The Art of Being a Passenger

Winnats Pass

With Aimes back in sunny Oz sorting a new visa, I had contemplated sitting around the house feeling sorry for myself for two weeks, that was until the possibility of a couple of trips to the NORTH (as the motorway signs like to refer to it) proved sufficiently pursuasive to get me off the lounge and into the back seat of a car. As being carless, I was reliant on the generousity of my middle class conservative firends (ie. Ains and Roh) for a lift, which fortunately they were kind enough to offer. The first trip, in deference to the Bank Holiday, was to the Peak (not Peaks) District in Derbyshire, selected due to its approximate equidistance between London and Beverley, home of the recently returned Kate and Andy.

The Pennine Way

As always, the best part about driving (or even passengering) on a British Motorway are the services (ie. truck stops) which are an opportunity to interact with people from a broad cross section of society, perhaps evidenced by the ubiquotous pokie rooms which are always passed first on entering.

The pub

Being a bank holiday it was inevitable that it would be rainy and cold, however I was a little dissappointed with the seriousness that the weather-gods were taking it, as daytime temperatures droppped to single figures and it seemed there wasn't more than one hours respite from the constant drizzle for the whole 3 days. The down jacket, which had been put away for the summer, even got a run. Still this once again provided an oppotunity for the British people, and in particular their ramblers, to prove their resiliance, as the countryside of the Peak was alive with walkers paying scant regard to the inclement conditions. I guess you would never leave the house if you were soft like us, but I was more than happy to spend the majority of the weekend in a pub with an ale in one hand and a massive chip butty in the other.

Rohie enjoying the Bank Holiday weather

Fortunately, this is how the weekend began for me, as arriving at the Royal Oak, our accomodation for the weekend at about 11:45, we only had to wait 15 minutes before opening time and the first ales of the day. With Kate and Andy arriving soon after and a fair bit of catching up to be done, it wasn't surprising that this was the first of a few, and that it was a bit of a struggle to get us out of there for a walk... we did manage to drag ourselves along the Penine Way, a disused rail line for a couple of hours, although you wouldn't call it particularly strenuous... Afterwards we reaquainted ourselves with the bar, feeling the need to sample a few more of the regions ales (and on my part indulging in my new found love of offal related meals).

The weather

The queue

The "cave"

Next morning the weather hadn't changed, considering this we decided that the anticipated walking was off the agenda and instead decided to check out a few of the areas caves. After a breakfast consisting of the cholesterol charged traditional full-english in Haver???, we decided to give Speedwell Cavern a shot, however before this we had to engage with the British love of the queue, standing in the elements for a good couple of hours before decending into the "cave".

Sampling some more of the north's finest at the Fox Hole

"Cave" as it would probably be better described as what it was - a mine shaft, which although accessed via a boat, didn't exactly live up to the expectations we had been developing over the previous couple of hours standing in the rain. At least it was dry, slightly warmer than outside and out of the wind. Perhaps the most dissappointing part of the experience was that we didn't have time to see another of the caves named the Devils Arse, with its obvious appeal...

Darting up at the Royal Oak

After the excitement of the cave we took a bit an extended drive around the more rugged northern part of the Peak, with its impressive moors and the ever present hardy souls walking amongst them. As you do, we found the time for a couple more stops at remote pubs to make sure their fare was up to standard and dined at Andy's favourite the Fox Hole (which reportedly had been recently done up, although I suspect he is a closet gastro-pub lover). As always the highlight of a country pub being the fact that people are often outnumbered by dogs! back to the Royal Oak for a few more pints and a couple of games of darts, did i meantion i'm trying to assimilate?

Monday wasn't much flasher than the previous two days, we breakfasted in Bakewell (home of the Bakewell Tart, not Tarts) wandered around the market, tempted frostbite before deciding to get on the road back to London.

Beers on the River Ouse

After barely having had time to reaquint myself with the delights of the tube, crowds and pollution, another weekend rolled round and it was time to hit The North for the second time in a week. This time we were headed to Beverley in Yorkshire, home of Kate and Andy. So it was back on to the M1, again stretching the friendship of Ains and Roh as I reaquainted myself with their backseat. Feeling a distinct sense of dejavu, we decided to live on the edge and not breakfast at the same services two saturdays in a row, and instead stuck it out for a whole extra 10 miles...

More beers on the Ouse

After not too long we arrived in Beverley, where we found a very busy Saturday Market, in a beautiful town, with a main street crowded with Bakers but somewhat devoid of Wine Shops. We headed around to Kate and Andy's for a bit before heading into York to make the most of the unsurprisingly sunny afternoon (being the weekend after a Bank Holiday and all). Being with locals we did waht locals do, got about drinking a few beers at the many pubs along the River Ouse. In between pints we managed to check out a few of the sights including the Minster, Clifford's Tower, and the Shambles.

The frequently flooded Kings Arms

Next day after seeing the Humber Bridge (we were all engineers), it was Kate and Andy's welcome home/reception for people who couldn't make it to Australia function in a manor near their place. The highlight of the very impressive meal being the first decent Yorkshire pudding I've had over here...

Kate and Andy's reception

So two weekends in a row of travelling up the M1 to the NORTH, and I was getting pretty used to being a passenger and for the first time in a while was starting to regret not having wheels of our own...