You don't have to go far to find walking opportunities in the West Hallam area.

Two days running we went to Shipley Country Park. With 700 acres and 18 miles of paths, there's certainly scope for multiple visits, and the crowds of a fine March weekend were easily absorbed.

On Saturday, we drove over, met up with rellies for a walk, and profited from the unseasonably warm weather to have lunch outside at one of the cafes. On Sunday, we walked directly from West Hallam, just the two of us, and it was noticeably cooler, but still warm enough for coffee in the open air. (It has been such a pleasure to be able to enjoy food and drink outside, after so many weeks of chilly weather combined with an ongoing disinclination to eat in, given that covid case numbers are still disconcertingly high here.)

This estate has actually reverted to its original purpose. It was recorded in the Domesday Book as an ancient manor belonging to the nephew of William the Conqueror, and in the 14th century as a sporting estate and hunting lodge. From the mid-16th century, however, coal mining was increasingly playing a role in determining the landscape and providing revenue, and by the early 18th century, this activity was thriving. Originally run by the Miller Mundy family, who owned the estate, the mines passed to the Shipley Colliery Company in 1920, and were nationalized in 1947.

All this came to a close in the 1960s, when the last of the mines was deemed uneconomic. What remained were spoil heaps and mine shafts, dereliction and pollution. The Derbyshire County Council, with admirable foresight, then decided to turn the area into a country park, as "a suitable memorial to mining in the area", and it was duly opened in 1976.

Not every venture has succeeded. Part of the land was given over in the 1980s for use as a theme park. When this failed, it was replaced by another enterprise (that "Britannia Park" was replaced by "The American Adventure", and that both came to grief, does have a certain symbolic resonance...)

On our Saturday visit, we walked past this area, now cleared of theme park. One part still lies vacant, while another is already transforming itself into the Shipley Lakeside housing development (beware, because the ongoing building work has closed some of the tracks).

But there's lots that's interesting:











It was a colder, duller day for our Sunday expedition, with moody skies and lots of dew:








The Shipley estate had long boasted some sort of great hall. As is the way of these things, there had been lots of pulling down and rebuilding and renovating, but by the end of the 19th century, it was really quite a fine place. When Godfrey Miller Mundy sold the estate to the Shipley Colliery Company, however, he sounded the death knell for the big house: "Up until this time, the Miller Mundy family had made sure that the colliery company had left a huge pillar of coal untouched underneath their Hall, but now the company had no compunction in mining this seam. Within a short time, the Hall was suffering the major effects of subsidence." It was demolished in 1943, and all we have now are the remnants -- and some postcards and plans.






From there to the village of Mapperley...


... then home via a few field paths.

If I'm honest (and when is PT not honest?), I'm a little over field paths...

So many stiles... And so big... I feel a bit like a pit pony faced with Becher's Brook... And every stile boasts one or several of the following features:

1. a large sucky swamp
2. a tippy plank, adding an unpleasant seesaw element to your stile experience
3. a vicious thorn bush, which stands ready to rip your expensive new waterproof to shreds as you negotiate the climb up and/or climb down
4. a very narrow gap at the bottom, such that your muddy walking boot (see 1) is bound to come into contact with the trousers that you now have to change every day

Sometimes there's a gate rather than a stile. Gates can still come with swamps and thorn bushes, and they usually contain springs the strength of which would do honour to any bit of gym equipment.

After a field-heavy walk yesterday, I was up for something a little more demure today. So, again setting out on foot from our house, we walked some lanes that led back to Mapperley.

In 1895, the village was described as "small and chiefly inhabited by colliers". (And it's also good to know that "letters, via Derby, arrive at 6.30 am, and are despatched at 7.30 pm, week days only", and that Postal Orders are "issued but not cashed".)

We rather sniffily didn't photograph Holy Trinity, Mapperley, which was opened in 1966, but it's interesting that its predecessor closed in 1959 on account of the effects of subsidence from the mines...





We finished off with decadent drinks back in the garden at the Bottle Kiln: