops.

You know you’re in for a competitive afternoon when there are sandwich boards around town pointing you to Mind as the town’s best charity shop. It’s not all that, although not a bad place to start. It competes on St John Street with British Heart Foundation (who need to sack their interior designers stat), and on Buxton Road with Salvation Army and Cancer Research, both of which earn their keep on the main drag. Following the pedestrianised market area around brings you to a large Lighthouse Hospice shop (this time around a welcome relief from some prancing numpties just outside) as well as a monster bakers shop. Yum.

Turn down Dig Street (steering around the be-tutu’d man and the wardens) for a very reasonable selection in Oxfam Books & Music, then towards the new-looking Waitrose where you’ll find Treetops Hospice and AgeUK.

We didn’t make any purchases (excepting a bunch of bananas from Derek’s fruit and veg to get change for the car park) (and a coffee) (and cake) on this visit to Ashbourne, but would certainly return. The frugality is more enforced than by choice, but come with a ready wallet and you’ll certainly find something worth stopping for in this little town. If nothing else, you’re at the edge of Dovedale and the Peaks, with some of the country’s finest scenery on your doorstep. Go look.

Find: Ashbourne @ Google Maps
Get there: Another one with no station, but plenty of car parking by the looks of things. Alternatively, trek here via the Tissington Trail or the Limestone Way.
Consume with: There are many cafes and coffee shops – we chose Costa (because it was closest).
Visit: no doubt there’s plenty in town, but I’d recommend striking out – you’re soon in Dovedale and the southern edge of the Peak District – there’s Matlock, Bakewell, Buxton and other towns close by, and more than sufficient viewpoints. You could also pick your moment and arrive for the annual Shrovetide football, a melée more than a match.
Overall rating: four Steig Larssons.

Monmouth

Monmouth, Monmouthshire, by Oxfordshire Churches. Used under Creative Commons, click for link.

For CST’s first foray into Wales, you could hardly accuse me of being adventurous. Monmouth is very much the border town, currently sitting two miles within Monmouthshire on the river Wye, the traditional South Wales border. But it’s quite suited to taking a digital look at: Monmouth is the country’s first Wikipedia town. QR codes have sprung up on any interesting building, any notable resident is having a thorough and multilingual write-up, and non-computer-literate residents are being encouraged to bring items and photographs to be scanned into the Monmouthpedia project. There’s plenty to find out about, as the project demonstrates, and even the most cursory wander around town reveals castles, town halls and a wealth of history.

As a visitor today, you’ll find plenty of things to occupy your time. As a walker you might emerge into the town from the Offa’s Dyke Path or the Wye Valley Walk; as a motorist you’ll no doubt want to swan around the nearby Forest of Dean, which remains as beautiful as it ever has been; as a lazier tourist you might want to visit the castle or the impressive town hall, the local food market or, of course, the charity shops.

Of the latter there are several, including a few particularly select offerings. Starting at the top of town (there’s free parking on the road between the river Monnow and the Priory), first stop is the charming Church Street – all cobbles and quaint shop fronts, and humming with local shoppers on a sunny morning out. PS – that didn’t last: given that this is Wales, by the afternoon we were being hailed, thundered and lightninged on at Symonds Yat. just over the border. British Red Cross is located here and we found some Emma Bridgwater mugs for cheap, and the appropriate Haynes manual. Proceeding onto Agincourt Square we’ll find the two best shops in the town close by one another, Cancer Research and Oxfam. Both were buntinged up to the eyeballs in light of the recent Queenly visit to South Wales, with a really good selection of vintage clothes and tat, some eye-wateringly retro records and, to my Constant Companion’s delight, Danish cookware.

Monmouthpedia Shire Hall Exterior, by Monmouthshire County Council, under Creative Commons. Click for link.

Monnow Street, the main shopping drag on the hill down to the Wye valley, has a fair few more to offer alongside more than its fair share of antiques-lite shops. You know the sort: few actual antiques, more of a gift shop with some sanded down old G-plan furniture. For shabby chic, read, distressed refurbished bedside table selling for several times what it was worth new. Ignore these, and you can cheerfully browse British Heart Foundation, Age UK, Sue Ryder and St David’s Hospice (we are in Wales after all). As long as you’re aware that the free parking is for an hour only, you can probably rush around all of these. Stop for the cheap sausage sandwich (see below) and you might struggle – I’d advise taking a good couple of hours for a mooch, Monmouth’s a really pleasant little town.

