The long haul up hill

As we came into Eckington we saw an old fashioned Ironmongers ahead.  We just had to stop there and go in and talk to them, didn't we?  Inside Sally gasped 'what an emporium!'.  Things hanging from hooks on the ceiling and shelving with tin and card boxes and things in every nook and cranny. 

Sally L didn't see the man to start with, until he got up from his stool in the corner of the shop.  We asked him for stories and if he had been asked for unusual items, Sally N said 'like 4 candles' which he rolled his eyes at. He began to talk to us about Wright's Coal Tar Soap and having a wash in a tin bath by the fire on Saturday nights- hoping you didn't get visitors.  It had such a strong smell that people really remember.  Then a customer came in for some clamps for her rocking horse, but she was adamant that she didn't have any stories for us.  After she had gone he went back to his stool and we talked about Valour Blue Flame paraffin heaters, a box of White Windsor Soap that he found under the counter that he put outside and sold for 2 shillings a bar.  He explained that his Grandad and Grandma started the shop, and their name is above the door, then his uncle took over and now he runs it and his son also helps out.  He wasn't sure how much longer he would be doing it for because there are not many customers anymore, people commute from the village and don't use the local shops.  They are missing a gem!

We asked about the onward journey to Coal Aston, and he said it was a long haul up... by 'eck he was right!  Sally hit the 'wall' half way up and walked some of the way.  Sally N couldn't push the trailer so she had to keep going.

When we reached the top at Dronfield Woodhouse, the road began to descend but we could see the hill rising from under the A61 on the other side; it was Stubley Hollow hill.  We struggled on and collapsed at the top in a pub yard, the smokers shelter!  We needed hot drinks, food, the toilet and some time away from the increasingly busy rush hour traffic.  Sally N went in to get refreshments and overheard an indepth conversation about deep cleaning the gents toilets as the stench was foul.  It would cost £500 to the new landlord for the pleasure.  Sally L went to the ladies toilet which was warm and pleasant and sweet smelling, with fancy soap.  No need for deep cleaning there.  We checked our phones for messages of support and encouragement but nobody loved Sally N and Sally L got a text from Nick asking 'In search of what?  Good looking rich men?!'  Not really that much support then but it did make us chuckle!

On to Owler Bar to face wind, rain and isolation and Sally L cycled up to the top.  After Owler Bar, the wind was so strong that a gust hit Sally L head on and she ground to a halt.  At last we were at the top, expecting a free ride down Froggatt, instead we had to peddle against the wind all the way down and pray that crazy drivers wouldn't flatten us as they overtook on blind corners.  The rain and darkness was drawing in and as we got to the bridge at the bottom of Froggatt, we stopped to put lights on and prepare ourselves for the climb to Eyam that Rob had said was 'nothing much'!  We struggled to get Sally L's lights on her skinny handle bars, so had to fatten with insulating tape (good job we brought it) and then she led the way with her super bright light.

Through Stoney Middleton, Sally N said, 'We have Middleton Stoney in our museum.'
Middleton Stoney-
People who get above their station.
Aristocrat- well to do.  His name was really Michael- but this was too common so he changed it to Middleton Stoney. 

We turned off the main road to face the drag up to Eyam, Sally N carried on leaving Sally L walking up the pavement in the dimming light. The pavement soon petered out and she hid behind traffic cones when a bus came down the winding road.  At the top of this climb she found Sally N waiting in the rain.  When we found that the youth hostel was 800 yards out of the village up another steep hill, Sally N said 'Sod it, I'm walking' and they pushed their bikes together in the darkness.

Eyam Youth Hostel.  We had a fight with ladders to get the bikes into secure storage.  We pleaded for hot water and a hot meal and were rewarded at 8:30, 10 hours after we had set off, with pasta and chili bean sauce with side salad.  Plus a lovely cup of hot tea for Sally N.

After hot showers we crawled into bed at 9:30 ish feeling absolutely pooped, then Sally L's phone beeped.  It was the missed call from Margaret that cheered us both up with her support.