SLOW RETURN - LATHKILL TO CONKSBURY

We've had far too long away and even now it's a stuttering start. Too many other demands on our time means we're lucky to squeeze in any walking at all.

But here we are at the Over Haddon car park and joy of joys, the toilets are open! We pay our parking charge (not cheap) and wrap up warm. Mollie is very keen and looking forward to a day out, as are we.

We've never seen many cars here even though there's extensive parking, so it must get busy at weekends or holidays, but today there are only a couple more cars.

We leave the cars and head right and down the steep lane. On the first bend a digger is carrying out some repairs, and further down the disabled parking area is full to bursting (but no disabled badge in sight).

We go down to the bottom where the River Lathkill is crossed by the bridge - and yet more cars are here.

We don't go over the bridge but turn left and follow the path at the side of the river. There's not much vegetation at this time of year, but there's plenty of mud! Not that it bothers us much, we have far too much to talk about.

We pass the picturesque weirs and meet some dog walkers, then once through the gate we decide to pause on the bench for a coffee and some ginger biscuits.

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Once refreshed we're on our way again, narrowly avoid being mown down by someone cyclists on Conksbury Bridge, then making our way up the road until we come to the path on our right. It leads to the farm and isn't properly signposted, but it is a public footpath.

Very easy walking here, and quite dry underfoot, until we have to pass through the farmyard and the quagmire next to the cattle yard. The gate is a bit of a pain to open but soon were striding across the field towards the woods.

We realise that we've run out of good places to stop for lunch, and we don't have far to go, so as we walk down the path through the woods we decide to detour through Lathkill Dale.

We cross the bridge, skirt the parked cars and turn left along the familiar track. The day has turned murky and down here there are still wisps of mist hanging in the tree canopies.

Eventually we find a good spot for a late lunch: a fallen tree next to the water. Mollie talks the chance to go and paddle as we settle down with food.

Then we hear some vehicles, and moments later a straggling convoy of 4 x 4s makes its way from down the dale, complete with dogs, guns and men in shooting garb. As we are finishing lunch they return, no doubt having enjoyed a 'proper' lunch to fortify themselves for their extreme sport. Watch out all you fearsome birds, the gunslingers are out to get you.

We saunter back along the dale, it's turning quite chilly now, especially down here. As we climb up the steep roadway to the car park we hear the sounds of gunshots in the distance. Glad we're not too close!

BIRTHDAY WALK AROUND LATHKILL DALE

Today's walk is our closest to PC's birthday, so she has the honour of choosing where to go so we are off around Lathkill and Conksbury on one of her favourite walks.

Unfortunately the weather doesn't seem to be too promising as we pull up in the car park at Over Haddon after we have both suffered from slow, tedious journeys to get here. Rain seems to be a distinct possibility too, so in order to be prepared I've brought the big brolly. If nothing else it will shelter our birthday buns when we are eating them.

This is a very familiar walk and we hardly need the map, but we bring it along with us, just in case. Like boy scouts, we like to be prepared.

Leaving the car park we head off down the sloping lane towards the valley bottom. The lane winds around a bit before we reach the bottom and find that the river is flowing briskly, but beautifully clear, thanks to recent rainfall.

We cross over the narrow bridge and onto the track at the far side which is a muddier mirror of the one we came down on: climbing steeply with a sharp bend. Mollie is allowed off the lead for a little while here, there are no sheep or livestock for her to bother with and she is completely engrossed in a game of find a stone to play with.

At the top of the track we go through the gate and into the field leading down to Meadow Place Grange Farm. At least the field isn't muddy (nor has any cows in it) but the farmyard, which we have to pass through, is most certainly muddy. But fortunately not deep.

We are soon on the hard-surfaced lane leading away from the farm and passing, on our left, the remains of the medieval village, the humps and lumps in the far fields less distinct on this murky day than they are in full sun.

