You did what with the banana?! (Day Two Part Two)

Today I was grumpy. Generally grumpy. But trust me when I say that is an improvement on my general mood these past few months.

Biped and I tussled over who got to travel in which car. I ended up in the skitmobile and we followed Sky in a, quite frankly, pathetic two-car convoy. We stopped off at a small Tesco so biped, skit and I could do a shop for bits and pieces that were required for our roast lamb dinner (the lamb was purchased that morning from the farmer and much to our disappointment, he did not slaughter a lamb right in front of us but brought out a massive leg from the freezer). We also grabbed biscuits for our day of Cheddary fun. And bananas. And er... sherbet.

The next stop was at a random car park that, I believe though attention was not being paid (this day is very much a blur in my mind and I am not sure if it is the passage of time or me just not really having my mind where my body was that day), advertised prices to explore the gorge. We parked up (or rather Sky and skit did) and said "well, we're not having that! They want to take our money? Forget it!" and went to the cheese shop. My mind probably wandered between this rant and the decision to buy cheese. From now on, assume that any jarring transition from one event to another is due either to my aforementioned poor memory or the general ditziness I felt that day.

I am not a cheese fan. I'd eat it, preferably on toast with HP sauce, but "raw" just puts my teeth on edge. So I went to a souvenir shop instead. I sense that you are clambering for a better description of where we are because all the hints I have given so far are a car park and cheese shop. Well, we were in Cheddar and just around the corner from the gorge itself. The street was narrow with the typical grey stoned buildings either side that could have dated back centuries or maybe to just last week, it was hard to tell. The shops were uniquely rubbish for anything a normal person might want and totally geared towards the tourist industry. It was quite kitsch in an olde Englande kind of way. And yes, included tacky souvenir shops and the famous Cheddar Cheese shop.

I bought a selection of postcards at the souvenir shop next to the car park and rejoined the Hobblings. I was quite surprised by the cheese shop. It was like a boutique of cheese. The white counters and carefully placed lighting bore stylish cheeses and there was a tasting bar with trendy-looking staff proffering crumbs of cheese. The other three chose and bought their cheeses and we vamoosed.

After letting some people evacuate their bladders at the local pub.

We drove (well, again it was more Sky and skit though I am sure biped joined me in the occasional pretence of driving or is it just me that can't help but pretend I have a clutch, accelerator and brake under my feet?) up the gorge with Sky in the lead. The road was winding and upwards climbing with rock faces to either side. The dramatic scenery promised last night, driving through this in the dark, was delivered in spades. Once the gorge turned into relatively flat countryside, Sky pulled over and skit followed. Sky came to us and wondered out loud "perhaps we missed our stop?" to which skit rolled her eyes and suggested that yes, indeed we had. And maybe we should go back to where the gorge was actually gorging. Sky concurred and we went back down along the twisty twiney road passing climbers and mountain goats on the way.

This time, skit parked when we were almost back at the start of the gorge (almost, because she recalled that all the spaces were taken further down) and we waited for Sky to turn around and join us. Which she did with tales of horror about people taking up two spaces due to terrible parking in the next car park along. Also in our car park we found four minis parked side by side. Now that must have been a fun convoy.

We sauntered down to the hideous collection of buildings that someone probably thought a great idea back in the 60s (one Hobbling said "half the people were on drugs and the other half did the architecture") passing a rock formation remarkably like a lion on the way. As we declared earlier, we were not going to be fooled into paying actual money to walk a gorge, so skit inquired at a souvenir shop and found that there was a path to get to the top that we didn't have to pay for (unlike Jacob's Ladder, the stairs that lazy tourists take). And so we were off to find this path.

And somehow we didn't.

Taking a footpath away from the touristy 60s monstrosity, we found ourselves looping back to the shops. Not wanting a wasted trip, the other three Hobblings evacuated their bladders (again for some of them!) while I perused the used dvd collection of the curios shop. And then we were psyched to try for this path again.

And after clambering up a muddy slope to nowhere, we decided we still hadn't found it.

But as the photos on flickr attest, the path was found. Eventually. Starting our ascent with cheery grins (I lie- I was in a gunk) we were met by a man running down the path who imparted this piece of wisdom with us as he passed: Don't leave anything at the top because you will only have to go back up for it.

We nodded sagely.

And staggered on. And up.

The path was steep and it only got steeper. One by one, the Hobblings stripped down to t-shirts apart from me who attempted to exude an aura of "just popping out to the shops" and kept my coat on. I somehow doubt anyone was fooled into thinking that I wasn't suffering from the exertion since I kept dropping back and taking breaks on fallen branches. Not to mention suggesting every few minutes that we all go back down, have a cream tea and a game of crazy golf.

I was ignored and so continued plodding as Sky mountain-goated her way up with skit on her heels. As biped, skit and I took a break, Sky skipped off to explore a cave and find some bears to frighten (she didn't).

