31 July 2016 - Buxton Caravan Club Site, Derbyshire

Again with the question of weather first and foremost to mind, we were pleased to open the blinds to another fine day, although occasional showers were forecasted. We headed away from camp at about 10am, travelling south west on the A54 which followed the steep contour of the land up away from Buxton, up past Shutlingsloe which rises to 506 metres ASL  close to the road, then descended into Cheshire from the Peak District on equally steep roads five kilometres east of Congleton.  The road was surprisingly busy with sports cyclists, mad masochists undertaking such tortuous roads.

Our destination was Little Moreton Hall, about three miles south of Congleton; we realised we would be a little early for opening time so pulled into the Astbury Mere Country Park, the sign  appearing in an opportunistic manner. Here we parked and set off around a section of the lake, in the company of dozens of locals and their canine charges. 

Little Moreton Hall

The entry to the walkways is watched over by a rather incongruous plaster bear, painted with a landscape scene rather than the clothes you would expect, of course. He is “Sandy Bear” so named in memory of earlier bears of Congleton. Congleton’s nick name is “Bear Town” which originated in the Middle Ages when the cruel sport of bear baiting was popular and Congleton sold its precious Town Bible to buy a bear to replace one that had died. Sandy Bear was one of sixty five displayed in the “Bear Mania” event in Congleton in 2011. On the front it depicts what this site was like in the 1960s when it was a sand quarry.

After watching this great collection of exercising dogs and their potty owners, begrudgingly acknowledging that they were a well behaved lot, we continued on to Little Moreton Hall, recommended to us at another National Trust property and not on our original “to-do” list.

The Hall is one of the best examples of Tudor timber framed houses in the country and the least tampered with, which in itself is a small miracle. It is set within a small garden, surrounded by a moat, survived the Civil War, spent 250 years tenanted and remained in the ownership of the one family since it was built in the first decade of the 1500s by William Moreton through to being handed over to the National Trust in 1938. 

William’s son and grandson of the same name altered the house marginally, then it was leased out in the mid-1650s. The Moretons retained ownership but as landlords only. Then in the 1890s, Elizabeth Moreton, who had taken religious orders, but still a wealthy woman, the family through the centuries having made canny business decisions, side stepped the worst of the political upheavals and made some lucrative marriages, undertook major conservation work on the house. Dying childless, she left it to a cousin, whose son when his turn came about, was not prepared to take on the burden of such a heritage treasure. Public subscription was undertaken and a lot of juggling of legality and funds and the Trust ended up with this amazing property. They in turn built a new farm house, installed a tenant farmer and hopefully have been able to maintain the property without too much drain on the central slush fund.

We enjoyed the fifty minute introductory history talk then retreated to the car to have lunch, and dealt with emails, enjoying the internet reception of the lowlands. Back on site, we spent a further hour or so exploring the property, and although it is far far smaller than houses recently visited, it is still a fascinating place.

We headed back to Congleton and shopped at the Morrison’s Superstore, anxious that we do this before the Sunday 4pm curfew. I had plotted a route for the day, a loose schedule depending on the ability to find certain points of interest. I had hoped we might find the Macclesfield Canal somewhere between Congleton and Macclesfield, and we did after stopping an elderly gentleman for directions. 

Unfortunately the canal is immediately adjacent to the A523 which we were obliged to turn north onto, there was no parking spot within miles and as we arrived, a narrowboat was motoring through the narrow bridged section of the canal. We waited in a queue of traffic but then had no option but to continue on.

We followed the A523 onto Macclesfield, topped up with diesel and then started on our route home, the second more northern A537 back up through the Peak District. As we crossed a bridge on leaving the town we noticed the elusive Macclesfield Canal, pulled up and made our way down onto the towpath on foot. We had happened upon the “visitors’ marina” area, a rather utilitarian area below what seemed to be an old factory mill.

Macclesfield is a market town, with a population of over 52,000 back in 2011. It was once the world’s biggest producer of finished silk; there were seventy one silk mills operating in 1832. Macclesfield was also the original home of “Hovis” bread makers, a brand we frequently buy.

Between 1826 and 1831 the Macclesfield Canal was constructed, linking the town to Marple in the north and Kidsgrove to the south. It was the narrowest canal to be completed and had only limited success because within ten years much of the coal and other potential cargo was increasingly transported by rail. Macclesfield is said to be the only mill town left unbombed in World War II.

We passed a few words with canal folk, took a few obligatory photos then returned to the car, soon back on the road up through the peaks. 

A less pretty view of canal living at Macclesfield

Here, as the landscapes travelled earlier in the day, we found the high moors impressive, the roads winding, and we climbed slowly back toward Buxton, which we came down to after passing the seemingly isolated inn quaintly named the Cat & Fiddle at 515 metres. Buxton, the highest market town in England, sits at 300 metres ASL and our camp is above that height. Our trusty Kia had certainly done some climbing and descending today!

We will leave tomorrow morning for our next camp just to the north of Manchester. The distance is not great but the web of roads looks challenging on the map; I am sure that between Tomtom and I, we will be able to direct The Chauffeur without too much trouble. 

Buxton town itself remains an unknown to us, as do so many other places that were on our original list to visit. We had also imagined that we would spend days out walking through the “mountains”; none of this has eventuated. Sounds like a good reason to return, don’t you think?