Find: Monmouth @ Google Maps
Get there: No rail link, post-Beeching, but there are plenty of buses from all major towns in the area.
Consume with: Eat Your Crusts, on St Mary Street, does a mighty fine and might cheap hot sausage sandwich.
Visit: Andy Hamilton is performing at the Savoy Theatre on Church Street soon.
Overall rating: four Danska dishes

Petersfield

Sunrise at Petersfield, under creative commons, by Neil Bonnar. Click pic for link.

Some of our charity shop tourism ends up stirring up a whole glut of memories. This time around it meant visiting a South Downs market town where I spent many happy hours as a child – Petersfield was home to my grandparents as long as I could remember. So, we had a quick tour of what little I could remember and the town has barely changed. Approaching from Winchester along the A272 brings you a very scenic route through Britain’s newest National Park, underneath the A3 and into the town. My preferred route is then to turn off onto Frenchman’s Lane then along The Spain to Dragon Street and approach the town that way – you can then turn off down The Avenue to the Heath and its boating lake – get an ice cream, I should.

For a small town, there’s quite a bustling little town centre, with regular markets in the town square overlooked by the big statue of a man on a horse. This is a proper little southern English community, as befits its location history as a chartered market town: plenty of neat gardens, retired ladies from the church volunteer group staffing cake stalls outside Waitrose, and scattered, homey little restaurants. There’s a physic garden, town museum and a gallery devoted to the local artiste (Flora Twort), like an English version of Nick Cave’s archetypal American town. These days there’s also Costa and a touch of the creeping homogeneity that suggests, but mostly this is a charming, quaint, southern English town.

Cheerfully, there’s a selection of neat and quaint charity shops as well. The biggest one is undoubtedly Sue Ryder, on the corner of the neat and quaint Lavant Street, also home to Age UK and several cookshops – it’s that kind of town. This is a huge, double-fronted cornershop – although with no particular bargains on this visit. If you’re coming by train you’ll do so down Lavant Street then turn into Chapel Street, where you’ll find Scope, then onto Swan Street, which is really the main thoroughfare. Here you’ll locate Oxfam Books and Cancer Research clustered around the Square, with it’s man-on-a-horse cobbles. Along the High Street you’ll also find Rowan’s Hospice with various posh frocks and hats. I have a vague recollection of one on the opposite side as well, selling olde cameras – this may have been a more commercial second-hand store.

It was thoroughly lovely coming back to Petersfield, and although there’s little reason for me to visit regularly, it was a cheerful parade of memories, from the boats on the lake to the cobbles on the square. Armed with a good selection of charity shops, I’d happily commend you if you’re on a visit of the South Downs, now it’s gone National. Isn’t it, though, as granny used to say.

Find: Petersfield @ Google Maps
Get there: Petersfield station is located at the far end of Lavant Street.
Consume with: I don’t know how feasible this is for any other visitors, but we had excellent brownies from the stand outside Waitrose.
Visit: The South Downs National Park is full of delights – nearby are QE Country Park and Butser Hill, scenes of many a school trip or family picnic.
Overall rating: four posh ‘ats.

Kendal

Branthwaite Brow, Kendal, England by pixelsandpaper, under Creative Commons. Click for link.

Despite being the biggest town for some distance, Kendal has never been a county town, or the capital of the Lake District or anything. Rather, it was the centre of one of two baronies which made up the historic county of Westmorland, later subsumed into Cumbria, and today is a minor administrative HQ for the South Lakeland district council. However, it’s always been a hub, a market town drawing trade from across the most dramatic scenery of England, and remains so today – bigger than the nestled quaintness of Keswick, or the tourist-heavy Windermere or Ambleside, Kendal’s become a properly lovely little town, more than just mint cake.

You descend into Kendal via ranks of grey limestone cottages, flanked on every side by, if not formally the Lake District national park, then certainly the foothills of the Cumbrian mountains, the Shap fells, even looking towards Sedbergh and the Yorkshire Dales. It’s easily found from the M6, with snow-capped peaks in the background winking at you. There’s a fairly completed, if scenic, one-way system which (if you’re not careful) will whizz you over the River Kent and out again. We’ve parked in the shopping centre the couple of times we’ve visited. Sometimes it’s best just to find the first big blue P and go there.

Kendal town centre is based around Highgate and the excellently-named Stricklandgate, a hilly, semi-pedestrianised main drag which is complemented by several quaint side streets and a market square (as well as the Westmorland shopping centre). The charity shops cluster around the junction between the two ‘gates: at this point there’s a twin Oxfam (similarly to Glossop) with a good range particularly in the bookshop. This one’s definitely worth a stop for the Lakes guidebook/map hunter, although be warned – Oxfam always knows the value of a book, so don’t be expecting to pick up bargain Wainwright guides.

