Sheffield's Five Weirs Walk

Following the River Don, we discovered Sheffield's industrial heartland of the past. 

It was the sort of Saturday where you would be happiest to be holed in bed, listening to the pitter-patter of the falling rain on the windowsill and absorbing the gloom brought about by the bleak sky. There had been a series of sunny spells just a few days ago, making it one of the better spring seasons we've ever had. And then on this day when we were set to do the an eight-mile walk from Meadowhall to Sheffield city centre, the weather chose not to cooperate. But since this is England, not even the rain could stop anyone from doing what they are set to do. 

From the University tram stop near where we live near the city centre, a trip to Meadowhall takes about 16 minutes on the city's most efficient mode of transport. This is a very popular route especially for residents of nearby towns off for a day trip of shopping and entertainment. 

We found ourselves getting off Meadowhall Interchange but while most of the passengers went on to the footbridge that connects the tram stop to the shopping centre, we carried on to find the starting point of the Five-Weirs Walk. 

This walk promised to take us to the heart of Sheffield's industrial backstreet, through a secret path of history and wildlife following the River Don. It wasn't difficult to follow, there were signposts everywhere. At some point, it actually merges with the more popular Trans-Pennine Trail. 

From the interchange, we followed Meadowhall Road and passed through the first weir: Hadfield's Weir which is just outside Meadowhall's Oasis. Then we crossed Meadowhall Way following the signs that took us to Weedon St where a weirhead welcomed us. 

This bit of the walk has been developed with friendly access ramps and fishing platforms, making it accessible for its ever-growing number of visitors. On the opposite side of the river is the Sheffield Forgemasters engineering plant, a remnant of Sheffield's industrial heyday. Here we passed families of walkers and cyclists who like us were oblivious to the unfavourable weather. Towards the end of this stretch, we found the second weir: 

We lost track of the river again when we exited through Carbrook Street and found ourselves back in the busy main road, just a few feet away from the Valley Centretainment bustling with life.

At the roundabout, we turned towards Bold Street and found the connecting path that would take us back to the riverbank. We were met with heavy rain at this point, our shoes soaked wet, so we found shelter in a shed used by workers for cigarette breaks. This is where we had our lunch break as well. 

The rain stopped shortly after and we carried on our walk. Along the other side of the river bank, we glimpsed oddments of the city's rich industrial past and the stark contrast of the Don Valley Stadium's structure looming ahead. Wild flowers also grow along the riverbanks. 

At the end of this stretch, we crossed the criss-cross bridge at Newhall Road and once again followed the left bank of the river. This area is still home to a still thriving steel industry although no longer as flourishing (see featured photo above). Further on, the walk passes through a short tunnel under the Stevenson Bridge which took us to a wall of ivies where butterflies are fluttering about. 

A bit further on we came across the 3rd weir: Sanderson's Weir. Across the river further on, we found a mechanic shop with lines of cars and some ship containers that look like a scene from an old action movie. 

Just a bit further on, we were prompted to cross the East Coast Bridge and found an oasis for our tired and wet feet in a form of a viewpoint with a wooden bench. We stayed here for awhile, basking on the rays of the sun that has slowly seeped through the clouds by then. I took this chance to dry my well-worn but reliable sneakers. 

We did not stay long as we still have a third of the journey to complete. We entered an iron gate with a warning that it closes at 1740 and was led to walk under an iron archway. 

We walked through another tunnel under the Westford Bridge and found a fishing point with various wooden sculptures of fishes to mark the spot. 

The road divides at this point, to either continue following the river or detour towards the Salmon Pastures Nature Reserve. We took the latter route and were instantly surrounded by wild flowers and seemingly endless greenery. 

The walk through the nature reserve was not long and soon after we found ourselves by the river bank with a row of dilapidated buildings in our right, possibly some old factories that were not yet razed to the ground. 

There is another fishing point here near the fourth weir: Burton Weir which is beside two bridges, the higher one is the Norfolf Midland Railway Bridge. 

We exited through a wooden ramp and found ourselves back in the main road. We walked towards the end of Warren Street and saw the notorious Club 160, a sauna and massage suite. A couple of men on the car started eyeing us suspiciously so with a laugh, we carried on to cross Leveson Street towards the direction of another weir head. 

Flowers are in bloom along the side of the road leading us to the narrow iron archway which will eventually take us to the Bailey Bridge, an engineering feat by a student of Sheffield University during WW2 and was notably one of the three most important inventions of the war. 