The path was steep and one long part was so steep steps had been placed in the mud. And with every turn in the path, we hoped and then were denied being at the top.

And yet suddenly, we were. And we turned around as the ground began to level out and we could see forever.

It was worth it. Most views are but this one in particular was fantastic. The sun was only just peeking out from behind the clouds making the view somewhat grey but all the more wild for it. We stood and took photos for some time in this field at the top of the gorge, leaning over the dry stone wall at the edge of the gorge to get the best shots.

We were going to be walking along the top of the gorge (blissfully flat) for some time so we didn't hang around wasting too many megabytes. We fuelled up with gingernuts and trooped onwards. The view just kept improving as we found autumn colours to one side and a flat expanse of fields (with sheep and dry stone walls) to the other. Biped pointed out a route going down but skit and Sky encouraged us to keep on going.

A conversation biped and I were not a part of labelled us all as different middle earth species. Thanks for that. No idea what I was but I'd prefer to be a cylon. Biped may have been the one to come off the worst as I recall she was called a dwarf. “It's okay,” skit said, “you have an axe.” Yes, I am sure that made it all better.

The path started to slope down. Soon we were hopping down steps but not as many as we had to climb up thanks to being further up the gorge. With our knees complaining, we took a most welcome break at the base of the steps. I sat on a stile as skit dismantled the wall to the side to get somewhere relatively comfy to sit. Out came the postcards and a pen and we assigned them to the various Hobblings for which we had addresses (and now I worry that I haven't heard from everyone that they received theirs...). We watched other people come down the steep steps including one lady being dragged down by a little dog. She was almost in fear for her life as the dog pulled her faster than her legs and sense of balance could manage. She made it to the bottom though and skit and Sky fussed over the dog as I hung back hoping that I'd escape the creature's notice. I did, thank bob, but the others wanted to move away because they were being attacked by midges (that seemed to avoid me) so I had to come within a metre of the dog to pass it. I survived though. I am so proud of myself.

It was here that biped fell over. My first reaction was fear that she was okay. After discovering that she was fine, it became laughter as she was covered in mud. Hee hee. Look- I felt concern first so obviously I am allowed to be amused.

We made it to road level. It was a hallelujah moment. We had scaled the side of the gorge where it was deepest, walked along the top and climbed down again. Wonderful. I had visions of cream teas and crazy golf in my head.

And skit and Sky took us up the other side of the gorge.

I was in a bad mood but only because I didn't know what amazing experience was before me. The climb up wasn't anywhere near as hard as before of course because the gorge wasn't as deep. It was potentially lethal as the path was unclear and we had to climb up a steep and very muddy slope without any sign of steps or anywhere where our shoes could gain purchase. Somehow though we made it without accident, helped by grabbing onto branches on the way up. The people we met who were attempting to go down the slope may have been in for a muddier (though faster) experience.

Once past the muddy slope, we were back on the flat gorge-top. It was cheery going with added amusement from a sign warning us about feral goats. We had to go through a turnstile in a tall metal fence to continue on the path. I am not sure if the fence was to keep the feral goats in or out actually.

The sun had come out from behind the clouds properly by this point. It was mid-afternoon which at this time of year is a pretty amazing time. The sun is low in the sky and the sunset lasts for hours. We were walking straight into it, towards the golden light. The trees on the side of the gorge cleared and we were out in the open, surrounded by grass that caught the light like magic, scattered white rocks forming nature's Zen garden and the gorge itself.

It was beyond perfect. It glowed gold and green. The gorge fell away and rose again with exposed rocks forming tiers and fingers. We couldn't see the road at all and the only signs that we hadn't fallen into a mythical version of England (perhaps with feral dragons instead of goats) were the walkers and climbers we shared the gorge-top with and a reservoir in the hazy distance (biped: “How did the lake get to be so round?”).

We rested here and I know I am at risk for sounding too melodramatic but it was my spirit that did the resting. The grumpiness fell away and was replaced by sheer contentment for where I was and who I was with.

The ground was full of dips and mounds (and animal droppings but we will ignore them) and I chose a perfectly rounded hillock as my throne. I sat on it at peace and took my coat off, delighting in the end of the autumn day. Biped and skit sat around me (in worship, I assume) but Sky couldn't find a comfortable spot on the rocky ground so I shuffled over and made room on my mound.

We sat for ages writing the postcards and generally giggling, particularly at Sky's efforts with her banana. She wanted to dip it into the packet of sherbet but it wouldn't fit which was momentarily the funniest thing ever.

Not much to get me to move away from this place except for this: it was growing late and the light was slowly disappearing. The last thing we wanted was to end up walking in the dark so we had to leave. A few photographs were taken in one last attempt to capture the moment forever, and then we went.

We walked along the side of the gorge once again, past feral goats and autumn colours. Once again we had to go through a turnstile in a fence and then we were there, at the top of Jacob's Ladder: 274 steps back down to earth.

We went back to the car park. Said goodbye to Sky. It was very sad. But there you go.