The Summer of 2019 - Day 2

We were up ripe and early. It had been a cold night with the wind making its own music on the the fragile plastic tent right up to the early hours. We did not brave the weather to see the sun rise, although it was a tempting prospect. As the day grew though, and it became warmer, we emerged, showered and breakfasted. 

Mohammad slept on though :) while we chilled. 

 


It was a lovely morning – all the discomfort of the night before were forgotten. I settled down to read my book – something I haven’t done in years, preferring to listen and watch most of the time.
Later, with breakfast done, Mo browsed, I read, and Insh and Mahdi went of on a trek - equipped with a bucket and a net - in search of a brook to study the bugs that lived in the water. 

After the Prophet is an engrossing read - giving an interesting insight into how Islamic History appears from the outside - to a relatively unbiased writer - trying to understand what led to the unfolding of events that followed the death of the prophet. 

Mahdi is a tireless walker - he can go on and on, and now he was in his element  - vigorous and energetic, in wellies, ready for any adventure that came his way. 
The gentle breeze, the silence not disrupted by city noises, and the sun stealing through the clouds to warming my skin every now and then - i spent some of my most idyllic moments. 
Before we left the camp - Mahdi had some Mamu time. :)

 

We left Upper Hurst Farm - in search of the elusive Ice-cream shop in Tagg Lane - the makers of the creamiest, most satisfyingly flavoursome ice cream ever. What makes a visit to this ice-cream parlour more exciting is that it is in the middle of no where. Surrounded by fields and grasslands in all directions - the Tagg Lane farm is a lone building, ordinary and small, something that you can drive by without even noticing it, unless, of course you are actually looking for it. And we  - we always have our eyes peeled for it. 
Surprisingly, Tagg Lane Ice-cream is quite popular, especially at this time of the year - particularly with bikers; and inevitably we meet a bunch of motor bike enthusiasts taking a break - ice-creaming here. The gleaming silver and black motor bikes and their riders in professional gear and helmets, lent an exciting ambience to the small parlour. Mahdi went off with Mamu to get his ice cream. 

THE SUMMER OF 2019

Saturday – 20th July – we drove off at 8:51am – not early enough from Mohammad’s point of view - his target was 6:30! Fairly good from mine - considering that we’d been working through the week. Definitely better than Friday afternoon though, which Mo had been rooting for, for the past one week. Immediately after school, he said. I’ll pick you up at the gate and we drive off - pack up Thursday night and stack the car, he said. In the last week of school?! With innumerable things on the list of things to do?! It was an impossibility. Thankfully, he conceded. And we settled for 6:30am, Saturday morning. Alhamd.

 

Mohammad’s newly bought Land-rover was about to take us off on an often-dreamed-but-never-lived adventure – with just a vague idea of where we would be spending the next night and absolutely no idea of where our next breakfast would be. Quite exciting, really! TBH, we were heading off to Peak District... generally; but specifically... had no idea exactly where, once there. Over the past week Mo had been researching while Insha and I got on with our last week of school. And, thanks to Maulana Google, (christened by Sh Z) found a number of farms we could tent up in around Peak District. 

While, Insha, in the back seat, called around to find the ideal place, I settled down to enjoy myself. The weather was lovely, pleasantly warm, albeit cloudy. Honestly, just the way I like it. I don’t really care for too much sun and sweat – stops my mind from thinking rationally. The drive was relaxing, Mahdi was in his usual chirpy mood with his torrent of questions. In the background we had ABBA’s lilting tunes punctuated with Julie Andrews’ catchy and ever green songs from the Sound of Music to keep Mahdi entertained. 

Upper Hurst Farm – our final choice – was a small place packed with families in caravans and tents. We were high up, surrounded by rolling hills checkered with farms in different shades of green as far as the eye could see where the land met the white, overcast sky. The Skyline was spotted with brief patches of darker-green wooded areas – picture perfect.

It was steadily growing colder – for which we were not as prepared as we should have been – but the warmth of the novelty of the experience kept us cheery. Mahdi was thrilled to bits. Quite in his element. In a thin t-shirt and shorts, he insisted he was warm. They set up the wickets for a round of  cricket as the wind literally threatened to carry away the tent! Mo made tea – we drank and watched.