Some scenic pics for you from a week ago, as I take the slow train to Manchester and jump off (not literally) at cheery Chinley.
A trio of Old Boys in hiking gear discussed the pubs at all the stops, raising hopes that they were local CAMRAs about to score ALL the pubs in the Hope Valley, but sadly they stayed on past Chinley, and were probably off to cause havoc in Marple.
In 1827 Joel Henry Clayton from nearby Bugsworth (as was) swam to the USA and founded Clayton, California at the foot of Mount Diablo.
Clayton’s main pub looks a corker;
Here in Derbyshire, the most celebrated boozer is a more sedate affair. Follow the finger.
(NB Stephanie currently on furlough).
I didn’t need to revisit the Old Hall, but my tick in Whaley wasn’t open for an hour and it would have been rude to walk past and not say hello.
An upmarket all-rounder, winner of numerous awards, including “Best Pub Blankets 2017”.
I picked the beer with the smallest pump clip. “Good choice, it’s brewed down the road” said the charming and informative barmaid. I didn’t say I’d only picked it as it had the smallest pump clip.
I sat outside in the heat and listened to posh Derbyshire getting slightly sozzled; nature is healing. “I just want to swan around” said a lady contemplating early retirement. Me too.
The Big Stone Beer was a cool, tasty Belgian style red that was as good as you could hope in 28 degrees.
Just because it was there, I considered using the bell to order another, but then I realised the toilet facilities along the Peak Forest Trail were less than ideal.
And no, Eccles Pike is NOT the home of the Eccles cake, Simon.