Fairy steps

When my first marriage ended in 1999, I moved out to Beetham and into a house on Blackberry Hill. The house itself was designed by an architect, a fact that most acutely manifested itself in the fact that the central heating was in the ceiling.

The house was one of five, terraced in their own grounds, and from one side there was a path that led out to a spot locally referred to as "the fairy steps". On my own I guess it would have been a fifteen minute walk from the house but with four small girls the duration of the walk was unpredictable. I'd put the girls in their boots and, usually, their waterproofs and we'd make our way to the crossroads in the woods, where we'd turn left towards the fairy steps.

The legend is that if you can walk down the fairy steps without touching the sides, then your wish, whatever it is, will come true. This may well be true because, as you can see, the descent is hazardous and I'm pretty sure no one has ever made it without a steadying hand.

I'd always hide some chocolate biscuits in my pocket and distribute them amongst the trees at the bottom of the steps and the girls, all under ten, would believe the fairies had left the treats for them. Then we'd either climb back up through a cave in the rocks or, more commonly, take the long way 'round back up to the top.

Today I went back there with my mum and dad, Dan and Abi, and, from the original fairy steps corps, Charlie. We parked up near Blackberry Hill and walked the old route to the steps. It was drizzly and the steps were too wet for anyone to try the descent without using their hands although Dan and Abi did make their way back up through the cave. At the top they found this, apparent evidence of fairies.