Sep 19, 2010


Last Sunday we decided to go to Hayfield Show. There would be sheep-dog trials, a farmers' market, craft stalls and trade stalls, plus other attractions.

Hayfield is between Chapel-en-le-Frith and Glossop. It was drizzling on and off in the morning but the sun was making an effort to shine. So we packed our waterproof coats, umbrella, dog, flask and sandwiches in the car and set off for what would be a fifty minute drive, according to Google.

Wet and dreary weather in Derbyshire.

Before long we were reminded of why we don't drive around in Derbyshire on a Sunday any more. Along the whole of our route there was an endless stream of cars. Goodness knows what it would have been like if the sun was shining and the rain had not put some people off. The drizzle turned to proper rain but we fought our way through the villages, negociating the numerous cycists, horse-riders and walkers that had braved the weather and got to Hayfield in just over an hour. Only to find that the event had been cancelled due to the weather.

These horses looked as miserable as we felt, just waiting for the rain to stop.

Still, at least it had saved us the £6 each entrance fee, plus the parking fee. At events like this you have parted with almost twenty quid before you have set foot in the mud.

Not being too keen to pay the parking charge in the middle of Hayfield, we set off towards Glossop in search of a quiet lay-by where we could eat our packed lunch before we came home.

Sitting in a lay-by, listening to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof and the continuous splash of cars passing by, I was reminded of many a miserable day out in my childhood. The whole family would go out for the day in our Sunday best, and , determined to enjoy ourselves in spite of the weather, would sit in a lay-by somewhere to eat our sandwiches and home-made jam tarts. Then we would go home, having seen nothing but rain on the car windows and dry-stone walls passing by. In those days, there was infinitely less traffic but the weather was just as bad.

Last Sunday we passed lots of things that I would have liked to have photographed for the blog. Except that it was impossible to stop anywhere. There was hardly anywhere to pull in off the road that wasn't already stuffed full of cars or where you had to pay. There were white and yellow lines all along the road and the continuous traffic made a quick stop to snap a picture out of the question.

Eventually we spotted a deserted place to park with some kind of a view worth photographing. We had to go a mile or so further on before we could safely turn round and go back to it. The pull-in had a nice view of a waterfall, pot-holes, bags of old rubbish and bottles. The view down the hillside was obscured by the mist and rain.

A waterfall, somewhere near Glossop.

We got Lulu out of the car for a short walk on the lead, then headed on towards Glossop and continued on our circular route home. We fought our way between the parked cars that litter the streets of Glossop - whose terraced houses were built long before each household had two cars - then along the A57 towards Ladybower. It was very slow going. Even in the week it's not much quicker due to the enormous lorries picking their way along the twisty and narow road. That's if it's not closed altogether due to snow or to some hapless motorist having to be scraped off the road after trying to overtake one of the lorries before being taken away by the air ambulance.

Lulu was quite happy to get back into the car.

Towards the top of Ladybower reservoir we found another lay-by with a space so another photo opportunity presented itself, so long as I was happy to sprint across the road between the cars and peer into the mist.

Ladybower Reservoir.

It was a day when we definitely did not see Derbyshire at its best. It is always a battle with the traffic at weekends and we are plagued with signs every few yards telling us what we can and can't do. No stopping here, no parking there, look out for bikes and horses, take your litter home. All the roads we used had a 50 mph speed limit and lots of speed cameras. Not that we like to speed but we just hate the fact that the traffic is so bad that all this stuff has to be there.

Surely, the people who dump rubbish in the countryside already know that they shouldn't.

It's all so different from how I remember it until even 15 years ago, when moving about in the county was much easier and you didn't have to pay through the nose to park the car or have a cup of tea.

The thing I don't understand is, if they have to load the van with rubbish and drive out into the countryside, why don't they just take it to the tip? It's probably nearer.

It's also completely different in France. Moving around rural France is an absolute joy compared to Derbyshire. The traffic is lighter. The roadsides are neat and well-tended. It is most unusual to find rubbish dumped in the hedgerows or by the road, unless it's next to a bin that hasn't been emptied yet. You rarely have to pay to park the car and there is usually no entrance fee for the events.

Sometimes I find it really hard to love the place I live.


  1. Jean - flytipping saddens me so much. Why don't these people love and respect the place they live in? It's their home, after all. Catching them must be almost impossible. Let's hope the next generation are more environmentally-aware. We've been to the Peak district and loved it... hope to go again soon.


  2. Stella - thanks for visiting my blog. It saddens me, too, to see all the rubbish that spoils our roadsides. Whether it's a few McDonalds cartons or a pile of old car parts such as in the photo, I just don't understand the mentality of people who do this.


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