Before long we are onto the tarmac road, and quite surprised at how quickly we are walking. We decide to try to find somewhere to stop for a drink which means taking a small path through a copse of trees on our right. We climb over a stile and down a slope with a hill on our right with small limestone crags and trees. It seems the only possible place to stop so we clamber up the hill and find a table of sorts cut into the crags. Alas there is nowhere to sit but that doesn't stop us. We break out the flask (orange gin) and a packet of maltesers while Mollie crunches up her biscuits. Well, it is PC's birthday after all.

Suitably replete, and after saying a Good Day to a few other walkers, we carefully go back down the hill and retrace our steps to the Conksbury Road. It is a narrow road, and some cars travel far too fast on it, so we are very careful and wary on the tight bends.

It doesn't take long to reach the lovely Conksbury Bridge where we pause to take a couple of photos and another couple race to pass us. They make a bee-line for the benches on the upward side of the bridge, clearly determined to stake their claim before we get there, although they can't know that we don't plan to sit there this time.

At the far side of the bridge we go through the gate at the side of the river and find the bench part way along vacant. We sit down and prepare for lunch.

Salad and sandwiches, coffee, a glass of birthday wine (red, to keep the chill at bay) and banoffee pies with fresh cream are the bun of the day. We start off with gusto, but gradually slow down as we get fuller and fuller. PC stoically manages to eat everything of hers, but I end up giving the last of my pie to Mollie - who isn't complaining.

We are well ahead of schedule so linger for  quite a time over our coffees as a few wakers pass us. Then we pack up our things and head on up the river.

We pass the tree with its fallen bough up on our right where we often sit on this walk, and Mollie heads towards it, clearly remembering. But not this time.

The river and its weirs are full today, and we watch with amusement as some ducks half paddle, half fly up the mini waterfalls. And we see a dipper as well as a grey wagtail. Clearly the late season hasn't put them off.

The path climbs up above the river and where it becomes rocky there is a fence-cum-handrail on the left hand side, very useful given the slickness of the boot-polished limestone when it is wet. Once down on the level again it is only a short walk back to the bridge where we set out. 

It does seem to be getting chillier, and duller, but as yet I have not needed the brolly at all (though no doubt if I hadn't brought it along we would have had to put up with a deluge). Then we are off up the last pull of the lane up to the car park. We see a lost balloon tangled in a shrub, its Happy Birthday message upside down but still amusingly appropriate.

Then we are back at the cars with enough time to sit for a while under our fluffy blankets (always handy when waiting around in a cold car) and chat some more.

No walking next week, PC is away for her birthday, but we are hoping to manage the week after.

OVER HADDON TO CONKSBURY CIRCUIT

Well we've managed it, the only wet (very wet!) day in a week of clear skies. Nice to see we haven't lost the knack.

Mollie is back with us today as we meet in the comparatively large car park at Over Haddon. We've only ever parked in the upper section as there have never been many cars when we've walked, but we can imagine it gets pretty full at the weekend. Of course it is a Pay and Display but it also has the benefit of toilets that are open.

Once we've togged up - waterproofs from the start today - we set off down the steep road to Lathkill Dale with the rain running in rivulets by our feet.

At the foot of the road we come to the River Lathkill which, no surprises, is flowing swiftly. It looks lovely despite the starkness of the winter landscape, and with the added addition of snowdrops on its scrubby banks. In fact, today turns out to be a very snowdroppy walk as we see them everywhere.



After some photos we cross over the clapper bridge and head upwards through the trees on the distinct track. This turns a sharp right then takes us higher still until we go through a gate and into a field which, thankfully, is devoid of cattle!

We cross the field and head towards the farm of Meadow Place Grange, once a monastic holding (see previous blog post) where we go through another gate and through a muddy yard. We then head for the track on our left which is relatively dry, unlike the muddy field path ahead. Glad we aren't going that way today.




As we walk along the farmer approaches with his tractor so we step aside out of his way. He waves his thanks as he passes and as I turn to see what PC is up to I see, for the first time despite looking for years, the distinctive outlines of Conksbury Medieval Village on the opposite hillside. Trees have obscured our view before though it is probably more obvious if walking from the opposite direction.