We crossed the bridge and followed the river from the other side along Effingham Street and shortly came across the fifth weir: Walk Mill Weir. 

The walk did not end here. We carried on towards Furnival Road and temporarily lost track of the river, then turned right to Sussex Street to cross the Cobweb Bridge. 

In exiting this tunnel, we were greeted by the looming figure of The Royal Victoria Hotel amidst the backdrop of the city centre. 

From here we took a short detour to see the Victoria Quays but eventually ended at the heart of the city centre where Lady's Bridge still stands after hundreds of years and has survived Sheffield's floods.  

The walk took us nearly five hours to complete mainly because we were taking photos and having short breaks. But the time spent was well-worth it. It felt amazing to discover that behind the hustle and bustle of city life, there is a different world that feels so far away yet just around the corner. A world that is 'a wild natural habitat where animals live in an industrial landscape that shaped the city to what it is now'. 

As the BBC guide also quoted Robert Frost's famous words: 

Two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference. 

We took  the road less travelled and it has given us a different view of the city we have come to love. 

Weekend Walk: Ecclesall Woods

To wander in the woodlands is one of the best ways to celebrate the changing season. And in autumn this transformation couldn't be more fervent, when the trees put on a dazzling display of colours from gorgeous golds to russet reds and the woods are rife with frantic activities as the wildlife prepare for the cold winter to come.

Ecclesall Woods in the south of Sheffield are the largest semi-natural woodland in South Yorkshire and is very popular to visitors for its wildlife, historic and archaeological features. Last Sunday, they held their annual Feast in the Forest, a celebration of autumn in the woods with children's activities, food stalls, woodland trails and pumpkin carving. We arrived early and headed off to the visitor centre where most of the activities were held. Without a map, we discovered that we had limited pathways to follow with a pram but we still managed to have fun - picking up chestnuts, listening to the crunching of leaves on our feet and taking photos of course!

Weekend Walk: Lady Bower Reservoir

On Sunday morning, we woke up to a sky that was clear, a great echoing bowl of blue, drenched in light from the sun that has just risen over the horizon. The early morning air was crisp and the ice crystals that formed overnight were still clinging to the leaves of the potted plants by our kitchen door. It was a sort of day that brought a lot of promise, perfect for a photo walk in the countryside to capture the poetry of the changing season.

The night before, I have suggested taking the wheel and driving the family to the Lady Bower Reservoir, a twenty minute journey from Hillsborough through the quiet country lane that is Rivelin Valley Road which follows the course of the river until it joins A57 to the right, the trunk road between Sheffield and Manchester which passes through sheep pastures and wild heather moorlands with spectacular views of the valleys from the rising hills. This idea was not met with much enthusiasm and with perfectly good reasons.

Sundays are never the best times to go to the Peak District. Roadside parking spaces are quickly snapped up by the enthusiastic middle classes whose past times include early morning commune with nature in their Regatta outfits, walking poles and hiking boots. When we got there just after nine in the morning, we had to circle around to find a free space but even that was due to luck as we have a small car that can squeeze in when others can’t.

But perhaps the bigger reason was the state of my driving which even I am still nervous about. It has taken me an expensive nearly two years of weekly driving lessons with a very patient instructor to pass my driving exams at my second attempt while I was on the 37th week of pregnancy. John thinks I have charmed my way to get it, judging by my poor subsequent performances on the driver’s seat, which resulted to more weekend driving lessons (with a not-so-patient-instructor) involving uphill junctions, 20mph streets and circular routes. It wasn’t much fun so I suggested that on last week’s lesson, we should hit two birds with one stone: a driving lesson and a day out.

It was supposed to be easy: a quiet road with maximum speed limit of 50mph, so I started off with a lot of confidence. But there is never an easy route in Britain where you share the road with groups of cyclists hogging the road instead of their designated cycle paths, impatient drivers overtaking close to incoming bends and over-speeding motorcyclists signing their own death sentence. Add the fact that you never really see where you are going because the roads are never straight. But when we arrived at our destination without a scratch in the car, I was congratulating myself. My passengers though would tell a different story.

When we approached the reservoir, a wisp of mist was still hovering over the treetops but it didn't stay long. We parked closed to Ashopton Bridge and crossed the viaduct to the direction of Bamford, admiring the stunning view of the hills covered with woodlands in its autumnal glory, beautifully reflected in the calm water. We walked the length of the dam towards the other side, taking plenty of photos along the way.