It's been a Bank Holiday today and with the combination of pretty much a regular weekday service on the trains and a Sunday service on the buses it meant that I was able to be up on the moors very early; I arrived at Fox House at 08:45.
I got off the bus and immediately headed towards Burbage Rocks across the heather.
I walked along the top of the rocks, frequently stopping to admire the view and take photographs.
As I approached Upper Burbage Bridge I could see many dozens of cars in the car park and parked on the side of the road, in laybys, on grass verges, and even on the moors themselves...I have never seen so many cars here - this was to be a portend as to what would come later.
I found a comfortable rock to sit on and eat my sandwiches and then studied the map before I decided where to go next. I headed off down to Hathersage.
Just after I took this next photograph I discovered something quite shocking, disturbing, puzzling, and upsetting.
I was, and still am, a bit unsure about even posting this online, and might subsequently delete it.
As I was walking down towards Hathersage I found a dead rabbit at the side of the path. Two neat holes had been cut in its side, one circular and the other oval shaped; I thought it prudent not to take any photographs, and certainly not to post any on the blog...I even hid my camera away deep in my rucksack and didn't get it out again until I reached Hathersage. The wounds to the rabbit were done in a very professional manner, they certainly weren't done by wild animals or caused by crude butchery; my best guess is that some sort of machine surgically removed the organs.
I put all of this to the back of my mind and made quick time to Hathersage, only stopping briefly to photograph Scraperlow, an unusual large house, making sure there was no-one around to see me with my camera.
On the approach to the main part of the village I needed to cross the main Sheffield road in order to reach the pavement on the other side; it was dangerous to walk along the grass verge at this location. In both directions there was a non-stop flow of traffic and it took me five minutes to reach the other side.
I popped in to The Scotsman's Pack for a pint of Diet Coke on my way to visit the church; the drink was very refreshing and the patio where I sat outside is quite pleasant.
There are some nice views on the way to Bamford.
As I was walking down a steep narrow lane my day got even stranger. I had to step aside to let a large tractor pass; bizarrely it was pulling a large cage with about a dozen loud, raucous, probably drunk, well-dressed woman sitting on make-shift wooden benches...they might have even been shackled. When they saw me they all waved and yelled; I waved back - maybe they'd never seen a sweaty hiker before.
I arrived at the bus stop at Bamford fifteen minutes before the bus was due but one arrived almost immediately; it was the earlier bus that was forty five minutes late due to the heavy traffic.
I got on, of course.