Arbor Low and Bakwell

Arbor Low is a bronze age stone circle inside a henge (a bank and ditch) near here. Aprille had never seen it, and so we drove over together. I made the left turn at Warslow correctly this time, which felt good.

To get into Arbor Low, which is on private land, you park and walk up a lane through a farmyard. Aprille said this farmer was really on top of things: the sheep were already shorn. There were lots of cows as well, and they were grazing right through the 6000 year old site. It's all pasture now, although presumably it was forested here when built.

Arbor Low would be something like Stonehenge except in medieval times the local residents came and pushed each stone carefully over, perhaps to weaken the pagan energy. The bank and ditch are unchanged however, and it was irresistible for us to make a circuit on top of the bank. Galen and Will pretended to be warriors and kept shooting their (imaginary) bows at each other.

We walked over to adjacent Gib Hill, a neolithic barrow with a bronze age barrow atop it. From our point of view though, just a small hill. Kate really enjoyed the dramas of the sheep field: ewe and lamb separated; ewe and lamb reunited! The lambs were ridiculously cute. It might be a bit more difficult to eat one now.

Aprille set off for home, and we continued on to Bakewell on winding back roads. In the town we parked on the far side of the River Wye, and crossed over on a footbridge: it was a festive scene of ducks and geese on the river surface being fed by the many people on the river bank eating lunch. We sat down and ate our picnic lunch too. Will threw in a few bread chunks to the ducks but before the ducks could get them they were gobbled up by enormous trout waiting just below the surface. I've never seen so many trout.

Many little stops in Bakewell, which is a beautiful town of stone: Holland & Barretts to buy a jar of the tasty but disappointingly named 'No-Caf,' for Kate; Post Office to mail a letter for Galen; Toy Store to look at Airfix models and jigsaw puzzles; Bakewell Tart Shop to buy the obligatory Bakewell Tart (smallest possible); Bookstore for a tree guide and maps for Morgan, a wildflower guide (grouped by flower colour) for Kate, and a Roald Dahl book for Galen; the sweetshop for candy; Millets outdoor store to browse.

In the Post Office I noticed the clerks behind bullet-proof glass, just as they were in Longnor. Aprille says there have been attacks on post office workers by disgruntled people. Weird.

We walked up to the Parish Church to explore its dark and cool interior. Galen walked the Stations of the Cross and read what was written at each one. There was Norman stonework all along the back wall. Will tested and tried every door. The boys are as intrigued by a church as a castle.

In the graveyard outside a sign read "Old House Museum: turn right at lych gate." We didn't know what the lych gate was (it is the gateway covered with a roof found at the traditional entrance to a British churchyard, for those of you know like to know) but Will said we must go to this museum. We followed the path up and around to an old house, built in 1570's and added on it in bits over the years. It turned out to be a brilliant museum of both the house (we got to see a real wattle-and-daub wall) and Bakewell's history. (The town name has nothing to do with Baking, and everything to do with a Well.) They even had a dress-up room where you could try on clothes from former eras. It turns out that Galen and Will both look good in a cap.

By now it was about 3:00 and the boys were agitating for fish and chips, so we bought an order and carried it back to the river to divide between us. Then our Pay and Display parking ran out and we set off for home, via Monyash. Kate took over driving at Longnor and did a brilliant job! She is much more natural to this than I am.