LOSE SOME - NOT QUITE A CIRCUIT AND NOT COMPLETELY DRY

We're doing something very sensible for this walk, although we tend to consider it a bit of a cheat. We meet up at the base of Winnats Pass, abandon one car, transfer rucksacks, walking gear and bodies (ours) into the other car, then drive to Hope where we park and get ready to walk.

We start off along Edale Road which is narrow enough to provide some close encounters with a few passing vehicles, but it's the kind of easy, level walking that's just right for warming up the muscles.

Just before we reach Townhead Bridge we take the left hand track which leads, not surprisingly, to Townhead and, ultimately, Lose Hill. We pause to admire a garden's flourishing patch of Bears Britches (Acanthus spinosus) before pressing on up the gentle incline. As we come to a fork in the track, and knowing we need the left hand path, we see a group of half a dozen teenage lads sorting out their gear. On seeing us they hurry up and continue on their way, no doubt expecting to outstrip us easily. We expect them to outstrip us easily too.

We pause to remove a layer, it is warm and despite a few smatterings of rain we don't want to don waterproofs, then continue up hill. A short while later - and it is a short while - we reach the stile which takes us onto an enclosed track. The stile is decorated with half a dozen resting teenagers. We can almost hear their groans of horror as they pick up their rucksacks and stagger over the stile as we wait for them to get a move on.

We give them a couple of minutes start before we follow. The track feels very old, hollowed out by the passage of many feet with banks at either side and arching trees meeting overhead like the soaring columns of a natural cathedral. We have splendid views across the valley and can clearly see the line of the old Roman Road on the opposite hill.

It's a steady pull up this track and we pause a number of times to admire the view - and to let the boys ahead get out of the way. They are really very slow.

Eventually we see the top of the track where, once through a gate, the path emerges onto open moorland in the final pull up to Lose Hill. When we pass through the narrow gate we find the boys laid out on the damp grass looking rather the worse for wear. We, naturally, nimbly skip past them and power up the next patch of ground, just to show them how it should be done.

We pause to admire a stand of foxgloves (yes, and to get our breath back, we're not made for power-walking) then continue to meander up the very steep hill. We're above the trees here and the views are extensive, reaching all the way along the first loop of the Edale valley. We do keep looking back, still no sign of the boys.

Naturally, we have a few pauses on the way uphill, no point in rushing and missing the view. After a while the boys come into range again, only for them to all collapse in a heap once more. This sorry sight is repeated a few times on the way up. They obviously didn't have their Weetabix for breakfast!

We, on the other hand, are making excellent time, so we decide to stop and have a drink and a bun. Ah yes, it's turned into a double bun day purely by accident. It's PCs turn for coffee, but she wasn't sure so brought buns as well - just in case. Being my turn for buns I'd brought buns and had also remembered to fill the secret flask (with the last of the Ramblers Restorative, I must make some more). So we sit and enjoy a nip from the flask, some coffee and a fresh cream scone.

(Whilst doing so the boys - after another rest 20 yards south of us - manage to stagger past us to rest, again, 20 yards north of us. They eat lunch in almost total silence, the lack of noise suggesting they have little breath left for talking.)

Dark clouds are looming so we decide to press on - having ascertained that the boys have already gone before and have a good enough lead for us not to catch up with them again. It was beginning to get embarrassing - for them!

As we reach the final stile on the route to the summit we do the sensible thing and pull on our waterproofs. The wind is starting to make itself felt and the dark clouds are racing across the sky. It all looks very dramatic.

Sure enough, the heavens open, but not for long. We could have managed without the waterproofs, but now they're on we'll leave them for a while. The sky hasn't cleared and we could be in for more rain.

By the time we reach the summit of Lose Hill we have a magnificent 360 degree view around us, including of Win Hill, the Great Ridge and Mam Tor, Castleton, and the less than impressive cement works. And the sun is shining too. This is what walking is all about.

