This post is proudly sponsored by the Marriage Guidance Council, which says “Do What Your Wife Tells You To, Idiot“.
Mrs RM has been trying to get me to go for a walk in “The Real Peak” for a while, oddly unimpressed by my hikes round housing estates near the M1.
“But it’s more than 5 miles !” I squealed. “We’ll be arrested by Derbyshire Police and be in prison when pubs re-open !”.
So reader, in the style of OJ Simpson, I ask you to accept this blogpost in the style of “IF we drove to Longshaw“.
Or perhaps accept there’s a B & Q Click-and-Collect centre on Hathersage Moor.
“Over the moors, take me to the moors” sang Morrissey, who I bet never paid £2.50 to park in a National Trust layby on the edge of Sheffield. £2.50 !
An ideal walk, IF you do go on one of those lovely Spring days only I seem to enjoy while the rest of the UK moans about our weather. The sun shines on the righteous, and Mrs RM on this walking occasion.
12 degrees, light breeze, easy “spongy” footpaths, and you can see the Wrexham Bass mirror factory from Mother Cap, which may or may not be the point below.
Why did ancient Britons always feel the need to carve Smiths lyrics all over the rocks ?
Not many folk about, bar the obligatory septuagenarian dog walker and intense rock climber, so no-one in the way of Mrs RM’s Instagram shots. Apart from me (top).
“I told you we should come here“. Mrs RM was right. Make a note of the date. “See if you can do a post without any pubs” as if pubs are A BAD THING.
In 2007 we stayed at the Fox House Innkeepers Lodge on the edge of the moors. £39 a night for a family room including breakfast, but of course “England is SO expensive“.
I took the lads up the scree to Winyard’s Nick while Mrs RM drank Jaipur. Probably for breakfast. Ah, memories.