The link below gives the English Heritage listing for the site with more information.http://list.english-heritage.org.uk/resultsingle.aspx?uid=1014589
I have tried to find an aerial photo of the site but sadly had no success.

We continue along the track to the road, which tends to be quite busy for a small rural road, and go down it a little way before hopping onto a track on our right. We walk along a little way through some trees to a gate but decide to turn back as this clearly leads towards Alport and that isn't in our plan for the day.

Back at the road we walk downhill towards the impressive Conksbury Bridge and once at the far side we make a bee-line for the benches. They are wet but slightly sheltered from behind, and I have brought a large umbrella with just this scenario in mind. So, beneath the brolly we have a nip from PC's secret flask (the last of the Cointreau), a cup of coffee and two of today's buns (which are quite small, honest).

Sadly, despite appearances to the contrary, they are not up to the standard expected. They are quite dry and in need of a quick zap in the microwave. Not that it stops us eating them.

So with us set up and Mollie having had some biscuits we put down the brolly and take the path at the side of the Lathkill. There are a few walkers about now, but this is a lovely path which opens up to lovely views up the river. There are a pair of swans in the distance and moorhens bobbing around.



We scramble up the slippery slope on our right to find a makeshift seat on a fallen tree (been here before) and up comes the brolly again as we settle down for lunch proper. And it's a good job we have the brolly too as the heavens open and it absolutely pours down.

Salad, sandwiches, coffee and the last two buns which leave us with a sense of disappointment. Ah well, we'll know for next time.

By the time we have finished eating the rain does ease a little so we carefully step down the slope and back onto the path. Now we follow the river and as the path climbs up I avoid looking at the young cows, then we take care on the downward stretch and the limestone underfoot can be very slippery when wet.
We aren't far from the clapper bridge now but we still have the delights of huge clumps of snowdrops to enjoy. Then it is just the steady trudge up the steep hill and back to the car park.
Naturally, as soon as we are ready to leave the rain stops, and by the time I am half way home the sun even starts to shine. A fairly typical day's walk for us!

BEYOND YOULGREAVE AND THROUGH LATHKILLDALE

Well, the weather isn't too brilliant for today's walk, it is damp and foggy, but we are hoping for things to clear up later. But the first obstacle isn't so much the weather as actually meeting up.

Our plan, which seems eminently sensible when you look at the map, is to meet in the car park at the end of Moor Lane which leads out of Youlgreave. Simple, you'd think. Not so.

I'm the first to arrive by virtue of being the map reader and having a decent sense of direction, but it was touch and go. Moor Lane is a tiny offshoot from the main road in Youlgreave, easily missed unless you are expecting it and only signed with a hand painted sign. The narrow street I drove up looked as though it was someone's private driveway, then when I turned right onto the main lane I was greeted with a narrow lane and a sign saying 'Quiet Road'. To cut a long story short, it was an interesting drive and I was lucky only to encounter one car coming in the opposite direction (driven by an elderly gentleman who looked, quite frankly, scared and lost) and wasn't surprised to be first to arrive in the deserted car park.

To cut a long story short, it takes a few phone calls (thank goodness for modern technology and mobile reception) and hastily garbled directions (and a couple of chapters of my book as I wait) before PC manages to reach the car park a little late but in one piece and relieved not to have met any other traffic.

We're late setting off, but we're undaunted. We're Mollie-less until after Christmas so we only have ourselves to sort out, and we dress ourselves in our waterproofs from the outset as we doubt that the weather will clear much.

PC worries that the day won't produce many decent photos - there is the prospect of good views from the edge of the car park on a clear day, but all we see is murk - so she starts snapping straight away.

We walk down the 'quiet lane' and haven't gone far before a farm lorry comes rumbling up behind us! We both scale the grass bank at the side of the road and thank our lucky stars that we didn't meet it when we were driving. Once the lorry has passed we continue down the road, pause to photograph a statuesque tree which is posing grandly, then meet a footpath on our left which crosses a couple of grassy fields to another road (Back Lane).