Descending from the summit is quite direct and height is lost quickly. The path is fenced in by post and wire on one side and a semi-dilapidated stone wall on the other. For some odd reason there are large way-marking cairns at the side of the path, pretty pointless as it would be almost impossible to lose your way on this part.

As we cross the ridge we can see the dark clouds gathering again at the head of Edale and the telltale signs of rainfall at Grindsbrook. Then it all turns very eerie. As the rain starts to sweep down the valley the cloud drops and everything is completely obscured behind a sheet of white.

Its like looking through a fog, or a blizzard, but turning eyes right we can still see bright sunshine at the other end of the valley.

Then the rain hits us. Wow, it really means it. Thank goodness we'd kept out wet-weather gear on as we definitely need it. It's still pouring as we start our decent of Back Tor but thankfully it starts to ease off as we pick our way down the rocky hill being especially careful now that it's turned slippery.

By the time we reach the bottom the rain has stopped and we climb over the stile as the sun breaks out again. And when the sun shines it really is warm, and a bit steamy too.

It's been a while since the bun stop so we find a good place for lunch using some flat stones on top of the dry stone wall. It's very comfortable with a good view down to Castleton, although it isn't that easy to pick out the castle. After sandwiches, though, we decide to carry on before having coffee and second buns (do we sound like Hobbits?) so we walk to Hollins Cross narrowly missing a group of teenagers (no, not the same ones - they've disappeared off the face of the earth) then take the path down towards the base of Mam Tor.

Eventually we find a comfortable mound to sit on where we while away the time drinking coffee and eating fresh cream chocolate muffins. We feel as though we deserve them. In the distance we see yet more school groups enjoying the great outdoors and down on the Castleton Road, there are at least half a dozen coaches parked, with probably more in the main car park. It seems as though every school trip, Duke of Edinburgh outing and groups of Lost Boys has congregated here today.

We check our watches and realise that we need to get a move on. We dispense with the waterproofs, the sun is out and everything has warmed up dramatically, and we make our way over a couple of boggy patches to the remains of the old road, most of which has been destroyed by the Shivering Mountain.

As we walk down the road to car number one (narrowly avoiding being run over by a coach) we start to sniff. Not because we have a cold, or hayfever, but because there is a wonderful, sweet smell. We study the hedgerows, peer over walls - nothing. Then inspiration strikes. Plucking a clover flower we discover the source of the perfume. Red and white clover on the sparse grass verges are almost impossibly fragrant. Neither of us have ever been aware of the sweet smell of this common weed.

All too soon we're back in the car and driving through the heaving main road of Castleton towards Hope where we're reunited with car number two. It's been an excellent walk and it's been a good way of doing it. We'll have to cheat a little more often.

WIN SOME - UP TO WINHILL PIKE

We'd felt a sense of panic when our normal walking day had to be suspended, but luckily we were able to rearrange and we chose to walk up Win Hill. Fine, except we haven't as much time as usual. Are we up to it?


The last few days have been unusually hot, but the forecast is for rain, so we've come prepared with sun cream and waterproofs. No lingering in the lay-by today, we need to get a move on, so from our parking spot on the road next to Ladybower we're soon on the way. Then PC realises she's forgotten her walking poles so she has to go back for them. While I wait I check out the best route.


Off again and we're crossing the dam. The earth-bank wall is covered with blanket of yellow flowers looking bright and cheerful.

At the other side, the water isn't too high.

At the far side of the dam we turn right then take the track that climbs up to the left. It's quite rocky underfoot, and in places a bit soggy after the heavy rain and thunderstorms of last night, but we're able to push on at a good pace.


On reaching the top we come to a gate, go through it then pause to remove a layer. We're down to shirt sleeves, a rare event this year!


We turn left on a broad track which starts to climb slowly but steadily through the trees. There's no one else about and we have the path to ourselves. The conifers aren't planted too closely together here, so the woods aren't too dense or gloomy, and there's a broad expanse of grass and bracken at either side of the path.


We're surprised at how easy the walking is and how soon we meet the path on Parkin Clough, where we turn right and climb steeply uphill. We once walked the whole length of Parkin Clough, from bottom to top, an unrelenting slog where we debated who was going to be Sam and who would be Frodo. Not sure we ever came to a decision.


