Moors, Markets, Mills and Middle Earth

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Here it is, the end of another working week and we've just arrived home from dinner at the local pub. We are currently in Holcombe Brook which is just near Ramsbottom and part of Bury Council. It's also where Terry was born and lived for his first five years, although he spent the next ten years about 3 miles down the road in Bury. The way that I think of this area is that Manchester is the equivalent of Melbourne, Bury is a bit like Frankston and Ramsbottom/Holcombe Brook is sort of like Mornington and Mount Martha. We quite like it here and so we are using it as an opportunity for Terry to get over his cold. We are also waiting for a package of tickets to arrive but so far no luck - hopefully first thing next week. What seemed such a good decision before we left home isn't looking so good now.

Our first day here was last Tuesday and weather-wise it was a lovely day; the best day that we've had since we've been in the UK and so we used the opportunity of fine weather to go for a walk on the moors. We started from our B&B and walked up the lane to remnant woods know as Redisher Woods. These were very pleasant with old oaks lining the paths and a stream running through the woods. There were quite a few people walking their dogs, or at least following along behind their dogs. The dogs were having a ball, running along the muddy trails and then into the stream to cool off. No white, fluffy dogs here but real dogs - all gun dogs (Labs, English Spaniels, Vizslas). The dogs knew all the trails and I received the impression that they did this every day. Once we left the woods it was a steep climb up the flanks of Holcombe Hill. We walked through fields of sheep and eventually reached a part of the hillside that was covered in heather. Whilst having a breather and enjoying the view a "Greengrass"-like shepherd came down the hill with his 2 sheep dogs; the dogs were theoretically moving the sheep from one field to another. They were also enjoying themselves because they would chase the sheep (despite the shepherds calls and whistles) and then round them up again. We eventually made our way further up Holcombe Hill to Peel Tower. Peel Tower is a monument to Sir Robert Peel who was a Bury boy before establishing the Metropolitan Police Force and later on becoming PM. From Peel Tower it was all down hill into Ramsbottom via the Shoulder of Mutton pub (once used for cock fighting), Holcombe village and its church and graveyard. Ramsbottom is an old mill town (cotton) with beautiful old stone buildings and rows of stone houses. I can imagine that it all looked pretty dismal 60 years or so ago but most of the stone buildings have been cleaned and are now a very attractive cream colour. There are still a few "black" builidngs around that provide a bit of an idea of what it must have been like when the atmosphere was more polluted than it is today. I suspect that there's also been a fair amount of demographic change because the village is definitely not the working class village that Terry grew up in. It wasn't a long walk but given that we both had colds it was as much as we could cope with.

Wednesday's weather was interesting. The Met Office was forecasting cold, wet and windy weather and so we decided it was a day to go into Bury, visit its famous market, try and locate Terry's Bury house and do some washing. We'd passed through this area 11 years ago and Terry was a bit disappointed that he couldn't recognise anything and so part of the reason for this part of our holiday was so he could have a good look around. Thanks to the GPS we drove straight to the house and had a walk around the neighbourhood. As you can imagine there were numerous changes - for instance his sister was married in a church that was just down the road and that is now a small Tesco supermarket. After that it was a search for a laundromat (they are few and far between) and the rivetting time that waiting for the washing to complete entails followed by a walk around the market. Most of our overseas trips are punctuated by regular trips to the local markets to purchase seasonal fruits and some of the local delicacies. To be honest I was disappointed by the market. It was mainly cheap clothing, shoes, phones etc but there were a few delies, a meat and fish hall but no fruit and veg. When we left the market the predicted weather had arrived; it was pouring, thundering and we could see plenty of lightening.

Yesterday (Thursday) was mill day. This part of the UK was the centre of the cotton weaving industry during the 19th and early 20th centuries with the mechanisation associated with the Industrial Revolution allowing the industry to move from small home-based weaving setups to large factories. The mill (museum) that we visited yesterday was actually 2 mills. The older mill was built in 1789 and used as a woollen mill. It had a large internal water wheel which was used to power the fulling stocks - the fulling stocks used urine to shrink the woven woollen cloth to a heavier quality felt. The newer mill was built in 1820 and was used in cotton manufacture. The mills were in operation until 1978 but the bloke who owned them was something of a scrooge and never threw anything out, nor did he ever upgrade the machinery. When the museum trust took over the place they found every dead light bulb that had ever been replaced; apparently he kept them all in the hope that one day they would be repairable. The advantage of his peculiar behaviour was that he had a mill full of historic machinery which has now been turned into a very interesting museum.

Today we went a little further afield to a town called Clitheroe in a region called the Ribble Valley. Clitheroe is a pretty town of about 15,000 and dominated by a 12th Century Norman keep. There isn't much left of the keep but there are great views from it over the surrounding area. Close by is a large hill known as Pendle Hill which is famous as it was the home of the Pendle Witches. These were 10 woman and 2 men who were tried for witchcraft and hanged in August 1612. The region is also famous for its links with JRR Tolkien and his "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. Apparently the countryside around Clitheroe provided the inspiration for Hobbiton and The Shire. While writing the novel Tolkien spent periods visiting at nearby Stonyhurst College and frequented the Shireburn Arms pub. I couldn't get into Tolkien when I tried to read "The Hobbitt" as a teenager but maybe it's time to give him a try again.

We've decided to stay here for quite a few more days and so we've been upgraded to a much nicer room. It's heaps bigger and looks out over the gradens/countryside rather than the car park. Tomorrow we plan to visit the Ramsbottom Farmers Market (the village is known for its handmade chocolate these days) and ride the East Anglia Railroad. Hopefully we'll get to do some more walks on following days.

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Photos

Terry on the road to Manchester
You can see the skyline of Manchester from the hills in the region.

Holcombe Hill and Peel Tower
View from the B&B

Spinning mules
They used to use small children (6 y.o.) to sweep up under the machinery as the mechanism went backwards and forwards. It goes quite quickly.

Views that inspired Tolkien
Taken from the Shireburn Arms pub at Hurst Green

Stonyhurst College
This is a co-educational Catholic day and boarding school. The hall was built by the Shireburn family and descendents donated the building to the Jesuits in 1794 for use as a school. They moved an existing school from Liege to here in 1794 because it was beseiged by the French Revolutionary Army.