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Blackpool & Minwear Wood: More holiday snaps. We could have walked to Blackpool from where we were staying in Narberth. Not of course the Blackpool in Lancashire but the very much smaller Blackpool in Pembrokeshire.

It would have been a pleasant walk along country roads and through Carnaston Woods, perhaps 5 or 6 kilometres, but we wanted to go a little beyond Blackpool to Minwear Woods for a walk there, and together with the walk back would have been too much for some of us.

Blackpool isn’t a very large place. It has a bridge, Blackpool Bridge, a large house, Blackpool and Blackpool Mill. One road to nowhere very much, woods around and several footpaths including the Knights Way.

The bridge takes the Knights Way over the Eastern River Cleddau, close to the limit of the tide coming up the river from Milford Haven and at the highest navigable point of the river.

It has an inscription stating it was built around 1830 by Baroness de Rutzen; she was the daughter and heiress to Nathaniel Phillips, the owner of the Slebech estate and of Blackpool Mill. I think it may have been rebuilt then rather than entirely new though it may have replaced a ford a short way upstream.

Mary Dorothea Phillips (1797-1860) had met Charles Frederick (1795-1874), Baron de Rutzen in Rome in 1821 and they were married in 1822 in England. Later they became Lords of the Manors of Slebech, Minwear, Newton, Narberth and Robeston Wathen, and of the Manors or Reeveship of Lampeter Velfrey and Llanddewi Velfrey.

Usually described as German, de Rutzen was born in what is now Latvia and the family had extensive estates in Lithuania and you can read a great deal more about him on Geni.com, including his description of his first meeting with the charming daughter of Mrs Phillips, who was a notable pianist. After the marriage the couple lived in Brighton and London for some years, moving to Slebech Hall after Baroness de Rutzen became joint owner of the estates there as well as in Jamaica in 1830. It was a happy marriage and they had seven children.

There is no sign of a pool on either old maps of Blackpool or the current OS maps, but I think the name may come from a creek of the Cleddau immediately upstream of the bridge. The were some dramatic views of this overgrown area from the track leading to the bridge, but a footpath there was closed as too dangerous to enter.

Blackpool mill was built in 1813 on the site of a wharf and a former ironworks and is a remarkable Grade II* listed building, recently beautifully restored as a “Heritage Dining” restaurant, Black Pool Mill, by the nearby holiday park. We didn’t go inside as we had brought sandwiches which we ate at a picnic table in the woods but the restoration has retained the machinery of the mill virtually intact. Originally powered by a large waterwheel using water from a mill race coming from around a mile up-river, the waterwheel was replaced by more efficient turbine in 1903. The mill race is a feature in front of the mill which is set back from the road.

Minwear Woods are a short distance to the west on the slopes above the river and we walked around the clearly marked trail. Trees obscure any view of the river except at a recently constructed viewpoint just off the trail. A short distance to the west the view from an earlier viewpoint is now completely blocked by trees.

There are a few more pictures from this walk in the album Blackpool & Minwear Wood.

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Monday 30th December 2019 seems so long ago now, part of BC – before Covid – and it comes as some surprise to work out that it was only three years ago that we were staying in Matlock and going for a walk with my younger son and his family.

Matlock Bath is the tourist centre of the area, just around a mile and a half down the A6 from Matlock where we were staying, but that would be a rather boring walk. Instead we took a route along a well-signposted footpath up the steep east side of the valley taking us to High Tor, coming down to Matlock. The actual horizontal distance was perhaps twice as far, but the vertical aspect was considerably greater, with some splendid views perhaps compensating for the life-threatening exertion. I’m just not used to hills.

The path around the face of High Tor was described by one sensationalist article in a tabloid excuse for a newspaper as the “most dangerous footpath in England” but in fact is rather safe, even having a handrail to hold as it narrows around the cliff face. It’s a path I would avoid in high winds, event though there is a one way system which most walkers adhere to on this short section as passing people could be just a little tricky.

But there are far more dangerous paths than this, which is safer than many coastal cliff walks. Not of course a walk to take your hard to control young children on, and the article appeared to have been triggered by the complaint of one mother who had done so. Public footpaths date from before we had much concern for health and safety.

There were a few people like us making this popular walk, but coming down to the main road with its long row of fish and chip shops was entering tourist central, crowded enough to make it hard to keep walking at a sensible speed. It’s always like a little bit of a popular seaside resort strangely landed in the centre of the country about as far from the sea as you can get. It was quite a shock when I first saw it, coming up the A6 on my way to another term at Manchester University in the 1960s – though we soon found there were better routesif less scenic.

At one of the pubs we met other family and friends including the younger and less controllable who had arrived by train – one short stop down the line – rather than make our more hazardous journey. We walked out to admire the fish swimming in their pool while waiting for the food to arrive and afterwards left to visit the mining museum.

The mining museum is worth a visit, though it really needs several visits to see it all, and hits a balance between a museum proper and a visitor experience mainly for children, though some of its fake mine passages are tricky for overisize adults.

We left the mining museum and divided into two parties again. My son and I decided to walk back to Matlock over the hills to the west of the main road while the others went to the station to catch the train.

The steps up the steep hillside past the entrance to Gulliver’s Kingdom were a little daunting to a flat earth dweller whose heart has seen better days, but past them it was a pleasant walk with few sections with good views across the valley as the light faded at the end of the day.

More pictures and story at Matlock & Matlock Bath. This year we will be at home today and our walk will be rather flatter.