Following on from my last post, after we'd visited Matlock Bath and Caudwell's Mill & Craft Centre we headed off to the ancient capital of the Peak District, Bakewell.
We parked by the River Wye and crossed Weir Bridge.
The railings on this bridge are now just about full of padlocks, a tradition started by lovers fastening 'love locks' on the Pont des Arts in Paris.
There must be thousands of padlocks adorning the bridge.
Bakewell is a busy town but it still retains its character and charm.
Home of the Bakewell Pudding, there are many bakeries selling this flaky pastry dessert.
We had a wander around the town before getting back in the car and setting off once again. We stopped to enjoy the view at Monsal Head, high above Monsal Dale where the viaduct which carried the former Midland Railway over the river can be seen.
It's quite a few years now since I've worked on my family tree but generations of my mum's family came from Derbyshire. I know that my mum's grandparents are buried in the churchyard at a village called Stanton so we decided we'd go and see if we could find their headstones.
Stanton is a small village on the Weaver Hills near Ashbourne. Each generation of my mum's family were born there from at least the 1780's when my great great great great grandfather was born, right down to my my mum's mum who was born there in 1909. It was a bit of a drive but eventually we came upon the church.
It's only a small church and there aren't a great number of graves as it's relatively new, being built in 1847. Prior to that, the villagers worshipped at Ellastone, a village about two and a half miles away so some family occasions such as christenings, weddings and funerals took place there. It didn't take us long until we found my mum's Uncle Henry, or Harry as he was known.
I was really pleased that we discovered my great grandparents, William and Louisa. We only decided to look for the church on the spur of the moment, if I'd known we'd be visiting I'd have taken some flowers. There's a misspelling on the stone, Louisa has been spelt Lousia.
And here is a photo of Louisa, kindly passed on to me from a relative who I found when researching my family tree. I don't know when the photo was taken but Louisa was born in 1871.
The village is in such a peaceful place, you can see for miles from the churchyard.
It's a shame that the church was locked as I'd have liked to have gone inside. I'm so pleased that we found it though, it really made my day.
I used to love to work on my family tree, discovering family history from long ago. Visiting the place where my great grandparents lived, and my nana lived as a child, has reawakened something in me and I'm all geared up again to discover more. I can see this old hobby of mine being rekindled, and I'd love to go and explore this area more and perhaps visit Ellastone church too.