It won’t have escaped your notice that there was no blog post from yours truly last week and whilst this may seem slipshod, believe me I have a ripping good reason.

Derbyshire to be precise.

Following what can only be described as a torrid time recently my good lady wife and I headed for the hills in need of a break and some peace and calm. And we found it in the High Peak.

So get yourself comfortable for a few minutes while I tell you all about it…

Ange and I were feeling very world weary after what can only be described as “a bastard of a time.” We’ve had illnesses, bereavements, worries and woes and it was definitely time for a holiday of some sort.

We like AirB&B and so we sought one out that was reasonably priced, wasn’t too far to travel to and would afford us the aforementioned peace and calm. We chose Curlew Lodge at Sitch Farm in the High Peak of Derbyshire, a few miles south of Glossop.

And we’re damn glad that we did. It was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful in fact. A delightful little lodge set in the most beautiful scenery you could imagine and completely hidden away from the hustle and bustle of life.

Perfect! Just what we needed.

Our accommodation was compact yet still spacious enough; even for my massive bulk. It was spotlessly clean, smelled beautifully of reed diffusers and was full of so many nice little extra “touches” that it made it feel almost luxurious.

All for sixty quid a night!!!

We didn’t find one single fault with the place. Not that we were actively looking for one but you know what I mean. There were zero downsides to the lodge.

Four nights we stayed – Monday to Friday, and we made it a mix of exploring and relaxing. My legs will only allow us to do small amounts of exploring but I’m a past-master at the old relaxing.

So we arrived on Monday afternoon to be met with by a rather shouty German Shepherd. A dog I mean; there wasn’t some guy in a Tirolean hat and lederhosen loudly mouthing off at us. But this dog was letting the whole world and it’s owners know that we had arrived. The big fella was just doing his job.

And if truth be known, as well as a clean lodge this was an incredibly clean farmyard. The whole place screamed neatness, in a good way. We then met Julia, our host, who couldn’t have been more helpful if she’d transformed herself into a High Peak guidebook. Her local knowledge was excellent.

We spent the rest of Monday doing some of that relaxing I mentioned and yes, wine and G&T’s were opened and consumed. We were on holiday after all and the weather (so shite all Summer) was quite glorious. We felt both blessed and spoilt at the same time.

I was so relaxed, in fact, that I didn’t even have the energy to turn the telly on and watch the BBC2 quiz shows. Instead we told Alexa to play some Jethro Tull and just crashed out and enjoyed the music and the ambience.

The next day we headed for the town of Buxton. The weather was again stupendous and it was a pleasure to drive over the dales to that bucolic little spa town. We paid for six hours of parking with the view that we were going to take our time. To be honest my legs weren’t feeling great and therefore necessitated that I go as slowly as possible.

Actually, it was so nice to merely amble about the place. It’s a gorgeous town is Buxton and there’s so much to see. We did a bit of shop browsing and I bought some records before heading to the park to eat the lunchtime samosas we had acquired from a market stall. They were as delicious as samosas can get and as we sat on the park bench under the shade of the trees Ange threw a little of the crust of one of her samosas to a plump little pigeon who was clearly no stranger to being fed by tourists…

 Within moments we were surrounded by avian beings of all shapes and sizes. There were ducks, Canada geese, crows, jackdaws and a host of even more pigeons. For a brief moment or two it felt distinctly Hitchcockian as these feathered friends all competed for our samosa crusts.

However, they were the politest park birds I have ever come across and they all acknowledged that the food was gone and slowly moved away in a most dignified fashion.

We moved away too and took a slow stroll to the pavilion where I had the most delicious pint of local porter and we sat in the sunshine for a bit whilst we had our drinks to top up the old vitamin D.

There were quite a lot of folks milling about for a Tuesday, which was nice to see. It seems to me that Buxton is doing well; thriving even.

We visited the Crescent and stopped at St Ann’s Well where I filled my own bottle of Buxton mineral water for £2.50 for 250ml. A bit steep for water but it was straight from the source. After a latte we made our way back through town at a snails pace, stopping for ice creams and a bit more shopping.

Look, when I say shopping, I don’t mean that we dragged ourselves round M&S and Fat Face and all those other high street regulars. Ange and I don’t do that kind of thing. No, we like charity shops and all those quirky little places that sell incense and hippie-ish things. We go into dusty old antique emporiums, second-hand bookshops and absolutely anywhere that sells vinyl. That’s the kind of shopping we do.

