Bowland is a good place to be. I have friends around me today to isolate me from the worst of world affairs, did you listen to PM Netanyahu’s (a potential war criminal) vile speech to congress yesterday? We, five former colleagues all in our dotage, set off from near that iconic Bowland red phone box in the hills beyond Chipping. I don’t know the plan but I’m in the hands of the resident local ‘guide’, sometimes it’s just good to go with the flow, even for me having a somewhat ‘in control’ psyche. 
It is all familiar for most of us but none the worse for that as we tramp westwards across the base of the fells. A posse of cows watches us from the hilltop. This is curlew country par excellence and I’m pleased to report we saw and heard several. 
You may remember this ford crossing from the other day, again no one fell in. 
There are eggs for sale today at Saddle End, I have brought some loose change for half a dozen. We go through a gate helpfully signed Chipping, I don’t think I’ve used before, this is exciting. 
Our ‘guide’ leads us down a vague path, over a footbridge and up again to suddenly find one of those favourite P&NFA signs in the middle of a field. All well off the beaten track.Â
We drop down to the imposing house above the mill dam, once the house of the millowner. Yes I have been this way before. 
The party straggles out as we wander through the old chair works, due for some sort of redevelopment. I’ve often wondered what the steps were going down to the brook, Ian doesn’t know but says he will ask a friend living here the next time he sees her. Well the next time he sees her is a few minutes later when she walks up the lane. She remembers her family going to the brook to wash clothes. Another one of life’s problems solved. 
We catch the others up and dive into the busy Cobbled Corner café for pots of tea, soup and sandwiches. Well recommended. 
I repeat my tour of the grave yard to visit Lizzie Dean’s grave under the ancient yew. Have a look at my last post on Chipping for the video tale of the whole tragic episode.
Casting aside the sadness we enjoy the blooms in the village, It has reached the finals of the competition. 
All is very familiar to many of you as we leave the village and enter the grounds of Leagram Hall with its lovely trees. That’s Pendle in the background. 
We don’t continue to the sheep farm but cut across the park to pick up a footpath to Knot Hill. I often find this difficult to follow but today our local ‘guide’ leads the way unerringly.
All that remains is to follow the bridleway down to the ford and up the hill to our ‘guide’s’ house. A mooch around his garden and then coffee before we all disperse after yet another enjoyable Bowland walk, about 6.5 miles. 
Interestingly our one lady member is leading a walk tomorrow of friends, they call it the Chatterbox Walk. I’m thinking us men should form a group for more regular walks – the Silent Saunter.
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