It was time to turn to “home” and half-baked plans to visit Melton Mowbray and Ironbridge were shelved. We left Chatsworth with the intention of idling away a couple of extra nights in Derbyshire, with the first night wild in the Goyt Valley. We called in at Buxton, which brought back some childhood memories.
Buxton makes some small provision for parking Motorhomes in the tiny coach park (4 spaces). Charges are high. We took advantage however, walking Nell in the park where I marvelled at the idea that it had once been deemed a suitable venue for a Brownies picnic outing… and we managed to pay an aged cheque into a branch of our building society.
It was an unpleasantly wet day and as we climbed out of the valley the visibility worsened rapidly. We had left navigation to the GPS unit, which once again failed miserably and brought us to the Derbyshire Bridge end of the reservoir, where wilding is not permitted. It was not just misty and wet bt also icy still on the ground. We took Nell for a brief walk but none of us really enjoyed it much. We headed back to the van and reviewed our options with the aid of the Britstops book and the Internet.
After an extended period during which no satisfactory solution was presenting itself, Mr Snail announced that The Egerton Arms, where we had stayed in November on the way down to exchange vans, was not very far away from where we were sitting. The call of the good ale and the open fire was strong. Agreement was reached. Off we went. This time we were able to fit through the gate in order to park at the rear away from the traffic.
From Chelford we ventured, via the M6 and Ikea Warrington, into Lancashire — stopping overnight in the car park at the Bashall Barn farm shop/restaurant, where they serve up a fine fish finger sandwich for lunch. The brunch dish of Black Pudding Fritter with Poached egg is a marvel! Sadly they did not have extra supplies of black pudding in the shop for us to take home.
Bashall is one of several places claiming to be “the centre of…” – in this case “The Kingdom”
The GPS took us by a very silly route that resulted in my fervent gratitude that we were not in Hank the Yank. The Barn is in fact accessible quite easily from Clitheroe without driving a mile and a half along a single track road.
The car park is spacious and has some reasonably level parts though we parked well away from the entrance, where it was noticeably less level. We had hoped for a view but the fog stayed with us.
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