I’ve enrolled with Alliance Française for lessons on Monday evenings. I want to brush up on my French, which is very rusty following years of extremely limited use. The classes start at 6 p.m. so I get the train into to the city, but the timetable means I have a little hanging around after I arrived. This Monday it was a fine afternoon and I was twiddling my thumbs so I caught an earlier train and went for a mooch around the Castlefield area of the city.
Manchester originated in this area, as it was where the Romans established their fort and settlement of Mancunium. Although there is a reconstruction of the castle here, the area really developed during the Industrial Revolution becoming something of a transport hub of canals and railways.
The Bridgewater Canal, the first of the canals built during England’s Industrial Revolution was opened in 1765, bringing coal from Bridgewater’s coal mines at Worsley into the centre of Manchester. At Castlefield Junction the canal linked into a stretch of the River Medlock that had been incorporated into the canal and was used as the basin for the canal wharves. The Rochdale canal was also connected to the Bridgewater canal here in 1805. The first passenger railway between Liverpool and Manchester was opened in 1830 and terminated nearby in Liverpool Road. Later a number of other lines were built which crossed the canals in Castlefield on a series of bridges.
As the canals fell out of use and the warehouses closed the area became derelict, but renovation of some of the old buildings and redevelopment with construction of flats and offices, cafés and restaurants has re-energised what was a derelict area.
Although much of the area is visible from the train on the way into Deansgate station, it’s quite a few years since I’ve had a wander around the canals and since then there’s been a dramatic increase of the number of tower blocks in “Manc-hattan“.
I wasn’t going to go on the Wigan Ramblers October walk. It was scheduled for the date of the Rugby League Grand Final and I was optimistic that Wigan would be playing. The less said about that the better!
Disappointed, I contacted the Membership Secretary and managed to book a place on the coach for the trip starting from Disley in Cheshire. This has become familiar territory during the last couple of years, but it’s an area I like which is very quiet once you get away from the hub bub near the hall at Lyme Park and away from the “dog walking circuit” near Disley.
One of my reasons for joining the Ramblers walks is to enjoy some company, so, inevitably, I don’t end up taking as many photos as during a solo wander, so there’s only a few to illustrate this blog
The coach dropped us off near Disley station and we made our way along the quiet road to the park and then took the path up towards the Cage. We were following the route of the Gritstone Trail.
Due to it’s location on an elevated ridge above the Cheshire plain to the north, this distinctive building is visible for miles around.
it is known from extant records that the Cage was in existence by c1580; it was dismantled in 1734 and rebuilt in 1737. The construction date and purpose, however, of the original building are shrouded in mystery.
However, it is thought that it was intended as a hunting lodge or banqueting house. It also seems that in later years it was used as a residence for the estate’s gamekeeper, and that a small room was devoted to locking up poachers.
We carried on through the park through woodlands until we reached the moorland to the west, and then carried on along the Gritstone Trail route, first of all climbing up to Bowstones
then carrying on along the ridge to the summit of Spon Hill, where we stopped for our dinner break. Being at the highest point for a few miles, although the air temperature was unseasonably high, there was quite a wind blowing in the unsheltered spot and it felt quite chilly, especially when the sun went behind the clouds.
During this section of the route there were great views across the surrounding countryside.
After refuelling we retraced our steps back towards the Bowstones,
which an information board in front of them tell us that they are the shafts of two “Saxon” crosses. (Actually they’re Anglian rather than Saxon as the Angles settled in the northern part of England. The Saxons settled in the south and south east.)
We carried on down the minor road and then reaching the main road turned off taking paths through the fields. We were still on the Gritstone Trail, but following the alternate route for when Lyme Park is closed.
We continued on the route until we returned to Disley and the Rams Head.
This sculpture celebrating two local paralympic cyclists is on the green in front of the pub.
We’ll be back in this part of the world for our next walk which starts from Marple.
