Day 12. Bakewell to Winster.

For the next stretch of my ‘pilgrimage’, I’m booked into a B&B in Matlock. I won’t bore you with my travel logistics. These days, it is becoming more difficult to find accommodation in the smaller towns and villages. 

Where did merchants, drovers, and pilgrims, making lengthy journeys, stay overnight before the arrival of inns?  Before starting this walk, I had never heard of The Portway.

“There are several ‘portways’ in England, such as the route over the Long Mynd in Shropshire, but the Derbyshire Portway seems to be the longest and the best-researched. The route in Derbyshire was first suggested by Cockerton, a historian from Bakewell, in the 1930s, who based his idea of a long-distance route on a string of ‘port’ place names such as Alport and Alport Height, which can be linked together by existing tracks and paths. These place names are reinforced by references to a ‘Portwaye’ in some medieval documents and two Portway lead mines.  It seems clear that the word is Anglo-Saxon, and was applied by them to pre-existing, non-Roman routes.. A ‘port’ suggests a place of safety and shelter, so I think a portway was a long-distance route which had ‘ports’ for travellers at intervals of roughly ten miles. Sites where wayfarers could sleep, cook and graze their animals overnight. In Derbyshire, these are likely to have been on high ground for defence”

Stephen Bailey.  Old Roads of Derbyshire. 2019. 

An introduction from the book I’ve just been reading. Well, that adds another dimension to my walk. Again, like pilgrim routes, the portway is not defined precisely on any map, so my wanderings between significant Saxon religious sites can be combined with linking possible ‘ports’ together. They are likely to have had very similar routes.

I’m back in Bakewell for another four days ‘pilgrimaging’. As usual, I start the day with a coffee,  this time in the Graze café.

The church clock is striking 10 as I leave the hustle and bustle and start to climb steeply up Butts Road. They provide a handrail for the elderly,  and I make good use of it. At the top, there is a fresh breeze, so I’m hoping for cooler temperatures than of late. Alongside the cemetery, a gent is walking his dog. We stop to discuss the weather, and the conversation drifts to long-distance walking and eventually to climbing. He, in fact, moved here originally to be near the rocks. A pleasant interlude after the steep climb.

Suddenly, I’m out into rolling limestone country on a walled lane, and I feel I’m on an ancient route. A portway? Losing and gaining height as I go.

A short stretch on a road, and I spot the stile I’m looking out for. Pleased to be off the road, I enter a swaying sea of oats and, hopefully, by my passing, help to define the right of way. Skylarks are everywhere; it’s a glorious morning.

I reach the lane at Conksbury Bridge in Lathkill Dale. Across the way is the site of an abandoned Medieval village, but from here I can’t make out any features.

 Going down Lathkill Dale for a distance, I’m unable to access the stream. A man is picking raspberries from a particularly fertile patch, and I join him for a while. Last year, there was hardly any, but this summer is giving a bumper crop. Ice cream and fruit for him this evening.

Continuing downstream to Alport is an option, but I want to visit Youlgreave, it must be nearly 40 years since my two sons and I did a Limestone Loop around the Peak District, staying in YHAs. I remember the one in Youlgreave being at the top of a steep hill away from a river. My sons were convinced every youth hostel was at the top of a hill at the end of each day.

Youlgreave was mentioned in the Domesday Book. It increased in size in the late 18th century when lead mining prospered. It is now a magnet for visitors, thanks to narrow streets, interesting limestone properties, and charming cottages. The village street is hectic, far too narrow for the number of cars using it. 

All Saints Church dates back to the late 12th century, and I feel it would be best to dedicate a separate entry to my in-depth look around; otherwise, this post would become overly long. All I’ll mention here is a carving of a Norman traveller carrying his bag and shaft. Just like me.

The YHA is still here, looking as I remember it, but I don’t recall the cafe on the ground floor. Anyhow, I go in hoping for a pot of tea, but nobody is in a rush to serve me.

