Spooky

There have been some surprising discoveries over the trip so far and that is that campers we have met, have links to our area. As we have talked with so few Brits, it’s almost unbelievable.

First of all a woman from Liverpool, when looking at the Defender, as many people do, just happened to say, in conversation, that she had relatives in the Peak District. When asked where, she said that she had recently been to her aunt’s funeral. That lady had been a long time resident of Hope.

On another campsite, a chap from Norfolk said, without knowing where we live, that he “has to be back” by July the something, as he was interring his parents’ ashes in Bradwell, in Derbyshire.

Then yesterday, we were talking to fellow campers Peter and Carol, about the possible dangers of drinking mountain water. Carol said that when she was brought up in the Peak District… 

I asked where and she vaguely said, Chapel-en-le-Frith. So I asked where specifically and she said…

Sparrowpit

What are the chances? I don’t know of course and in fact I can’t think through the variables that would need to be considered. It’s too hard. Sparrowpit probably accounts for 50 people at anyone time, so the answer is that it’s very unlikely!

We spent two nights at the campsite in Bourg StM which is a ‘Huttopia’ owned site and as usual, very good. It’s early season and not too busy and the office doesn’t open in the afternoon until 16:30. This is a right royal you know what, as there’s a barrier at the entrance, so you can’t get in ‘early’.

The site pool is very relaxing. Guess who that is showing off her perfect freestyle.

Bourg is a busy place on Sunday, even in this ‘off season’. A large number of bikers were coming over from Italy. They come in droves; maybe they like the joint experience and discuss the bends and scraping of knee pads when they stop and gather. It must be painful for the locals who live next to the popular roads. They aren’t all Italian of course but here we are so close, that the probability increases. I can’t work that out either.

The overnight ski train runs directly into here from St Pancras (I’m not sure if it still runs). I once met my ski friends here early one Saturday morning after I has travelled more conveniently (for me) by plane and then bus followed by an airbnb in Bourg.

The vast Les Arc ski area is on the ‘hill’ to the south and I thoight that a trip up to Arc 1950 would be worthwhile. It’s quite a drive but as we approached, the attractiveness of this purpose-built village all flooded back.

It was Sunday and although the door to the huge underground car park was open, it was dark inside and I couldn’t see where the 3m headroom finished and the 2.2m started. So we parked outside, hidden away a little, as no parking is allowed on the road.

It’s hard to describe this place but it is designed for winter, so you go in through the car park and then up into your desired building at the appropriate door. We tried a door and it was unlocked. We were in a stairwell of sorts but the only obvious way up was to use the lift. We got in and pressed RC (🤷🏻) and rose two floors.

The doors opened into another communal area but this was as deserted as everywhere else. I think we could have wandered around freely although most of the doors led to apartments which would have been locked.

The spookyness got to me and we trusted the lift and went back down. It was like’The Shining’ but in summer rather than winter.

Instead, we climbed up a grassy bank at the side of the car park entrance and over a fence and were into ‘main street’.  It was empty!!

Ok there’s a parked van but the whole place was empty. It was just as if the human race had vanished. We walked around and looked in windows. Shutters were ready to flap in the wind. Menus were still pinned to boards. À clothes shop had stock in the windows, marked down by 50%.

There was no-one there and it was deathly quiet.

 Sooo spooky.

We left.