Anyway, we climb up through the trees, through a gateway in a drystone wall, then up again. We're in the open now and having plenty of stops. Ahead is the much eroded and repaired path up to Win Hill. I'm not sure whether I like the stone 'steps' or not, but they are a necessity on such a well used route.

Looking back the extensive views across all the Edges are beginning to emerge. Sadly, we also get a full frontal view of the cement works. What an eyesore!


We're on the last push to the summit now where we stop to enjoy the 360 degree panorama. It's too early for lunch but we decide to sit down for a coffee just as a group of teens reach the trig point after walking up from Hope. We find a spot a little way from them where we can sit and savour the view, the coffee and the contents of the secret flask.

It's very pleasant sitting here, though we've had to put our layers back on as it is quite breezy. There are a few more people about - Win Hill is a bit of a people magnet - but it's still relatively peaceful.


However, we're watching the clock so we pack up and set off again. A slight error of judgement (no, we aren't lost!) means we have to scramble around some rocks to regain the path, which doesn't actually go over the summit but skirts it, but we're soon back to easy, level walking again.


We leave the path, even though it is tempting to keep straight on, and take a narrow track through the heather. This starts to take us downhill and eventually we come to a gate in a wall leading to a partially felled plantation. The cut off tree trunks make a tempting seat so we decide to stop for lunch. We remember stopping here some years ago, in the pouring rain, but before the trees had been taken down.


Buns today are a little scrambled due to the heat, but after some improvisation of cutlery and plates we manage to due them justice. Fresh cream strawberry tarts with creme anglaise. They may not look as good as they did in the shop but there's nothing wrong with the taste. Perfect.


It would be too easy to sit here all day. We've lost the breeze, the sky is very slightly overcast which makes it comfortable, and the birds are singing their hearts out. But our eyes on the time we have to pack up and move on.


The path keeps us going downhill, in place a bit slippy and precarious, but we're descending rapidly. In no time at all we've reached the bottom track which hugs the contour of the reservoir. The banks at the side of the track are filled with airy grasses and foxgloves, and there is a sweetly scented honeysuckle twined around a hawthorn.


In no time at all we're back at the dam and heading back to the cars. We can just see the peak of Win Hill over the tops of the trees, and we congratulate ourselves on having managed the walk and a couple of stops with time to spare.

LOOPING THE LOOP, OR, GOING ROUND IN CIRCLES

I get a text as I sit in the car in the lay-by near the Grouse Inn near Longshaw. It's PC. She's in Baslow and the Grouse Inn isn't where she thought it was. After a hastily composed reply with directions I wait until I see her car steaming up the hill. Sadly, she brings the rain with her so we delay our start and sit out the heavy shower before setting off.

To say it's only just after Midsummer's Day it's pretty grim. Cold, windy, showery. Waterproofs are likely to be needed.

Crossing the first few fields at the side of Grouse Inn we are confronted by the wonderful sight of an old fashioned meadow full of summer flowers. The photo can barely do it justice, as the flowers look even better at close quarters. In the second field there is even a flush of spotted orchids, their pyramid spires peering out above the long grass. What a pity we don't see more meadows like this.

At the corner of the field we pass into the woods, and debate on which way to go. The last time we were here we took a wrong turn almost immediately and ended up on a meandering mystery tour. This time, though, we get our bearings and set off on the right track. It slopes steeply downhill between steep banks and beneath a green leafy canopy. It's easy to imagine this being a very old path.

We're in Hay Wood, which we only find out as we exit it and are on the track behind the nice houses of Nether Padley. The path takes us onto a tarmac road which we only follow for a few paces before veering right onto a path uphill again. We're in Oak Wood this time, and there are plenty of dog-walkers' paths criss-crossing the main track which climbs steadily uphill.

At the top we come to a familiar looking gate in a stone wall, and once through it we're pretty sure we've been here before. Of course, now it starts raining, so we shelter beneath a broad tree and wait for the shower to pass. And wait. And wait. In the end we decide to put on our waterproofs and venture out.

