Slightly-less-urban flotsam

The waterfall at Monsal Dale. About as natural as a lilo

The North. Subject of much sarcastic writings by non-northerners and the origin of a great many great friends (and a good deal of my further education). 

Urban walks should, by definition, take place somewhere filled with wifi,
traffic jams or the occasional quiet stabbing. Yet a recent jaunt to Yorkshire showed me you can still get incredibly man- made flotsam in a place where you wouldn't expect it.  

Endcliffe park. Has had the builders in

 An at-times vertiginous but rather lovely yomp around Monsal Dale threw up the old bridges and abandoned railway lines you might expect from a part of the world with such a rich industrial past. 


What was more unusual was that someone had gone to the effort of creating a lovely waterfall in the middle of somewhere already rather lovely.

Bricks in the riverbed for
that jacuzzi effect

  
Later on in Hunter's Bar - a cracking bit of Sheffield that doesn't boast the kind of natural beauty that the Peak District never stops going on about - the home-made waterfalls continued with gusto.

 
Wandering through Endcliffe park, there were at least half a dozen brazenly man-made waterfalls of one sort and another. Paths were thrown alongside - and sometimes over - the stream supplying them with H2O. 

I wondered: did it matter that these supposedly natural features were entirely unnatural? Was the pleasant sight and sound of them undercut by the fact they came from a desire by the Victorians  to jazz the place up a bit? Certainly no-one else having a crisp January walk that day seemed bothered.

In the end, neither was I.

Fake but fab

Little new London

I love a map. They combine something functional with something that can, in the right hands, be really beautiful. London's had her fair share, including the ones that were on show here and are on sale here. 

I stumbled almost literally (thanks shoes) across this one as I was wandering, dazed, into work. A sprawling, room-sized scale model of London.
 
 It looked like something out of a Bond movie. Any second now an evil genius was going to explain to me his plans for turning the entire metropolis into plaid, residents too. 

I gawped happily at some slightly beige buildings and the new Crossrail track as it weaved its way insidiously around other established landmarks. A vibrant city strewn with so many evocative landmarks, all toned done into subtle shades.

Accidental close-up of
a roundabout. Pfwoar!

New or proposed buildings stood out in white, like they hadn't had the time to take on the tones of their neighbours. It all seemed a quaint, enthralling, rather British waste of time. I bloody loved it.

(For some decent camerawork and a full explanation of what this was all about, have a gander here)

Man kept in shot for scale
(and because he wouldn't move)