Wandering on, I reach the village fountain, which has an interesting history. A farmer’s daughter, a local spinster in her 70s. Hannah Bowman formed the Women’s Friendly Society of Youlgrave and had plans to bring water to the village. Previously, the villagers had to walk down to the valley for water. A 1,500-gallon capacity conduit was built in Youlgrave’s marketplace on the site of its ancient Saxon cross. At its opening in July 1829, the Derbyshire Courier voiced its approval: ‘The inhabitants of Youlgrave are rejoicing from at last having their anxious wishes realised by a salubrious spring of soft water being conducted to the village cross, where it now forms a beautiful radiated fountain discharging upwards of 10,000 gallons in 24 hours. The spring is as pellucid as crystal, almost equal in purity to distilled water. The cistern fills up overnight, and residents pay an annual charge of sixpence to use the splendid new facility”

It is still functional, owned and run by the villagers.

From the fountain, I take the lane down to the valley, where a clapper bridge spans the River Bradford. Lower down the river is proving popular with locals who, in this heatwave,  are enjoying paddling and swimming in the deeper pools created by the weirs.

By the lower clapper bridge I sit on a bench for a spot of early lunch before the climb out of the dale.

I’m not sure which way to navigate around Castle Ring at Harthill, marked by a red arrow above. The Bronze Age hill fort is on private land. This entire area, including nearby Stanton Moor, is characterised by numerous prehistoric circles and standing stones.

My choice is influenced by the fact that I’m now on the waymarked Limestone Way, last crossed in Miller’s Dale. So to the left we go, proving very pleasant in the shade provided by the stately beech trees.

I recognise the parking place on the road, which I’ve used many times for climbing at Cratcliffe. Despite being on the ‘Limestone Way’, this is gritstone country. Britain’s geology frequently baffles me. One of those stone circles can be seen by a tree in the fields below. Ahead are the twin rock pinnacles of Robin Hood’s Stride; the trees have grown since I was last here.

Let the Limestone Way wander on; I’m off to take a look at those climbs of old, and there is a Hermit’s cave to be found somewhere. There are voices in the trees. I’m hoping for some climbing action.  I get to enjoy some high-standard bouldering with friendly youngsters.

Everywhere seems overgrown as I try to find my way to the Hermit’s cave, but eventually, there it is. You can just make out the figure of Christ on the cross. 

https://derbyshireheritage.co.uk/curiosities/cratcliffe-hermitage/ gives a link to the Portway.

I peek around the corner at the imposing main crag. Did we really climb up there?

Below the rocks – everybody had a Hilary in their lives.

I find my way back to the Limestone Trail and begin the slow, now weary climb up Dudwood Lane, which is initially metalled, but soon becomes rough. 

Portaway Mine, presumably a lead mine, is marked on the map. 

One of those lovely stone squeeze stiles lead me into Winster through parkland..

There is a meeting of villagers in the church, St John the Baptist’s, so I won’t disturb them. The tower dates from 1721, and restorations to the body of the church were completed in 1885.

Today, the village is bedecked with bunting for its Wakes Week celebrations. I only have five minutes to spare before my bus.

“Lead mining, for which Winster was renowned, may have originated here in Roman times. The boom in mining from the late 17th century turned the village into a prosperous town, one of the largest in Derbyshire.

Historically, Winster was also a main crossing point for many roads and trackways, one of the most important being The Portway, an ancient trading route that passes close to the village. Salt routes from Cheshire came through the village, as did the main turnpike from Nottingham to Newhaven in later years.

With more than 70 listed buildings, Winster has one of the most impressive street scenes in Derbyshire, and the main street is an array of impressive buildings which merge with a jumble of cottages up the bank on the southern side. The Old Market Hall, which dates from the 17th century and is now owned by the National Trust, together with The Old Hall and Dower House, are particular highlights”

 I’m lucky to catch that bus as the roads have been closed for resurfacing until today.