We arrived back at the car at half past four after a splendid day and despite having another 90 minutes on the parking ticket I was pretty much done in by now. The car itself was like stepping into a pottery kiln and we opened all four windows for a while before setting off on the scenic journey back to the lodge, stopping at the Lantern Pike pub for some “light refreshments” on the way. Smashing little place is the Lantern Pike. A proper old local village pub.

By the time Wednesday rolled around I was in quite intense pain and so we decided that a full day of rest was the order fo the day. And that’s precisely what we did. Yet again we were treated to the most magnificent weather of the week so far and so we sat outside on the decking all day with a beverage or three and just inhaled the pure, clean Derbyshire air.

We read a lot too. I began to re-read Vole and make little highlighter marks here and there where it needs cleaning up a bit. I don’t count it as work because it was so enjoyable and it reinforced my view of the book as a great piece of comic writing. I really enjoyed myself actually.

We ate too much during the day; of course we did, we were on holiday, but we did have a healthy evening meal – salmon for Ange, steak for me, broccoli and baby potatoes. Washed down with a very decent little cabernet sauvignon.

Spent another evening engaged in the fine art of listening to music and watching the little robotic lawnmower going erratically about its business in the paddock next to us. I don’t know why but every time I saw that funny little machine I laughed. If it had gone up and down in straight lines it wouldn’t have been so amusing but the fact that it went in every possible direction apart from straight lines made it hilarious. My sense of humour I suppose.

Thursday arrived and we were nearing the end of our short stay. We vowed to make the most of it and headed south to the Matlock area. That’s an area I know very well from childhood. My dad was from Belper and my mum is from Wirksworth so I spent a lot of my youth roaming that neck of the woods.

Our first stop was the village of Cromford. The village itself is not spectacular. It’s pretty enough and there are some great walks around the place but I wanted to go there for one reason and one reason only – Scarthin Books.

Without the merest shadow of a doubt Scarthin is the best bookshop in the known universe. Yes, even better than Thraags World of Books on Planet Skryk. Oops, I’ve said too much. Seriously though, it is a marvel of a bookshop.

The phrase Aladdin’s Cave doesn’t do it justice. The place is a veritable temple to literature both new and second-hand. The smell is enough to make any bibliophile wet themselves with glee and its almost as if you don’t know where to look. There’s just so much choice which at first seems random but you soon realise that it’s all actually very cleverly worked out.

It also boasts a small yet superb little café. We each had a bowl of green vegetable soup for lunch and I swear I could feel it doing me good even as it was going down my gullet! I felt most virtuous with myself at that point. Another time I’d have plumped for a less healthy option but that soup was incredibly flavoursome. I think it had mint in it as well.

And yes, I did buy some books.

After that we drove back up to Matlock and spent an hour or two roaming the town. I was struggling by now and desperate for a sit down. So after buying a very cute little antique kitchen cupboard from a shop called Junk and Gems (or something like that) we made for the park and had ice cream and a well-earned rest.

We left Matlock at four thirty and headed back North. We were booked in for a meal at the Lantern Pike at six and we made it with twenty minutes to spare. Not that we needed to worry about being a few minutes late if we had have been, they are so chilled out there that it wouldn’t have even been a point of contention.

Had a lovely meal. I can still taste the lamb shank with mint gravy and creamy mash in my dreams and the three pints of Guinness that I rinsed it all away with were pure excellence in a glass. If you’re ever in that area then you would be doing yourself a big favour by visiting the Lantern Pike. Not only is the food superb it is also very reasonably priced plus the staff and locals are so friendly.

Friday morning came, as it tends to do, and our little break came to an end. However we determined to make the most of the journey home and so we bid a fond farewell to Curlew Lodge and after having driven through some clouds (literally) we stopped for lunch in Holmfirth.

We dined in Sid’s Café, which of course was made famous in the long-running sitcom – Last of the Summer Wine. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the place hasn’t actually changed all that much since the programme began in the 1970s. The only major difference was all the “souvenirs” for sale. Mind you, I did buy a tin of toffee for my mum.

The journey back home was slow due to horrendous roadworks in Halifax. I don’t know what Halifax has done to deserve such ill treatment but it must have been something bad. However, it didn’t spoil things and we carried the memories of the last few days with us.

So home again and feeling very relaxed, thank you very much.

Ok, so we didn’t visit any famous landmarks like the Pyramids of Giza or the Taj Mahal and we didn’t get an all-over golden tan from lying on a sun-drenched tropical beach nor did we swim with dolphins, scuba dive with turtles or get off our tits on duty free or make berks of ourselves in a karaoke bar. We just had a quiet little time in North Derbyshire and we felt all the better for it. It had been our kind of holiday.

And now…

Now we’re already planning the next one!