Across the road we take the next footpath which, again, crosses fields. One thing that becomes immediately apparent is that the stiles around here are not terribly forgiving! Many are high off the ground for their first step meaning a good leg stretch for all but the long limbed, then fairly high too. No matter though. We're coping without any trouble and the weather has improved slightly too.

It is a fairly straight path, punctuated only by stiles, downhill towards Meadow Place Grange, a large farmyard. The current farmhouse is a Grade II listed building dating from the 18th century, but the original grange farm belonged to Augustinians of Leicester Abbey until the dissolution of the monasteries. Today it is still a working farm, and as we paddle along the muddy path towards the very high stile - which we clamber over with grace and dignity (naturally) - we realise that it isn't long since the inhabitants of the field passed this way too. Sure enough, at the other side we see cattle inside a large barn, and one cow in particular seems very interested in what we are doing.

 

We cross through the farm yard (fortunately, not so muddy now) and take the path directly opposite which climbs gently through a grass field before bringing us to the top of Meadow Place Wood.

The downhill path between the trees is a bit slippery in places, but soon we are approaching the River Lathkill and the footbridge adjacent to the ford. A group of hikers are sat around having lunch (is it that time already?) but we press on and onto the path which runs along the length of the Dale.

It seems very murky and gloomy in the Dale, although the recent rain has meant that the river is high. We have been here in the past when there has been no water at all, but not today. There are hardly any people about, not surprising since the weather has turned damp again. It doesn't encourage people to get out and we suspect many people will have hung up their boots for the winter. 

It is a pleasant enough walk along Lathkill Dale, even if the weather is grim, and we are able to talk about all sorts of things. One thing we do notice, though, is the amount of broken and shattered timber left over from last week's gales. Glad we weren't here then.

We are getting peckish but there aren't very many stopping points to eat a picnic, especially in the rain. The one place we were hoping to stop (opposite the path we will need later) is already occupied so we walk a little further until we find a comfortable ledge of limestone on which to sit.

We need a small drink of Ramblers first, and this is the last of the batch. Good job I have another bottle at home ready for straining. From the Ramblers we move onto coffee to warm us up before we start on the sandwiches. There's not a lot to say about sandwiches (other than they are very welcome) as it is the bun that excites our interest. Today they are muffins, with cream and a 'spiced fruit compote'. The compote has a few small lumps of fruit it in, not much, but it does make a nice change, and muffins always go down well. A second coffee sets us up ready for the next part of the walk.

We retrace our steps and once again we cross the river, climbing up the limestone path into Calling Low Dale. Thank goodness we chose to do the walk this way around as the slippery limestone requires care and the risk of falling always seems greater when going downhill.

Calling Low Dale is very quiet even though it leads to the Limestone Way, although most walkers in Lathkill Dale probably tend to go 'end to end'. The narrow path forks and we take the left hand, downward path which takes us to a wooden stile and a signpost. Yes, we're going in the right direction, although the sight ahead is not appealing. Steep limestone steps climbing seemingly straight up a very steep hillside. Once again we are reminded of the stairs of Cirith Ungol (Lord of the Rings) and hope that Shelob isn't at the top waiting for us!

We keep our eyes on where we are putting our feet, it is drizzling with rain again and we don't want to slip, but despite the climb we ascend with more ease that we had expected, although it may have been better to have walked up before the muffins (although PC is adamant that she needed the energy from the muffins to get up here). The views are pretty good, but spoiled by the poor weather. We'll have to revisit on a clear day.

We are on the Limestone Way now, and the path is very clearly signposted which is a rare bonus. We pass Calling Low Farm, skirting the buildings via fields and a small copse, then come out to another field. Here an eager horse trots up to greet us, clearly not thrilled with staying out in the cold and wind, and trying its hardest to persuade us to either feed it or take it in. Eventually it leaves us and goes to look over the field gate to the farm, hoping to attract attention.

 

The path across the field is diagonal, with an interesting waterlogged section in the centre, but we're soon over it and into the edge of another small wood before emerging back onto farmland. Here again the signposting is very clear and we are soon within sight of the blue P sign for our car park. Not far to go, and only one final stretch of a stile for us to negotiate.