We (foolishly) ignore the indistinct track to our left instead choosing to go straight ahead through a gate and across a sheep field. Luckily the rain soon passes, the sheep ignore us and looking back we have the most amazing views.

By this time we've realised that we're on the wrong path but choose to carry on instead of back-tracking. We'll manage to sort out a route.

At the top of the field we go through a gate and walk behind the high drystone wall. We find some large bilberry bushes laden with fat, juicy ripe bilberries, so we have to stop for a healthy snack.

Then we follow the track uphill and into some trees which eventually bring us out at the back of the Grouse Inn. Not what we'd planned, but making the best of it we carry on, go through a couple of gates and out onto the road. So ends the first loop.

It's only a short distance along the road to the entrance to the Longshaw Estate. Here the path is wide, clear and very easy to walk on. Within a relatively short distance we find a conveniently place bench made from a fallen tree trunk, and we settle down for lunch. Out comes the coffee, the sandwiches and the buns. The secret flask is employed for purely warming purposes (the wind is really chilly) and it gives everything a rosy glow. However, even the contents of the secret flask can't compete with the fresh cream strawberry scones. Delicious. After a brief debate, citing examples from various sources, we come to the overwhelming conclusion that Morrisons definitely have the best buns.

It's time to move on, and there are more walkers about now on this popular path. It's straight, easy to follow and with no chance to make a mistake. PC stops to photograph some wonderful old trees and we walk a little faster when we spot a herd of cattle. There are far reaching views across to Higger Tor and Carl Wark, and close to there are the huge clumps of invasive rhododendron bushes.

The path takes us to the Lodge, where we pause for a few minutes, then we skirt around the back, past some children building shelters in the woods (it looks fun) and follow the wide track towards the Wooden Pole. We find another bench, and stop again to finish off the coffee. An inquisitive old Red Setter comes to see what we're doing, but is disappointed when we have nothing to give it.

We rejoin the path, but instead of heading to the Wooden Pole we veer right and take the track past the car park and through a narrow gate back into the woods. Here we make a slight error of judgement when we end up following a sheep track instead of the proper path. Well, it's an easy mistake to make. However, after having a lovely tour of the top of the Longstone Estate, we follow a fence line down hill to arrive - yes, back on the track that we came in on. So ends the second loop.

From here it's easy going. We retrace our steps, emerge onto the road then walk along it past the Grouse Inn and to our cars. Typically, the weather has eventually cleared up and there is the promise of some sunshine.

We feel as though we've walked quite a distance today although we haven't actually managed to go very far. Not that we mind. Despite the weather, it's been good to be out.

CASTLETON, CAVEDALE AND PINDALE

With half term over - and the worst of the revision for GCSEs and AS levels behind us - we were fighting to get out walking again.


Naturally, delays are inevitable when we're desperate, so our meeting time turns out to be much later than planned. Never mind, the main car park at Castleton isn't too full since it's only just rained - and pretty briskly too - which means that most people are keeping away, for now. The car park has probably the best views in Castleton of Peveril Castle as it glares down on the village from its vantage point.


The original castle was built soon after the Conquest and is named after William Peveril who became The Bailiff of the Royal Manors of the Peak. The castle was passed from father to son through successive generations but in 1155 - one year after acceding to the throne - Henry II took the castle into his own possession and in 1176 the present stone keep was constructed. Since then it has either belonged to the Crown or the Duchy of Lancaster. It is an English Heritage site. Although now it is only a romantic, evocative ruin in its heyday it would have been alien, imposing and downright intimidating.


We set off hoping that it won't rain again, but prepared for the worst. The clouds are pretty gloomy. I'm taking hiking poles today (not my idea!) but so far I'm only carrying them as we walk through the village and up the road next to the church (and The George pub - will have to go back there sometime soon).


There's no need to map read as we head for a gap, a car's width, between some cottages to our right. As soon as we're off the road the whole atmosphere changes. The trees arc over the path and slabs of limestone studded with greenery rise up beside us.