A couple of weeks ago I had a podiatry appointment – an annual check up. It was at the clinic in Worsley Mesnes, a couple of miles from home on the south side of town. It was fine early autumn day so I decided to walk there via the canal and the Flashes – an area of wetlands on the edge of town based around 8 shallow lakes formed due to subsidence caused by abandoned mine workings. Today the area has been turned into a Nature Reserve. Something of a peaceful haven only a short distance away from the hustle and bustle of the town centre.
A short walk across the housing estates and along Warrington Lane took me to the Leeds Liverpool canal and I set off down the towpath, turning off down the Leigh branch towards the Flashes.
A few years ago a road was constructed that cuts across the top of Scotsman’s Flash, the largest of the lakes. It’s meant to be part of a road linking the M6 to the M62 for traffic to avoid driving through the busy roads in the town centre. However it stops well short and now acts as a bypass, but locals refer to it as “the road to nowhere” as it doesn’t really go anywhere.
After passing under the bridge that carries the road over the canal, I reached Scotsman’s Flash. At the weekend and during the holiday period there’s a good chance that you’ll see yachts or canoes out on the lake as there’s a Watersports Activity Centre on its shores. Nothing today though, although I passed a few anglers as I carried on down the canal.
I also passed a boat moored up by the towpath. It was quite different tot he ones we usually see on the canal. It looked more like those that you see in Amsterdam.
I had limited time to spend wandering around the wetlands as I didn’t want to miss my appointment, so at the end of Scotsman’s Flash I crossed over the canal bridge to the other side and started to make my way back towards town on the other bank.
There’s that boat again from the other side of the canal.
I passed Pearson’s Flash. Not a lake for watersports but in the winter a haven for migratory waterfowl. It was a little early in the year for them, though.
At the end of the flash I joined the path alongside the “road to nowhere” to make my way to the Health centre and my appointment. Afterwards it was getting close to tea time so headed back home via the canal.
I’d enjoyed the walk. I don’t tend to come down here too often these days. I visited more frequently when I used to cycle as there’s a good network of paths on flat land away from traffic. I’ll have to return soon, on a fine day in winter when the migratory birds have returned. There’s 10km of paths to explore in a landscape scarred by mining now returned to nature.
On the Wednesday, a couple of weeks ago – the day of the Autumn Equinox – my friend, Jacqui, who lives in the Peak District and with whom I meet up in the National Park for a walk from time to time, came over to see my neck of the woods. It had been raining during her journey over on the train and when I picked her up from Horwich parkway Station, the tops of the moors were hidden in cloud. However, we were lucky as when she arrived the cloud began to clear and the weather improved during the day ending up quite bright and sunny. We plan our walks a few weeks in advance yet it always seems that we have decent weather! I never take so many photos when I’m walking with friends as we’re usually too busy talking, so there’s fewer in this post than normal.
There were plenty of routes we could have taken for a walk on the moors, but she had an Advance ticket with the return journey just after 4 o’clock, so our options were a little limited. However, I particularly wanted to show her Rivington Pike and the Terraced Gardens, so I drove over to “Rivi” and parked up on the driveway between the two barns.
After booting up we set off along the bottom of the Pike and then took the paths that climbed up the dramatic Ravine that had bee created by Thomas Mawson as part of the Terraced Gardens.
We passed through the Japanese Garden and made our to the top of the Pike. The cloud had cleared and there were great views across the moors.
After taking in the views we headed towards the Pigeon Tower and started our descent through the gardens.
It was 12:30 by the time we reached the Hall Barn so we found ourselves somewhere to sit by the car park.
Refreshed and refuelled we walked to the village and the dam between Rivington Reservoirs, and took the path along the Upper reservoir and then went along Yarrow Reservoir, with the view over to Winter Hill and the Pike. After the summer heatwaves the water level was, not surprisingly, quite low.
We headed to Parson’s Bullough and then took one of my favourite paths up through the fields and then made our way down to Lead Mine Clough, taking the riverside path back down to Alance Bridge. From there. after a short walk along the minor road, we joined the path that crossed the fields to the east of Yarrow Reservoir and back to Rivington village. Then a short walk through the woods beside the Lower Rivington Reservoir to the smaller of the two barns, Great Hall Barn, where we were able to have a brew and a cake before making our way back to the car.