From here we don't have far to walk before we are back at the cars in the otherwise empty car park. Despite the weather, and the initial problems finding our starting point, the walk has been very good. We've managed to go on paths we've never ventured on before, and we'll be taking a slightly different route home!

Since this is to be our last post of 2013 we wish everyone a very Happy Christmas and an excellent New Year.

ALONG THE RIVER LATHKILL

We can't believe it. We've missed a couple of weeks during which the whole area has been experiencing rain of biblical proportions, and we've chosen to walk on a gloriously sunny day without a rain cloud in sight! 

We'd already altered our plans to avoid slogging through quagmires so we meet up in the Over Haddon car park (Pay and Display but it has toilets open until October) slightly dismayed to discover numerous other cars parked here and a group hike being organised. We hang back and let the hoards leave whilst PC fills her secret flask with cointreau and Mollie sets herself up with a couple of biscuits. We're already catching up on news and gossip as we pay our parking fee, shoulder our rucksacks and set off down the steep road towards Lathkill Dale.

PC's foot is a little better, and we're hoping it continues to improve, so we take it steady down the tarmac road. A couple of walkers with a pair of collie dogs pass us and reach the bottom before we do.

For the first time in ages we can see the River Lathkill in full flow. Sparklingly clear water is gushing down the frequently dry riverbed and the shallow ford isn't quite so shallow at the moment. We've already made our mind up that we won't go right through the nature reserve and Lathkill Dale, nor cross the footbridge which leads to Meadow Place Grange, rather we're going to follow the river downstream towards Conksbury.

The path is narrow here beside the river, and the river itself is squeezed tight, making it rush and boil ferociously. Fortunately Mollie shows no inclination to dip her paws as there would be a serious risk of her being washed away. We go through a gate where the path moves away from the river, then upwards on a slippery limestone path, always worse in the wet. At least there are some fence rails to help.

By now we're in an elevated position and through the trees we can see how the river has widened as it approaches a series of weirs with a backdrop of limestone cliffs. The water is crystal clear but the prolific underwater weed lends it a beautiful green hue which is enhanced by sunlight.

The path dips down through meadows then runs alongside the river and its weirs again. A solitary swan is cruising along the water at a stately pace oblivious to people a few feet away.

It isn't long before we reach Conksbury Bridge, a Grade II Listed 18th century road bridge, but with medieval origins. It is a lovely bridge and since it carries the road from Bakewell to Hartington there is a fair amount of traffic for such an out of the way place, and a lot of drivers stop off just to have a look at the view. Who can blame them?

We find a series of 3 benches nestling under the trees at the side of the bridge so decide to stop for a quick drink. Out comes the secret flask (perfect) followed by some coffee. We can afford to linger, our planned walk isn't too far and we don't really want to rush back towards 'real life'! However, Mollie doesn't like being so close to the road and is very nervy whenever a car passes, so we pack up our things and press on across the bridge (pausing to admire the river up and downstream) and up the hill towards Conksbury.

We're only just level with the site of Conksbury Medieval Village when we decide to check the map, and cross the road to a footpath sign where we can stand in a wood so that Mollie feels safe. After checking the map we abandon our original plan (a walk we've done previously but in reverse) to follow the path we have now found. Never been on it before, so it appeals to our sense of adventure.

The path takes us through some woods and to open fields which dip down towards the river again. We haven't walked far before we come to a narrow lane, which we cross. To our left the lane goes over a pretty bridge over the river, to our right is a beautiful stone house called Reaper Lodge.

We follow the path along the edge of fields with the winding river away to our left. The fields closer to the river are waterlogged, and one has a sizable lake in the middle of it.

It isn't long before we discover how wet this part of the walk can be. We pass through a crush-stile onto a narrow, fenced path only to see the path ahead totally submerged. A walker is making his way carefully towards us wearing wellies, so we decide to wait to hear his verdict. When he reaches us he admits that he thought his wellies were going to be swamped at one point, so we don't have much chance in our hiking boots. However, the rest of his walking group are apparently making their way through the adjacent field so we decide to do the same. We pass the group and are warned that we have to climb a gate or fence at the other end. No problem!

