Just got back from the Peak District, where I met up with some old friends from ... too long ago. The Cliff Road boys are scattered all over the country so it's rare that we all meet up. We Stayed in Longnor near Buxton (in this fine pub), and had far too much to eat. After breakfast, we waited in the slanted, stony High Street for the local brass band to greet each other, assemble in ranks, and march off, with the Brownies in tow.
We then drove to Thorpe, up and down dale. Thorpe is another village within the National Park, where another old uni mate lives. He told us about mud a-plenty in the Dovedale Dash (his missus does fell-running too - must visit them again and bring my trainers!) and snow in the harsh winters. Today, spectacular low sunshine picked out thousands of details during our walk in Dovedale and around. We sat outside the pub (the Izaak Walton hotel, Ilam) in strange November sun.
As we laughed and joked, well-dressed gentlemen and their ladies returned from participating. from one of the thousands of remembrance services that were held in the UK today. Years ago, gangs of lads from all over the country went out together on sunny mornings like this.