I dropped Jacqui off back at Horwich parkway in good time for her train. Another good day out. Next time she comes out this way, I’ll take her up on the wilder moors.
Another of the exhibitions at the Ruthin Craft Centre featured the work of a glass artist based in Denbighshire – Verity Pulford. It isn’t an exaggeration to say that I was stopped in my tracks when I caught a glimpse of her exhibition. She creates delicate structures inspired by lichens, mosses, and algae, as well as fungi, and the textures and forms of marine creatures, invertebrates, and coral, both freestanding and wall mounted sculptures from pâte de verre, cast and kiln-formed glass, often combining glass elements with carefully selected found objects, including preserved natural objects. Some, like her mushrooms and toadstools, figurative, but, most of her work is abstract, although inspired by nature.
On the way back home from Bodfari I didn’t travel by the shortest route. Instead I took the road to Ruthin as I wanted to visit the Ruthin Craft Centre. It’s a lovely little gallery with three galleries where they hold exhibitions, a shop, a café and a number of workshops used by artists. I’d checked out what was on and discovered that one of the artists being exhibited was Halima Cassell, a sculptor who was born in Kashmir but grew up in the North West of England. Her sculptures are complex geometric patterns in unglazed ceramic, bronze, stone, wood and cast glass. I’d first come across her work during a visit to the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery back in 2018. Since then I’ve seen exhibitions of her work at Manchester City Art Gallery in 2019 and Blackwell in 20233 and have come across her sculptures in various other galleries and sculpture trails since then. I’ve become quite a fan and I can easily spot her work as she has quite a distinctive style.
There were a good selection of her works on display, and it was interesting to see how her practice has evolved as she works with wood, glass and other materials in addition to ceramics. Here are some pieces I particularly liked
Small slices of ceramics mounted in frames for wall display
A sinuous wood carving
I loved the colour of this ceramic sculpture. Notice the two gold “streams” embedded in the work. This suggests that it might have been damaged during firing. Cassell uses a Japanese technique in such cases, where gold is used to fill the cracks, thereby turning a potential disaster into a creative work of art.
The main reason for my short stay in Bodfari was to get up on the Clwydian Hills. I planned a circular route around the Offa’s Dyke Path that would take me over two of them, both part of the chain of Iron Age Hill Forts that were built on the range. Walking solo, though, I was able to change my plan as I went. Leraning from the OS map that there was a blockage at a crucial point on the route which would have resulted in a lengthy diversion on minor roads at low level, and enjoying the views high up and not really wanting to descend and walk through a substantial stretch of forest, I ended up making the decision to retrace my steps on a liner “there and back” route. I know a lot of walkers can be quite obsessive about avoiding there and back walks, but I’m not that bothered, to be honest. I was enjoying the views from the ridge. The light was quite flat for most of the day, so although visibility was good, it wasn’t great for photos, but I took some anyway; I always do.
Any way, here’s the route I took mainly on the Offa’s Dyke trail.
Leaving the village I crossed over the main road and was then mainly walking on quiet lanes before climbing over a stile and stating the climb onto the hills, initially through fields,
and then onto a bridleway contouring on the hillside amongst the bracken. I couple of horse riders passed me coming from the opposite direction.
The track dipped down into a valley and then started to climb again, passing a small group of buildings.
I was soon climbing up through the heather towards my first objective, Penycloddiau (try saying that!).
This hill, with a large flattish summit plateau used to be a massive Iron Age hill fort, one of the biggest in Wales, covering 26 hectares (64 acres).
Approaching the summit the banks and ditches, that were part of the fort’s defences, were clearly visible.
There’s evidence of Bronze Age activity up here too and at the start of the plateau there was a reconstruction of a burial mound from that era.
Although lagrely a windy, overcast day, the views up on the top were extensive. I could see right over to the Eryri mountains and could even work out what most of the peaks were likely to be.
After a brief stop to admire the views, I carried on along the Offa’s Dyke path.