Almost next door you’ll find Scope, then over the road a Salvation Army and St John Hospice. These latter two are large shops filled with a veritable plethora of stuff; the British Heart Foundation slightly up the hill is less good, and is annoyingly laid-out, as per usual. Off the marketplace there’s a pretty good Barnado’s shop – this one had a pile of vintage fabrics when we were there as well as a fez. It goes without saying that the latter proved more tempting…

Finally, AgeUK is on Finkle Street, a tiddly little lane just off the main shopping route, but which makes a nice loop around – it’s accessible from both ends round the back of the marketplace. This is just an ordinary little shop, but did throw up a pretty decent record player for just £6.50, which is cheerful. We’ve been listening to Peter Gabriel and Dire Straits ever since.

I feel like I should be able to wax more lyrical about Kendal – perhaps Monday morning isn’t the best time of week for composing prose. Don’t let me put you off by the matter-of-fact post – Kendal’s a really lovely little town, definitely worth a visit.

Find: Kendal @ Google Maps
Get there: Kendal’s on the very scenic rail branch line from Lancaster to Windermere, which looks worth a go.
Consume with: Costa is a safe bet as normal.
Visit: as with so many of our visits recently, get walking. While Kendal itself lies in the Kent valley, you’re not far from anay of the Lake District here – Windermere is 8 miles on, Longsleddale (inspiration for Greendale) is the nearest hillage, and you’re not far from the Howgill Fells either.
Overall rating: four Dire Straits albums

   

Glossop

English landscape: Pennine foothills Glossop England

Traditionally, a weekend away for the wife away involves a significant amount of precipitation, and so it was an unsurprisingly grey and damp Saturday when we found ourselves in Glossop, on the top edge of the Peak District national park. Whatever the delights of the town, there’s little argument that what makes Glossop so exciting is its location. Head 15 miles East and you’re in the centre of Manchester; the same distance South and you pass along the high Hayfield Road to the spa delights of Buxton. Due North and you’re into the disputed trans-Pennine territory that is partly in Greater Manchester but, with placenames like Slaithwaite, Tintwistle and Mytholmroyd will be forever Yorkshire. This way lies the infamous and bleak Saddleworth Moor, famous for all sorts of wrong reasons. Head East and you’re in really dramatic territory, and one of the reasons I wanted to explore this region – it’s traffic report territory. You can keep your Forth road bridge and your Scotch Corner, I’ve always wanted to drive along the Woodhead and Snake passes. They’re the first to get snowed in, the first to cause massive delays between Manchester and Sheffield, and in the latter case, maybe the best name of any geographical feature ever. So head slightly North-East and you’re up on the smooth, high tarmac of the Woodhead Pass towards Penistone and Barnsley. Slightly South-East and you’re in the craggy ridges and looming hills of the Snake Pass, emerging at the Western edge of Sheffield. These are wonderfully barren, isolated places, and give charity shop shopping a run for its money in the tourism stakes.

However: a sniffly nose and a soggy day do not great Peak walking make. So we toured by car and stopped for coffee and a poke in Glossop. We got in into Costa just in time before the rain started again, and before the crush started in the small shop. From here we could look out onto the Norfolk Square with what I presume to be the Town Hall opposite. The main shopping area extends along the High Street, up and East, and down and West of here, and can be cheerfully covered in an hour.

On the square itself you’ll find twin Oxfams next door to each other, one standard, one for books. You’ll also find AgeUK, Debra, and Cancer Research along the main drag – while none of these are revelations, it’s a fair haul for charity shops. There’s also a miscellaneous style shop with some young staff utterly enthralled by a robotic dog, and possibly a furniture shop housed in an old Connexions branch. There may be others, but these weren’t apparent.

Glossop itself isn’t a particularly exciting town, compared to the likes of Manchester or Buxton nearby. But it’s a decent stop-off and, given a bit of time to explore its industrial history and gorgeous surroundings, you wouldn’t regret a visit.

Find: Glossop @ Google Maps
Get there: Glossop is very well connected from Manchester, though if you can, come in through the mountains somehow.
Consume with: Costa is a safe bet, can’t really elaborate I’m afraid.
Visit: get walking – head up Kinder Scout for an authorised trespass.
Overall rating: three silver spoons

Matlock

Derwent Valley, Derbyshire, under creative commons by Duncan Harris. Click pic for link.

