Peak District Day 1 (Part 2)

Tweet Follow @photograferry
Day 1 (Part 1)

Monsal Head and traveling clouds

After breakfast I took the drive south to Monsal Head, a spectacular viewpoint looking down Monsal Dale and up the Wye Valley. Where the river Wye carves its way through a high ridge of limestone, and winds its way through the deep sided, rocky valley.

It’s also home to the Headstone Viaduct, an elegant structure built in 1863 by the former Midland Railway, to cross 40 foot above the Wye River. It is now considered an essential part of the landscape, although there was some opposition to its original construction because of the damage it caused to the surrounding area.

Peak District Day 1 (Part 1)

Tweet Follow @photograferry

I traveled up to the Peak District on the Thursday, hopeing to have plenty of time to look about and get myself familiar with the area. Unfortunately the motorway Gods took an unfathomable dislike to me, and closed the M1 not long after I was discharged onto its clogged artery. So after a long detour and copious amounts of bumper to bumper action, I arrived at the campsite in Bamford four and half hours after setting off.

I quickly put up the tent, and was soon having a scout about in the hot afternoon sun. It wasn’t long before it started to cloud over as afternoon turned to evening, so I headed back to the campsite to make some dinner and have an all-out skirmish with the local bug population, who seemed intent on draining me of all my life giving nutrients.

I took a few snaps on my phone on the Thursday as I was nosing around. They are Over Owler Tor, an old Millstone at Baslow Edge and a cow who just would not stop staring at me, in a field of buttercups.

An afternoon in the meadow

Tweet Follow @photograferry

Finding myself at a loose end a couple of weeks ago, I took a stroll down to Burford meadow, a relatively small patch of land that encompasses a section of the River Windrush, as it meanders on its picturesque journey through the Cotswolds, before spilling into the Thames at Newbridge.

The meadow was sporting a good crop of buttercups, and a handsome herd of cows, so it was no chore to spend an afternoon wandering over the boggy ground, amongst the fresh spring growth.