Stage Six. Far from the maddening crowd; less atmospheric than watching in the villages I suspect, but an impressive cavalcade non the less.
I made my way up above the road know locally as Long Hill, for a birds eye view. It was blustery but warm and fine, which was just as well as in my haste I’d left my boots at home, and I’d had to tip toe across the fields in girly shoes from where I’d parked my car.
I watched a bit of traditional hay making while I waited (you can see we were a select bunch of spectators)
Some beautiful clouds skit by
I mused on how the road has changed over the centuries, you can still see the old road, snaking its way up through the centre of this image. A steep and difficult climb for horses and stagecoaches. That was superseded by the first toll road in 1780 built by John Metcalf of Knaresbourgh Yorkshire, known as Blind Jack
The road now sweeps along with the contours of the valley.
At last they came,
in a flash!
It’s a spot I must return too, another day, there are grand views in all directions.