Although just outside the bounds of the Peak District national park, you won’t run short of scenery in and around Matlock. The River Derwent, which winds down from the middle of the park, through Bakewell, Matlock, Belper and Derby before meeting the Trent, has carved out an impressive path through the Derbyshire Dales, and the Matlock area is where you find some of the most dramatic parts. Maybe the best way to approach the town centre is from the South, from Belper direction – you’ll follow the Cromford Canal and the Derwent through a UNESCO World Heritage Site of mills and industrial history (I’m pretty much in love with all that at the moment, you’ll have to forgive me) and then pass into the really dramatic gorge around Matlock Bath – stop here for the Heights of Abraham with its cable car – and into Matlock town centre. If you fancy, you can walk all the way, or you can come from the opposite direction on the Peak Rail.

Matlock and its environs were a collection of unimportant villages until the discovery of thermal springs there at the close of the 17th century. With the industrial revolution just a few years after, and Victorian hydro-tourism, Matlock became the bustling county town of Derbyshire, and remains a busy rural town today. What that essentially means for our intentions is that there’s a pile of charity shops, plenty to look at, and something to eat.

If you arrive in Matlock from Cromford direction, you’ll find an Oxfam Books shop as your first charity shop on Dale Road. You’d be well advised to embrace the non-charity sector as well – although there’s one or two smartly priced antiques shops, we’ve found some excellent bargains in Second Time Around, just over the road from Oxfam, including books, blankets, maps and all sorts. Cross over the river and stop to admire the view towards Riber Castle along the Derwent and once again thank your lucky stars that you can come to such a beautiful part of the world. Chuck a penny in the oddly-coloured water of the wishing well, if you’re very grateful.

At the Crown Square roundabout you’re faced with three variably fruitful options. Turn left for the road to Bakewell, Youlgreave and into the Peaks. Along here you’ll find a handily located Wetherspoon’s for breakfast, the Railway Inn for other liquid refreshment (sadly, they seem not to do the breakfasts any more that we enjoyed on our first visit, watching England embarrass themselves in the Rugby World Cup over a plate of sausage and egg), and the slightly odd, crammed-full Lighthouse charity shop. There’s plenty of bargains in here including small electricals, if you can negotiate the over-stuffed room and inconveniently-placed staff.

Go straight up the hill from the bridge, on Bank Road, and you’ll find the majority of Matlock’s civic or historic buildings; importantly, you’ll also find Save The Children, British Red Cross and AgeUK, although you may not find much in them. Alternatively, right onto Causeway Lane will take you along the parks by the river and just round the corner to Firs Parade, home to Mind, Sue Ryder and British Heart Foundation. So that’s a fair haul of eight charity shops in a little town which happens to be one of the prettiest I know. As you can see, I’m in a generous mood, but I’ve no doubt we’ll be returning to Matlock any and every time we’re in the area.

Find: Matlock @ Google Maps
Get there: you’ve many options – walk the Derwent Valley Heritage Trail, catch the Peak Rail steam train, or get the normal train from Derby.
Consume with: I would have said breakfast at the Railway, but there’s plenty of other options, including the ‘spoons.
Visit: plenty round here! Masson Mills, Heights of Abraham, Riber Castle…
Overall rating: five china face dolls

Bakewell

Bakewell Street, by Dave Pearson, under Creative Commons. Click for link.

One of the glories of moving away from the all-consuming monetary monster of the South East is that other places are so much closer. There’s a reason it’s called the Midlands – it’s in the middle, making so many places so much more accessible. I never really noticed at first: it’s easy to get caught up in a London bubble, but try and get out and it’s hard work. Negotiate the clogged arterial roads and you meet the more-clogged M25. Find your way out of that and you’ll likely be on a roadwork-heavy M1 or a thronging M4. Travel for half an hour in London and you’ll be half a mile from your starting place. Travel for half an hour in the Midlands, even at rush hour, and you’re halfway to your weekend holiday destination.

Hence a pleasant weekend away in the Peak District, just over an hour away. Typically for an October weekend, this was not the best time for sightseeing – the fog rolled in on Friday night and little could be seen. We pressed on boldly though: while the Peaks are undoubtedly prime hiking territory (on clearer days), we weren’t sure where to begin, so this little time away afforded an opportunity to scope out the area and make some plans for next time. Staying (on a Travelodge cheapie deal) at Alfreton, Bakewell was on our journey into the peaks, and was a worthy stop.

There’s a general rule of thumb when you’re visiting a town: if it’s a bit scenic; if it’s set in beautiful countryside, ripe for walking; if it’s raining: try somewhere else. Not that there’s anything wrong with Bakewell, but on a foggy, damp early October weekend, it was heaving. Nestled into the White Peaks, Bakewell is very much the quaint English country town. Now replete with Edinburgh Woolen Mill and copious walking shops, it caters to the sensible trouser-clad hiker and the epicurious as well – it’s not every town that can lay claim to its own pudding.

