Chatsworth Derbyshire 12-17 Mar 19

This time of the year is probably the only time that we can afford to go to the C&MC Site at Chatsworth, and even then the prices rose on Fri 15th to a rather eye watering £25.60 a night, probably the most we've ever spent on a camp site, especially in winter. In France you would pay that for a 5 star site in high season, complete with pool, shop, restaurant and bar! Still, it is a lovely site in a beautiful location, even if the crows are bloody noisy.

The Pheasant was there to welcome us

The weather forecast for the weekend was not particularly good, which was probably one of the reasons why we were able to get onto this popular site. We arrived on Tuesday after a bit of a blustery and wet drive up. We picked our pitch away from overhanging trees as the forecast had a yellow warning of wind, then set out to have a wander around the vicinity of the house and have a mooch around the rather nice shops and cafes they have created in the old stable block.

The secret door to the site from Chatsworth House Grounds

On Wednesday it poured with rain. We wandered into Baslow in the hope of finding a footpath through to the estate's farm shop at Pilsley but the roads were busy and fast and there were no off road paths to get there. Still, we had a good explore of the nice village, retuned to the van to dry off, have lunch, and then set out to explore the village of Edensor.

an odd gate, but she looks good behind bars.

Some of Capability Brown's finest work

It struck me as odd that John F Kennedy's sister's grave should be sullied by a brash marker stone announcing that her brother visited

Edensor

Thursday we were again thwarted in our attempts to navigate a circular route as there is a lot of private, inaccessible, land around the Chatsworth estate. We still managed to cram in quite a few foot miles exploring the extensive grounds of the estate and discovering the creative systems and engineering that supports the famous Chatsworth House Cascade.

On Friday we walked the 3.5 mile route to Bakewell. What we were not told, however, was that there is a pigging great hill between Chatsworth and Bakewell! Still, we soldiered on over the bump and down a muddy bridleway into the pleasant town where we discovered a fantastic sweetshop, a lovely pub (and pub lunch) and the delights of Bakewell Pudding. Fortified, the bump on the way back was much easier to handle, even given a couple of rucksacks worth of shopping (Prosecco is HEAVY!). By the time we arrived back, the site was filling up with lots of shed-draggers, taking forever to plant their wobble-boxes on their pitches. 

Short cut? It is marked on the map as a bridleway!

The following day it pee'd down all day, but as it was the final day of the 6 nations we spent the whole day listening to the rain and getting increasingly more disgruntled at the rugby. I don't think that she left the van once all day. 

Sunday was bright and clear and a good run back down the M1 and A14 to arrive home before lunch and start the washing and packing ready for the next outing.

Crystal Palace 6-11 Mar 19

Oh look, we are back here again. The site was due to close, but Bromley council have given a stay of execution for another year. It does mean, however, that there will be no investment in the site and the ablutions really could do with a  spruce up. 

Anyway, arrived on the Wednesday, relaxed and on Thursday it was out early to visit the Royal Hospital Chelsea and the National Army Museum before visiting mother for dinner that evening. The Royal Hospital is a great place to visit - and the café does sell some scrummy cake! The National Army Museum has been modernised since my last visit and has been somewhat sanitised in order to appease the easily upset little snowflakes that seem to inhabit this country. Shame really, but it is still a good day out. We then caught the bus in order to get a better view of some old haunts. Big mistake! We could have walked quicker, the traffic problems being compounded by another stabbing in West Kensington.

Never Pooh-Pooh a Pooh Blackadder"

Napoleon's little horse (well, I suppose he was a little man) Marengo has lost a bit of weight.

Friday it was a day of admin sorting out the mother in law. A long, tiring day. On return to the site we found a self-build van had parked up far too close to us as their hook up cable was too short. Not a problem, but this van had a worse than usual Rattle-Rattle-Bang sliding door and the occupants found the need to use it at least every 5 minutes. 

Saturday we relaxed. We walked to the local shops, admired the Everyman cinema, which has been beautifully renovated, despaired of finding anything vaguely edible in the awful Sainsburys, wandered around the delightful street market watching the vendors desperately trying to hold down their stalls in the high wind, bought a nice bottle of prosecco and went back to the van to settle down for an afternoon of 6 Nations rugby.

Sunday is a day best forgotten. The imbeciles next door started with the Rattle Rattle Bang of that poxy sliding door at 0615am. Despite several loud yells suggested that they may like to shut the **** up, they carried on, finally leaving the site at 0700hrs. Now fully awake, we set out far too early for a Harlequins game at 1pm. A big breakfast and several pints of foaming ale did a lot to numb the pain of a truly abject performance on the pitch. Disgruntled and mightily pee'd off we went back to Crystal Palace. At least the Rattle Rattle Bang van had gone.

Noisy barstewards

Monday it was up and negotiating the awful roads out of London. What complete and utter tit decided that a 20mph limit was a good idea?