Of course, we hadn't taken account of Mollie deciding to be extremely dim-witted when we reach the gate. I go over the fence first, but Mollie won't follow. We try to encourage her to go under, over or through, but she appears to have brain block. In the end PC picks her up (no mean feat) and hands her over the gate to me before climbing over herself. Mission accomplished.

 

We're now in Alport, a village we have never visited before, and are immediately taken with how pretty it is. The name of the village apparently derives from 'Portway' (or Port-weg as the Anglo-saxons called it), an ancient, pre-roman trackway running from SE to NW and still used by pack horse teams up until the end of the 18th century.

The River Lathkill runs under the bridge and we spend a few minutes watching a dipper as it ducks and dives under the deep, fast flowing water before crossing over to the other side of the road. There's a red telephone box here - a fast disappeared British monument - and the start of walks along Bradford Dale. The bridge wall curves around and we notice that, set into it, is a stone pillar. It looks like the bottom part of an old cross and although there is a photo of on: http://www.derbsyshireheritage.co.uk I can't find any information about its date nor any other details.

We decide that we'll return to Alport at another time to explore further, but for now we must be on our way. We walk north out of the village then turn left onto the appropriately named Dark Lane which rises steeply from the road and is shrouded by trees. We're surprised at how quickly we climb and we soon have excellent views all around.

The top of Dark Lane - which is only a track but is open to traffic (beware the dreaded 4x4 brigade) - levels out and approaches a cattle barn. Here our plans change again. We had intended to plough straight on across the fields, following the straight line of the lane until we came to Noton Barn Farm close to Over Haddon. But there are cows in the fields. Lots of them. And right across the path. My aversion to cows kicks-in big time so instead we go through a gate (just into the cow field, but they are some distance away so we're safe) then turn sharp left to go through another gate into a field of sheep - much safer. From here the path takes us diagonally across a couple of fields to the Conksbury road.

When we reach the road we have the option of going straight on, and so directly to Over Haddon, or down the road to the bridge and back along the side of the river. Since the path across the road has been ploughed up and looks as though it will be very heavy going, we choose the second option and walk down the road instead.

We still haven't had lunch so we decide to sit on the single bench at the side of the river for a while. Except that the bench is already occupied! We carry on towards the weirs and find, instead, a fallen tree up on the hillside. Perfect.

We settle down on the natural seat and fetch out lunch; sandwiches, coffee and buns. Today the buns are a little on the large side - fresh cream apple turnovers with lots of apple and lashings of cream. A hopeful duck waddles up from the water, ignoring Mollie as it focuses on the buns. No chance! Not even Mollie will get a lick of cream.

It is extremely pleasant sitting here, and warm too. We can look down at the river and the path which has more walkers out now that the weather is holding good. And we have time to linger, to chat, to look at photos. Filled to the brim with buns and coffee there is very little incentive to move on!

But move on we must, eventually. We descend to the path then retrace our steps along the side of the river. When we reach the footbridge we stand in the middle to watch the water rushing beneath our feet, but Mollie isn't too keen. Then all we have to do is make the steep but steady climb back up the road to Over Haddon and the cars.

It has been a wonderful day in glorious weather, made better by us being able to cover ground we haven't been on before. And we've manged to find the start for our next walk too.

LATHKILL DALE TO CONKSBURY BRIDGE

Todays walk was destined not to happen. We'd arranged, re-arranged, cancelled and swapped to get this walking day, then at the last minute it was almost stopped in its tracks, but with a late start we eventually arrive at the small, tucked-away car park in the lovely village of Over Haddon above Lathkill Dale.

With a poor weather forecast and a chill wind we put on another layer of clothes and pack the waterproofs before setting off. On leaving the car park we are warmly greeted by one of the locals; a very friendly fluffy cat who insists on being stroked, tickled and generally made a fuss of before we are allowed to continue.

