Rather than just pounding straight back up the motorways, I took the scenic route back, stopping here and there, wherever the fancy took me. One such stop by a modern river crossing revealed the old bridge alongside the new, with comemorative plates and dancing brightly-coloured insects flitting over the water.
The new bridge, and the old. You can still drive over the old one, though the single track road stops abruptly as soon as you reach the other side!
In a village I chanced upon some old cast-iron road signs.
Uttoxeter seemed a pleasant spot for top stretch the legs for a bit.
The ruins of Croxden Abbey. There is something incredibly romantic about wandering in the runis of an place that was once so ordered and precise.
Finally, I passed through the Peak District, finding castles perched, Rhine like, high on the crags, and ruins of an altogether more recent era.
And so my Midsummer wanderings ended. A magical time, and one I will remember for many years to come. Blessed Be!
Journeytime - a Midsummer Pligrimage - A Midsummer Night with Inkubus Sukkubus - Homebound Wanderings - Midsummer Index