myself being dropped off a little ways outside the village of Cropston and I having to walk around a huge reservoir of water to get to one of the park entrances. (The Tourist centre of the park is way across the water.)
The jaunt was most enjoyable along the road/reservoir as I had a chance to look at the countryside, admire horses grazing in a meadow, and examine flowers along the way.
When I finally found the entrance, there weren’t any signs or maps, just a car park. I began walking for ages down a paved carriageway. Somewhat hilly with strange rock formations, the park wasn't as impressive as I was expecting, at least not the part I was seeing at first. However, it did have natural acres of grass, heath, bracken, rocky outcrops, small woods, herds of deer and the River Lin as promised.
Then I also read that "Much of the land has never been farmed, and retains its natural beauty. In days gone by, the park was the site of the small village of Bradgate, but this was cleared to create a country park for the owners, the Greys of Groby. There is a deer herd numbering about 300, being a mixture of roe and fallow deer. The quiet little River Lin flows through the park, its course changed over the years by a series of weirs designed to create fish pools."http://www.flickr.com/photos/spectrefloat/sets/72157594468049192/
After 
quite some time, I finally came across some people heading out of the park and they said to keep going around the bend and I’d come to the visitor’s centre and some ruins.
quite some time, I finally came across some people heading out of the park and they said to keep going around the bend and I’d come to the visitor’s centre and some ruins. 
Well, many bends and a long while later at what turned out to be about halfway into the park; I flopped down at the little coffee shop, next to the visitor’s centre and had 
some lunch. It was about 2:30 or so by this time and I was feeling a little faint from hunger, as I hadn’t had much for breakfast much earlier in the day. Refreshed, I toured the little museum, then headed off towards the ruins….my goal all along.
some lunch. It was about 2:30 or so by this time and I was feeling a little faint from hunger, as I hadn’t had much for breakfast much earlier in the day. Refreshed, I toured the little museum, then headed off towards the ruins….my goal all along.Over 750 years ago, royals created Bradgate as a hunting park, and enclosed it sometime before 1240. The land looks much as they did in the Middle Ages. There are still herds of Red and Fallow deer running free throughout it, though hunting no longer takes place. In 1928, the then heir sold the park to Charles Bennion who donated it in trust to the county and city of Leicester.
I toured the Museum and the Ruins....see blogs on each of these excursions...Bradgate Museum, Bradgate Manor Ruins. Also see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bradgate_Park for more information on the Park itself.
Once I finished my touring, I continued my walk through the park to the other end, having been told that I would come out at a little village where I could catch a bus or taxi to take me back into Leicester. By this time, my feet were achingly squished and my legs were cramping up, but I persevered (no other choice), limping to a bus stop, which I found out was for the #120 and which I could have taken in the first place, saving myself more than half the walk I’d done.
Regardless, I made it back into Leicester, but still had to get back to my accommodations. The long and the short of this was that, although a little old couple pointed me in the right direction, I knew it wasn’t exactly how I’d come in order to find the Internet Café, so I tried my own method. This didn’t work and I walked quite a long way in the wrong direction (having become turned around in a shopping mall the helpful woman from the morning had led me through).
After asking general directions to the road I needed, I limped into the Internet shop eventually, and sat there for a bit until they closed. I was the last one out; following a young woman who suggested a couple of places where I might like to eat supper. It was 8 pm by this time, so I thought I might as well grab a bite before heading back to my lodging. Maureen guided me to a restaurant, which served spicy food, and decided to join me. She was from Jamaica so she liked her food hot. I could have stood it toned down a bit, but didn’t complain, though it was the hottest salad dressing I’ve ever tasted. Thanks heavens the chicken I’d ordered to go with it was the mild kind. The restaurant, Nando’s, was supposed to be Portuguese, but I have to say I never tasted food like that when I was in Portugal.
I left Maureen to wait for her husband to get off work, saying I was going to catch a cab back, because I couldn’t walk another step. However, while I wandered up the street looking for a taxi, I realized I wasn’t far from the train station and I knew my way home….still a few blocks away, but silly to take a cab. When I arrived ‘home,’ I crawled up the stairs, ditched my shoes (which I swore I would replace at the earliest opportunity), undressed and staggered into bed almost immediately. It was almost 10 pm by then—and I slept soundly until my alarm went off early the next morning in time for me to get up and catch my bus to Haworth.
I was up bright and early and ready for breakfast by the time they began to serve at 7:15 am, however, I had to hurry along the cook as my taxi was coming ten minutes later. I gobbled down some scrambled eggs and toast, washing it down with orange juice, still chomping when my ride arrived.
Once I finished my touring, I continued my walk through the park to the other end, having been told that I would come out at a little village where I could catch a bus or taxi to take me back into Leicester. By this time, my feet were achingly squished and my legs were cramping up, but I persevered (no other choice), limping to a bus stop, which I found out was for the #120 and which I could have taken in the first place, saving myself more than half the walk I’d done.
Regardless, I made it back into Leicester, but still had to get back to my accommodations. The long and the short of this was that, although a little old couple pointed me in the right direction, I knew it wasn’t exactly how I’d come in order to find the Internet Café, so I tried my own method. This didn’t work and I walked quite a long way in the wrong direction (having become turned around in a shopping mall the helpful woman from the morning had led me through).
After asking general directions to the road I needed, I limped into the Internet shop eventually, and sat there for a bit until they closed. I was the last one out; following a young woman who suggested a couple of places where I might like to eat supper. It was 8 pm by this time, so I thought I might as well grab a bite before heading back to my lodging. Maureen guided me to a restaurant, which served spicy food, and decided to join me. She was from Jamaica so she liked her food hot. I could have stood it toned down a bit, but didn’t complain, though it was the hottest salad dressing I’ve ever tasted. Thanks heavens the chicken I’d ordered to go with it was the mild kind. The restaurant, Nando’s, was supposed to be Portuguese, but I have to say I never tasted food like that when I was in Portugal.
I left Maureen to wait for her husband to get off work, saying I was going to catch a cab back, because I couldn’t walk another step. However, while I wandered up the street looking for a taxi, I realized I wasn’t far from the train station and I knew my way home….still a few blocks away, but silly to take a cab. When I arrived ‘home,’ I crawled up the stairs, ditched my shoes (which I swore I would replace at the earliest opportunity), undressed and staggered into bed almost immediately. It was almost 10 pm by then—and I slept soundly until my alarm went off early the next morning in time for me to get up and catch my bus to Haworth.
I was up bright and early and ready for breakfast by the time they began to serve at 7:15 am, however, I had to hurry along the cook as my taxi was coming ten minutes later. I gobbled down some scrambled eggs and toast, washing it down with orange juice, still chomping when my ride arrived.
The establishment itself was a little scuzzy and the business aplomb not there. (See Arriving in Leicester blog). I wasn’t sure how clean my room was, although the bedding seemed to be okay. The garbage hadn’t been emptied from the previous tenant, I didn’t want to step barefooted on the floors plus the top quilt was very old, thin and stained. I never saw the owner in the morning and the phones, even the pay phone, were shut off, so I had to borrow the young cook’s cell phone to call my taxi. I also paid her for my night’s lodgings, hoping it made it into the right hands. So it was good-bye to Leicester, a place that I wouldn’t want to live in.
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