To reach it, I had to descend through woodland on a narrow path with a fairly steep drop on my right. At the bottom there was a car park and a very narrow minor road to cross (I wouldn’t like to meet one of those monstrous panzer SUVs coming the other way driving along there). The path then started to climb very steeply up the hill.
To reach the summit, I had to turn off the Offa’s Dyke trail onto a path that climbed up the last metres,
with defensive banks and ditches visible.
Again, superb views in every direction.
Lookingsouth along the ridge towards Moel Famau
The view to the north over Penycloddiau and Moel y Parc towards the sea
Over the Vale of Clwyd towards the mountains of Eryri
I retrace my steps back down the hill and then reclimbed up through the woods towards Penycloddiau. I took a slight diversion on a path along one of the ditches before climbing back to the recreated burial mound and the start of the descent back towards Bodfari.
Moel y Parc with it’s aerial- I could have diverted up to the summit but left that for another day.
Looking towards Bodfari and Moel-y-Gaer
I thoroughly enjoyed the walk, even though the weather hadn’t been quite as good as I hoped. It was overcast, with only the occasional spell of sunshine and quite windy on the ridge, but it hadn’t rained and long range visibility was good.
Reaching my accommodation late afternoon, I sat out in the garden with a brew and a book for an hour or so.
After tea I spent the evening reading and watching TV.
It had been an enjoyable short break and I was tempted to stop another day. However, I decided against it (the weather was due to deteriorate) and left the next morning. There are more walks and hills to climb near here so I reckon I’ll be back again.
A walk when I passed through Sodom, but didn’t get turned into a pillar of salt
Bodfari is a tiny place. A few clusters of houses, a school, a pub and a church. I was staying in a small terrace of cottages, originally occupied by workers in the local haematite (iron oxide) quarry, which used to be a little further up the road towards Tremerchion. The cottage was next door to the former Rectory, which was next to the village church, Saint Stephen’s.
After I’d settled in I decided I’d get out for a walk.
I started by climbing the hill behind the cottage on a path that ran beside the church graveyard. The tower is medieval but the rest of the church was remodelled by, who else, but the Victorians, although there are some original features.
Climbing the hill I got a good view over to Moel y Parc, the nearest of the bigger hills of the Clwydian hills and southwards along the range.
I passed through the Coed y Llan (Church Woods) – there were a few tricky steep bits along the path – emerging onto the hillside that leads up Moel-y-Gaer, one of six Iron Age hill forts on the Clwydian hills. Although there’s a couple of videos I’ve seen on You Tube where it’s climbed, the summit is privately owned and the owner has cracked down on it, so the summit was out of bounds. Reaching the woods below the summit there was no access so I had to take the path around them, emerging into another field. I was following a clear right of way marked on the map, but reaching the gate at the end of the field I found that it had been “adapted”, tied up with rope, so it couldn’t be opened. I retraced my steps up the path to see if I’d made a mistake and missed another gate or stile, but no, the path went through the gate. Unable to open it, and not wanting to have to go back to where I started. I had my pen knife with me and considered “liberating” the route but decided against doing that and I climbed over it. I double checked the map and there was definitely a right of way that went through it. Not only that, according to the map I was on the route of the Offa’s Dyke path (llwybr Clawd Offa in Welsh). A hostile land owner by the looks of it.
Keeping to the Offa’s Dyke path I continued climbing through fields until the trail joined a minor road that continued to climb. I was now in Sodom, a small hamlet of scattered houses and woodland. Goodness knows how it got that biblical name. I tried searching on the web to no avail. I was in staunch Methodist country so perhaps, in the past, the chapel goers considered the original inhabitants of the area to be extremely sinful. I don’t know about the current locals.
Having safely navigated Sodom (no Gomorrah fortunately) I emerged on the open hillside. Looking back I had a good view of the forbidden heights of Moel-y-Gaer, the remains of the defensive earthworks clearly visible.
Looking west, I could see the silhouettes of the high mountains of Eryri
and northwards I could make out the coast, including the Orme at Llandudno.
