The main reason for the trip was to attend a concert my elder son, Lloyd, was giving in the region where my wife was born and bred. Unfortunately, however, I had fractured my ankle (see below) ;so, instead of me driving my wife up from our home in the southern counties whilst our younger son, Adam, stayed behind to (amongst other things) look after our parrot, we decided to hire a camper-van and he would dive us north (including the parrot - see below)....
Photos can be enlarged by 'clicking' on them.
We had planned for my wife to stay with one of her cousins for the first night whilst another cousin had arranged for us to park behind his local (below - left) which was near the venue (also below). However, Although there was room for four to sleep in the camper-van, Adam was extremely tired after the drive; so, we managed to get him a proper bed in the hotel for the night and I kept the parrot company in the van. Her name's Ellie, by the way.
On the following morning, after breakfast, we took my wife's cousin back to her home not far from Oldham town centre; which had changed a lot - not least by the introduction of trams (below - centre).
Something else which had changed since the 1960s was the decline in the indigenous population; and, in this respect, it was somewhat alarming to see a flag flying on a private house (below - left) which bore a striking resemblance to some I have seen frequently on TV, in recent times (below - right).
An interesting - but paradoxical - example of retaining the 'old' can be seen in the canal-side cottages shown below (top left). One of them is currently on the market for a figure approaching £200,000.00 and what is paradoxical about them is that, in 1939, they were declared "unfit for human habitation" and the occupants were re-housed into new properties (bottom centre- below).
Later, we spent some time driving around the area shown above, called on a couple of old friends, and visited a local pub I frequented as a young man in the 1950s (bottom right - above). In those days, by the way, it was unusual for a young lady to go into a public house.
By the time we had finished the reunion, it was a little too late to politely call on other friends in the village; so, we headed off for an evening meal at a favourite chippie on Buxton market place. Adam had a double helping (see above); which goes some way towards explaining why he is now somewhat larger than our old neighbours would have remembered him fifty years ago.
Returning to the camper-van after our meal, I tripped and fell quite awkwardly and my ankle swelled quite alarmingly. It soon became obvious that it would make sense to abort our plans to visit a few more friends in The Peak District on the following day; so, we headed for home instead.
My ankle prevented me from reaching every corner of the village, myself, but I managed to call at the places which mattered (see above); and it was a nice way to bring our adventure to a conclusion - despite the disappointment of having to shorten it by a day or so.