Holiday in Buxton

The land of hailstones and ducks. Nice people though. Maybe because they were selling us stuff.

Blue John – named not after a bloke called John but because of the French Bleu Jeune (blue yellow) which sounds like Blue John. The stone itself is unremarkable. I have seen shells on the beach that look better, but some people seem to like it (it’s rare) and goes for a lot of money. It is mainly blue but sometimes is yellow. It was found in a mine that was supposed to be a lead mine. I don’t know if they were happy or not to have found some stone that they weren’t even looking for. It’s very dark down there, wet aswell, which is strange cos it’s underground.

Chatsworth House – animals are smelly, but the ones here were surprisingly well smelling. This meant it was ok to pet them, but I’m sure they must have diseases for you have to wash your hands very responsibly after you touch them.

Magic Show – 5 magicians who were touring the country and decided to come to the bizarre town of Buxton, known of course for its water. There were even tricks involving water, nothing of course like what Jesus did. But it seems to me that people would be decidedly more sceptical these days after he performed his miracles. ‘You haven’t seen what David Copperfield can do though,’ would be whispered about I suppose.

Harry Potter magic was there. So too were wannabes who wanted to be in Vegas and made this into a whole routine. Thoroughly good magic though.

Getting lost in fields – A lot of paths tend not to lead anywhere. And if they do work they mostly come back to where you started. May aswell not go anywhere. This path started off fine, and was paved in stone and dirt. Then it became muddier and muddier and we ended up in a random field full of silage and disgustingness. There was no path, no farmers, no cows, just a lot of mud. There was a road in the distance but we needed to trespass to get to it. So we did. And apologised for it to a woman who was completely unimpressed by us. A little credit please. We could have been stuck there forever.

After finding our way back to a path, by a canal, which is good because there’s no mud there and it will eventually lead to a pub. A number of animals were spotted by us on the way, none the better than the circus goats who could have got on Britains Got Talent for their balancing skills. They seemed to prefer standing on narrow suspended pieces of wood than on the ground. Maybe they don’t like the mud either.