I continued on the Offa’s Dyke path, through fields now, climbing for a while before descending down to a gate. This time I didn’t have to go through as I turned off the trail to join a Cilffordd, which is Welsh for Byway. There was a sign to that effect pointing down the track and, in fact, I’d seen another one further back on my route. These byways can be used by motorised vehicles although the one I was walking on was rough and definitely not fit for normal traffic. I guess they’re used by the off road drivers and trail bikes. Luckily I didn’t encounter any during my walk.
The track eventually joined a minor road which which I joined heading in the direction of Bodfari.
It was the Bodfari to Tremerchion road and if I continued on it would have reached my cottage. However, after a while I turned up a side road and after a short distance joined a path through the fields that skirted the bottom of the Moel-y-Gaer woods. There was a sizeable herd of cattle in the field, including calves. I was a little nervous passing through here, particularly as several calves were standing right next to the fence and I would have have to pass between them and their mothers further down the hill. Fortunately the calves, seeing me coming, bolted down the hill, so I wasn’t faced being charged by angry cows.
I reached the path I’d taken earlier up from the cottage and headed back down. When I reached the churchyard wall a young couple coming up asked me whether I’d seen a bull in the field I’d come through. I told them I hadn’t, although warned them about the calves. They’d been told there was a bull in the field. I hadn’t seen one but I wouldn’t rule out that there had been one – it’s allowed for them to be in a field with a right of way passing through providing they’re with a herd of cows and calves. I might have stuck to the Tremerchion if I thought that had been the case!
I decided to walk through the graveyard to take a closer look at the church before returning to my cottage.
The walk of almost five miles, with plenty of ups and a few downs, had set me up nicely for the longer walk on the hills I’d planned for the next day and had worked up an appetite ready for my tea (evening meal for any southerners reading this!)
Last week I booked myself a short break in North Wales for a couple of nights in Bodfari in amongst the Clwydian rage of hills. The small village is at the northern end of the range and I wanted to explore some of the hills around there. My check in was at 3 pm on the Sunday, but it was a fine day that I didn’t want to waste so, in the morning, I set of for Denbigh (Dinbych in Welsh) .
Denbigh was founded in the late 13th Century after the conquest of Wales by Edward 1 as a bastide – a fortified walled town with a castle, populated by English Immigrants. Although it’s been through the wars (literally) including the Wars of the Roses and the English Civil War, substantial remains of the castle and the town walls are still standing. The town outgrew the walls and a newer town was built down the hill. The older settlement was deserted, although today there’s houses inside the old town walls.
Having a Cadw membership allowed me to visit the castle without having to pay the entrance fee, and as it’s a long time since I was last in Denbigh it seemed like a good way to spend an hour or so. I mean, who can’t resist a good castle? (Well, lots of people, I’m sure, but I’m not one of them).
I parked up and made my way towards the gatehouse and entry.
Although it was “slighted” during the Civil War, with various parts of the walls and towers being demolished, and then “robbed” for building materials, the remains are still quite impressive. It was certainly a large fortress in its day
The town walls were once protected by four towers and two gatehouses, although only one of the gatehouses still survives. The castle and town’s gatehouse were constructed of decorative stonework, intended to symbolise royal authority and civic pride.
It’s possible to climb to the top of part of the battlements, from where there’s good views over the town and the surrounding countryside, including almost the full length of the Clwydian range of hills. I’d be climbing some of them the next day.
Looking down from the walls I could see the deep well that would have been a vital water source inside the castle, particularly during a siege, of which there were probably many.
In the distance, to the south, I could see a large complex of neo-Gothic style buildings.
This was the former Denbighshire Mental Hospital, built in 1844-8, to provide care for Welsh speaking people suffering from mental illnesses. It closed in 1995 and since then the abandoned site has fallen into a serious state of disrepair.
I first came across mention of the hospital in a book that I read last year – The Seasoning by Manon Steffan Ros, where one of the characters had been sent there. By all accounts it was pretty horrendous place.
After having a good look around the castle, I went for a wander to have a look at the town walls, some 1,100 metres long, much of which are still standing, and the “new town”.