Then we're walking down the steep, winding road to the dale bottom. We pause to admire the wayside flowers, campion, forget-me-not, cow parsley, and it's so obvious that we're in the White Peak again. Down at the bottom of the road is a huge swathe of blue flowered comfrey - otherwise known a knit-bone. Might come in useful for PCs husband!

We're crossing over to the other side of the River Lathkill today for the first time but we have to stop to read the signs on the gateway of the riverside cottage. They clearly have dogs as the normal "Beware of the Dog" sign is replicated in numerous languages. Our favourite is "Chiens Lunatiques". Says it all!

Crossing the river is a bit of a let down, as the river has completely disappeared, something it is prone to do during excessively dry weather. The ford is a mere puddle but we still go over the footbridge from where we have a superb view of the dry river bed smothered in lush, wild flowers. Landscape designers take note, nature does it better.

We follow the track uphill through the woods accompanied by extremely loud birdsong - another sure sign we're in the White Peak. Through the trees we can see the impressive rocky hillside, as well as hundreds of wild flowers including bluebells.

Then, on the side of a tree PC spots some fungi looking like an exotic bunch of very expensive flowers. The bank is too steep to clamber up, but she still managed to get a photo.

We keep stopping to admire the flowers (honest) then, where the path turns back on itself we see a wonderful array of bluebells dotted with lacy cow parsley and button-bright pink campion. Magic.

At the end of the track we come to a gate which takes us through into a field. There is serious cow potential here, not that PC is bothered, she's too busy taking photos of the clouds, but I'm a bit apprehensive.

Luckily, the cows seem to be in distant fields so we cross the cropped grass towards the appropriately named Meadow Place Grange. The path takes us between farm buildings (still no cows - phew) and in front of the house.

A large group is approaching the Grange on the path from either Youlgreave or Middleton, but we take the left hand farm track instead. It must be quite annoying for those who have footpaths running close to their homes or through their yards. Years ago, when these paths were established, they were only used for locals - mainly for work or for visiting - but now, with walking such a national hobby, hundreds of people can pass through in a week. It's no wonder farmers get annoyed, especially when walkers don't respect property or the rules of the countryside.

Anyway, we walk along the farm track discussing Pride and Prejudice - the 'proper one' as done by the BBC. And our talk naturally drifts onto other adaptations of books too. We stop as a large bird flaps out of cover across the field from us, and we recognise it as a buzzard. Brilliant. Sadly, it keeps hidden, so we move along.

There is a buried medieval village hereabouts at Conksbury, but the greenery is too lush and we're too close to be able to make out the lumps and bumps that signify its position.

We reach the road and turn left where it takes us steeply downhill to Conksbury Bridge, which is extremely picturesque with is very low arches. Surprisingly, there is plenty of water here.

Crossing the bridge we take the path running alongside the river and are followed at a discreet distance by a male swan as we approach its mate which is sitting on its nest in the middle of the river.

A short distance upstream and we find a convenient bench on which to sit and eat lunch where we can (just) see the swans, as well as watch some black and white ducks, and some very fast ducklings.

Scrummy danish pastries and cinnamon swirls to eat bring the ducks and swan up close, but they're out of luck. They probably sense our reluctance to part with food as they paddle away without bothering to wait for the non-existent crumbs.

After lunch we continue to saunter on the path upstream. It is really easy walking here with the path wide enough for pushchairs and probably even wheelchairs.

It opens out into a wide green space where the river is broken by a number of weirs, and when we climb up above the weirs we can see their eerie construction beneath the clear, blue-tinged water. They look like something out of Tomb Raider.

The path keeps high above the water now, but the water is gradually diminishing so that, by the time we reach the rugged (and potentially slippy) part of the path the river has, once again disappeared.

Once back on the level we're walking through shoulder high clumps of comfrey again which means we're almost back to the footbridge. All that is left for us to do is walk up the steep winding slope to the car park - much harder than walking down - and reflect on how lucky we've been that the promised rain never fell.