Let’s get the pudding out of the way. A Bakewell pudding is not a Bakewell tart. The tart so familiar through Mr Kipling‘s marketing endeavours is a shortcrust pastry filled with jam and a ground almond-based sponge. The pudding, which will take you by surprise if you’re not expecting it, is a hot thing served with custard or cream, a puff pastry base containing  a little jam and a pile of almondy egg custard. The variants are served up by the main competitors in town: the Old Original Bakewell Pudding Shop and the Bakewell Tart Shop and Coffee House. We ventured into the former and eagerly awaited our hot snack, but confess disappointment – slimy and odd. I’ll be sticking with the wife’s homemade version, which is a pile better. (To be fair to the Pudding Shop, it was a gorgeous building with a lovely deli downstairs which sent us away with a locally-brewed South Pacific Pale Ale.)

If you don’t fancy that strange confection, there’s plenty of tea-room/coffee-house based choice, whether you want modern funky cafe, or Austrian-themed coffee rooms with chaffinches in the rafters. These fit comfortably into the gaps between chunky jumper shops and stout walking shoe shops and, of course, charity shops. The first you’ll see is Mind which featured, if nothing else notable, Rupert Bear Christmas cards. After this, tucked away in the back are an Ashgate Hospice shop, Derbyshire Air Ambulance and AgeUK. These shops were packed out (and poorly laid out…), but still we got a nice velvety jacket (we both, apparently, are suckers for a brown velvety jacket).

Bakewell is pretty lovely really, if you’re not of the violently misanthropic variety: be warned, it’s a tourist town but it’s very pretty, very tasty, and in unbeatably lovely surroundings.

Find: Bakewell @ Google Maps
Get there: no train link, thanks Dr Beeching – it’ll have to be bus.
Consume with: while the many coffee shops were lovely, I was sorely tempted by the excellently-named Pizzakebabwell.
Visit: You’re right in the heart of the white peak district here, so take your pick. Monsal Dale is a regularly-recommended walk.
Overall rating: three chunky jumpers

Ross-on-Wye

Ross on Wye, Herefordshire, by Cross Duck. Picture used under Creative Commons, click pic for link.

Sitting in the bar of the Royal Hotel overlooking one of the Wye’s circuitous meanders, munching on fish and chips and generally wiling away time is, it turns out, an extremely pleasant way to slow down a Saturday afternoon. Typically for an English summer’s day, the fluffy clouds of lunchtime turned into a damp afternoon in Ross; later on, a plucky country music festival on the grass below will be entirely flooded by a massive thunderstorm – I suppose par for the course when you’re this close to Wales.

Ross considers itself a home of the British tourist trade – the first guided boat tours took in the Wye from Ross, the first tourist guide was published in 1782 about the river. It’s no wonder, really: situated on the edge of both the Forest of Dean and the Herefordshire countryside, Ross is a stone’s throw from the Malverns, the Black Mountains, the Bristol Channel or the cathedral cities of the West Country. And Ross itself is a desperately quaint little market town with pride in itself and its environs. Helpfully, it’s bursting with charity shops, making even a rainy stop-over worthwhile.

The town centres on its stilted Market House at the top of Broad Street. From there you can proceed uphill along the High Street towards St Mary’s church, the Royal Hotel or the Phoenix Theatre, past an array of locally run, independent shops. Particularly interesting looking were Waterfall Antiques, and Truffles deli, stocking an impressive 90 local ciders, arranged by distance from the shop. The opposite direction is Gloucester Road and here you’ll find St Michael’s and Acorns hospice shops. The former provided me with a speculative purchase of a Henning Mankell novel, introducing me to Inspector Wallander, off of the telly. Let me go on the record now to state that it was rubbish.

It’s the steep main drag, Broad Street, that houses most of the charity shops. You’ll find British Heart Foundation, Barnardos, Oxfam, Sue Ryder Care, Cancer Research and AgeUK lining the street and if you can’t find a bargain in there, you may well be blind. Ross is a tiny town that punches well for charity shops. It’s certainly one of the most agreeable visits you’ll find location-wise and you’d be daft not to have at least a little look.

Find: Ross-on-Wye @ Google Maps
Get there: Ross is a little bit like hard work if you haven’t got a car: you’ll need the train to Ledbury, though there’s plenty of buses from there.
Consume with: we had lunch at the Royal Hotel – perfectly serviceable, great location, decent price.
Visit: like history? Try Goodrich castle. Like nature? Try Symond’s Yat. Like walking? Try the Forest of Dean. And so on.
Overall rating: four Fat Face shirts.