Standing outside the castle, and inside the old Medieval walls, is a tower, the only remains of Saint Hilary’s Chapel, the town’s original place of worship, built in the 14th Century.
The Burgess Gate and tower was one of the main entrances into the walled town
I made my way down the steep Bull Street to High Street. There were some interesting old buildings, including the library, originally the County Hall, built in 1572.
Outside the library there was a statue of Henry Morton Stanley, of “Doctor Livingstone I presume” fame, who was born in the town.
Being a Sunday most of the shops were shut, but the main street, like most town centres these days, was looking run down with the shops now mainly bargain stores, nail bars and the like, so I started to make my way back up the hill along Broomhill Lane, a narrow passageway
lined with art works, including poems written on the wall, sculptures, and even decorative manhole covers, based on Denbigh’s heritage or stories from the Mabinogion.
The lane led back to the Burgess Gate.
I still had a few hours before I could access my accommodation in Bodfari, a short drive from Denbigh, so reaching my car I booted up and set off for a walk in the countryside to the southwest of the town.
The first half of the route, based on a “Community Walk” took me through woodland alongside the river and then up out of the valley and through fields back to the town.
Once out of the woodland there were excellent views over to the Clwydian Range of hills
The final stretch of the walk took me through fields of maize and then I made my way through the streets of the town back up the hill to the castle and my parked car.
Last Saturday was the start of three days of walking. The first walk was the easiest. Being the first Saturday of the month I was off with the Ramblers for the regular coach ramble. This time we disembarked near Bolton-le-Sands for a walk along the Lancaster canal and then along the shore of Morecambe Bay towards Carnforth. It was definitely the easiest walk I’ve done with the Ramblers. It’s flat country around there so there was negligible altitude gain and we avoided the muddy and marshy bits of the Bay shoreline.
On the Ramblers walks I don’t take as many pictures as I usually do as I inevitably spend quite a bit of the walk yapping. Well, I did join the group to meet new people after my retirement almost a year ago.
We started with a couple of miles along the canal towpath. This canal doesn’t have any locks so it was nice and level and gentle walking.
It does have some bridges, of course.
At Hest Bank we left the canal and made our way over the West Coast Mainline to the shore of Morecambe Bay. The tide was well out so we were looking mainly across sand and mudbanks over the bay towards Grange-over-Sands.
We stopped to refuel. Setting off again we hugged the shoreline. We didn’t want to strat to far into the bay which is notorious for its quicksands. Speaking of which, after a mile we reached this distinctive sculpture, The Praying Shell by Anthony Padgett
The sculpture overlooks the site where 23 Chinese cockle pickers working for criminal gangmasters died in 2004 when they were engulfed by the rapidly incoming tide during the dark. Although the sculpture wasn’t originally intended as a monument to the people who died but that is what it has inevitable due to the siting and design which combines a praying person with a giant cockle shell.
Unveiled in November 2013 and carved out of limestone, “The Praying Shell” overlooks the Morecambe Bay. The creator, artist Anthony Padgett stated that the sculpture was designed to inspire walkers venturing along the bay. Padgett said this about the sculpture, “Its symbolism is intended to parallel humanity’s openness to a larger dimension and the way cockle shells open as the tide comes in.”
The 23 cocklers who died, and another 15 who managed to get ashore, were illegal immigrants. No doubt certain people who this last week have been dressing up in black with balaclavas hiding their faces, would have been happy to prevent them being rescued and see them drown. The emergency services and RNLI did their best to save them and I think most people would consider it the right thing to do. We stopped for a while by the monument and I think that most of our group were reflecting about the disaster sympathetically. I still hold on to the hope that that would be the case for most walkers who pass by here.
Time to move on. We didn’t stay long enough to see the cockle shell open – it would have been a long wait.
We carried on along the shore for a while but when we reached the point where we would have had to walk across the marsh, recently relished with rain, we turned off to continue across fields and along quiet country roads towards Carnforth, keeping our feet day.
An easy eight mile walk with good views and some variety, an opportunity to chat and a little time for reflection and contemplation. I enjoyed it.
