More of the Moors, Please...

After a day walking about the Dark Peak section of the Pennine Ranges, I have come to the conclusion that Heathcliff of Wuthering Heights fame was on to a good thing: to wander about the moors is actually a pretty nice occupation, thank you very much. While Emily Bronte scripted Heathcliff and the moors as having brooding and mysterious qualities, our experience was quite the opposite. Bathed in brilliant sunshine, the upland moors between Manchester and Sheffield were a canvas for all things green, lush and earthy.

A train from Manchester ferried us up to Edale, a tiny hamlet of stone buildings with a church and a few pubs. A myriad of walks, strolls, hikes and rambles emanate from Edale - it was just a matter of us deciding how energetic and adventurous we felt. True to form, Kel and I settled on the 'ridiculously-fit-and-overly-ambitious" option, a 19-kilometre epic that nearly circumnavigated the entire valley and, fittingly, ended in a beergarden.

Our walk included a scramble up a narrow rocky gully, an encounter with a pair of red-grouse (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Grouse) and the spectacle of a nervous mountain biker flipping over his handle bars during a tricky descent. After a week working in the urban jigsaw of the city, the sensation of open space was delicious. Although we were by no means alone in our wanderings, there were a few moments of solitude which have been burned into the memory banks.

The Edale area sits within the Peak District National Park, which itself is about 30 minutes drive for millions of Northerners. You'd expect the place to be overrun with people, given its location, but I felt much more at ease here than in Chester. The landscape is not as physically imposing as the Blue Mountains or the Barrington Tops, but shares some of the 'rounded' hilltop characteristics that can be found in the Snowy Mountains. The dry stone walls are a treat, and the farm pastures particularly verdant for anyone who has grown up in an arid climate. To paraphrase Arnie Schwartznegger: "we'll be back".

Patrick the Perfect Kid!

Hey, it's Kel here...well I thought it was finally time to push Stolky aside and take some ownership of this blog!

Life for me has been quite relaxing, to say the least. I've feathered the nest (see pics of our basic home), read numerous books, had the luxury of many lie-ins, and run along the river Mersey most days, greeting fellow runners and dog walkers. All this pleasure has been the result of a delay in the processing of my teaching registration here in the UK. After a month of rest and recovery, I never thought I would say the words..."I want to get back to work"! Of course, if I were at home surrounded by family and friends, I don't think I would ever wish for this, but more £ means more travel!

Anyway, in my search for alternatives to earn money, I thought I would try my luck in the waitressing department, and was lucky to score a few stints in the upmarket 'Loch Fyne' seafood resturant. I also registered myself on the UK website 'Gumtree' for some work as a nanny during the school holidays.

After a few stints at the 'Loch Fyne', I realised that it was not the greatest pay and it also meant working late on weekend evenings...all of which are not conducive for weekend getaways with my husband!

As for the nannying work...that was a winner! I had the pleasure of spending a few nights and days during the mid-term school holidays hanging with Patrick the 11-year old British-born/Australian/Czech cricket fan and chef! We had a ball together. We filled our days playing cricket, Aussie rules, frisbee, and football (see pics). We also enjoyed bike riding along the canals and stopping off for a picnic in the park (see pics) and challenging each other to 'synchronised swimming' events in the local pool. I didn't find it necessary to include any pictures of my uncoordinated legs exiting the water in an attempt to perform an 'underwater handstand with a triple scissor kick manoeuvre'.

When the weather turned feral, which is rather common here in Manchester, we resorted to playing 'Manchester Monopoly' and 'Go Fish' cards....all of which I was annihilated by an 11 year old. Despite this, my biggest joy of the whole experience, was Patrick's passion for culinary delights. We baked mars bar cheese cakes, and in the words of Patrick,"fancied omelettes for lunch" and ate "gorgeous cheese". We shared cooking duties...I a basic chicken/tomato bake and Patrick a "potato gratin"! Who would have ever thought an 11 year old would love eating olives, anchovies, sardines and VEGETABLES! ...he does aspire to be the next Jamie Oliver, so look out.

Another bonus to stem from this fabulous job, was that Stolky and I were then invited back a week later to enjoy a family BBQ with the whole family. We learnt that they are actually heading to Sydney to live and work this September, and we may just buy their car for cheap. So all in all, Perfect Patrick turned out to be a good gig...money, food, friends and perhaps a set of wheels.

Ain't No Roman Wall High Enough

Chester might have the most complete city walls in all of Britain, but when the Romans constructed them they sure as heck weren't counting on an invasion by thirsty, sun-loving Scousers (Liverpudlians). Then again, neither were we.

Our first overnight excursion from Didsbury took us through rural Cheshire to this former Roman fortress (known as Deva Victrix), close to the Welsh border. It is very much a tourist town nowadays, a fact we naively brushed aside given that we had arrived on a bank holiday long weekend. Our trip coincided with a burst of English sunshine that sparked locals and visitors alike into a manic, irrational contest for the nearest outdoor table on the banks of the River Dee - seemingly to guzzle lager and bask like albino seals. I was terrified; the photo shows me rapidly searching our guidebook for clues to avoiding crowds of sunburnt Brits.

When we eventually escaped the riverside masses, I quite enjoyed our tour of the city's attractions. We wandered along sections of the wall and through a historic cobbled shopping district called 'The Rows', watched re-creations of Roman patrols and marvelled at the Chester Cathedral (see below). Just don't ask me to go back there on a public holiday...