Day 8: Bakewell to Matlock

Last night we stayed in the hall (the pub being some way away) and had a sing-song, after which our chief coordinator elect thought he should demonstrate that his management style would enforce a new disciplinary regime.

Meanwhile former chief coordinator Patrick laid down the law with John in his usual style (see later for the current coordinator's style...).

Anyway, this morning we had a bit of a lie in (though you did need a little extra time to walk all the way to the loos and showers).  Claire, who'd joined us last night and was neither sufficently exhausted nor immune to the nocturnal noises of pilgrims, penned a new verse for "To be a pilgrim":

Whoso beset him round with dreadful snoring,
Snores that vibrate the ground, and shake the flooring:
No airbed shall him fright, though creaking in the night,
He will make good his right, to be a pilgrim.

Then it was time to leave Lady Manner's School and head down into Bakewell town.

Our first stop, just before the bottom of the hill, was the parish church of All Saints, very peaceful before a deal of confusion arose over the location of the necessary equipment and personnel for our shared eucharistic service.

Confusion resolved, the service got underway. In the middle we had a the ministry of healing, with the laying on of hands...

... and the anointing of forehead and hands with oil.

The service was followed by tea, coffee and juice in the parish room (the newark, as in "new work" - several hundred year ago) before we set out through Bakewell town (with pilgrims disappearing in all directions, to banks, pharmacies, and purveyors of puddings). We then climbed back out of the town.

But what goes up must come down, on a slightly tricky stoney path.

Of course, altitude means views.

Just before luch we had an "unofficial" stop at St Katharine's Church, Rowsley, where they display this fragment of a 7th century cross. (It's also where Lady Manners is buried).

I told you earlier that evidence of the current management style would follow: Sue, having stolen Mike's dessert, has developed a hunchback.

Just as we were about to leave the pub the rain started, and those remaining pilgrims huddled under umbrellas, unsure whether or not to don waterproofs.

And then we were off again - meteorological indecision still persisting.

The indecision continued into the woods.

I thought we'd get some train pictures for "Jules the Steam", but as we approached the railway we got to this point and turned right, and subsequent views were obscured by trees.

Not all pilgrims are totally relaxed about being photographed, and one who made Stephen a "peace offering" yesterday was learning how to deal with the paparazzi. Can you identify the shy pilgrim?

At St Helen's, Darley Dale, we thought the bells were ringing to welcome us but it was just a group on a "tower tour". Sadly the church itself was locked.

So we had our prayers in the next field, using the wall as a stone pew, where we could hear ourselves over the peal of bells.

Claire gave a moving talk on her encounters with prayer.

Then as one the pilgrims rose and set out across the field.

Typical English summer Saturday - cricket and drizzle!

We passed another pub with an adjacent campsite - this one host to the Jawa motorcycle owners' club.

We then followed the river steadily into Matlock - not an unpleasant walk by any means, but surprisingly unphotogenic. Through Matlock itself the riverside walk was broader as it passed a boating pond, and miniature railway.

But there was a sting the tail - the school we are staying in is up a hill! Although it had only been a short walk, this was a bit of a challenge for many who'd switched into "we're there" mode.

In fact, although we "were there", there was more walking (and more hills) to follow, as we descended into the town to join the parishioners of Our Lady & St Joseph church for their Saturday evening Mass, where we led the music, then had to climb the hill back to the school.