We push open the gate and Cavedale opens up ahead of us - enclosed by cliffs - stark and wonderfully picturesque. The monotonous guttural caw of the crows only adds to the atmosphere.

It's uphill - a lot more of the uphill than we remember - so I use the walking poles. Still not sure if they're a help or a hindrance, but they make my arms ache.


It's the time of year for schools' geography field trips, so we aren't too surprised to see some 'land art' - limestone rocks and stones spelling out the names of young loves. It's likely that the stone names will outlive the youthful infatuations!


There's no one else in the dale yet, but we can hear voices from above. Looking up see people up on the castle walls peering down at us. It's quite sobering to think how it would have been when the castle was at its most active - no doubt we'd have been used as target practise.


A little way past the castle and there's a cave, barred and padlocked now, and we can hear a generator or pump working somewhere deep below ground. PC remembers stopping at this cave for a coffee many eons ago!


The dale narrows quite a bit here and underfoot it's very rocky. There's a trickle of water working its way downhill after this morning's rain, but we've been up here in the past and almost paddling.


We continue to climb to the gate at the top of the dale, then decide impulsively to head around on a track to see the castle from a new vantage point. We follow the drystone wall, hop over it where the sheep have demolished it, and find ourselves somewhere to sit for a break. A prolonged break.


We really couldn't have found a better spot. The castle is at eye level to our left, the woods are in front of us and we can see almost the full length of the steep sided dale below us. Magic.

So we sit and talk, and have a drink, and sit and talk some more until we realise that it's past noon. Pragmatic as always we fetch out our sandwiches and coffee, but hold back on the buns to add some incentive to continue. We do toy with the idea of lounging here all day then just ambling back to Castleton, but the hoards are reaching the dale and although most don't make it to the top we don't want to get caught up with them all. So we pull ourselves up, repack our rucksacks, return to the gate and carry on up the valley.

As expected, there are very few people here even though the walking is easy - the worst is behind us. We see a bird dart into a crack in a broken down wall, and hear the frantic cheep of young before the bird re-emerges but we don't go closer for fear of disturbing them.

Despite the sun coming out it is quite cold, the wind is channelling down the valley, but apart from a few ominous clouds and a couple of drops of rain the weather isn't bothering us. We have an interesting and very curious discussion about cloud-watchers. It clearly takes all sorts!

We have to go through a field of cows, but fortunately they're keeping their distance (they know I have the walking poles) and soon we're on the track that runs from Winnats to Pindale, and turn left.

This is very easy walking, level but high enough to have decent views all around. The beauty of this part of the walk is that we know we're unlikely to see anyone at all. The few people that do reach this point tend not to take the route we're following.

One thing we begin to notice is that where there is an absence of drystone walls there's lots of new-looking fencing.

However, before we think too much about it we see a herd of calves clustered close to the fence in a field next to the track. They're a little shy and skittish but very cute (especially as they're behind a fence) and I even manage to approach and touch one of the braver ones. Bravery ends there as both calf and I rapidly exit in opposite directions!

As we walk on we begin to get a feeling that something isn't quite right. Last time we were here there was a huge quarry spoil heap to our left, and now there isn't. We pause, consult the map, and puzzle over it. Surely we can't be lost. Looking at the sparse grass in the fields we deduce that the spoil has gone, been spread out and the land reclaimed.

Sure enough, a little way on we see a sign-board that confirms our suspicions. The former site of Dirtlow Rake has been levelled and returned to pasture, removing a million tonnes of waste and importing soil from Hope in the process. It has opened up views of Mam Tor and the surrounding area as well as restoring valuable agricultural land. A pity the even larger limestone quarry at Bradwell and the monstrosity of a cement works at Pindale are still around to blight the landscape.

We follow the track downhill, and it's getting worse as rain run off has gouged deep channels in the surface and dislodged stones making it hard to walk on. We skip onto the adjacent road instead and soon we see a couple of orchids growing on the verge. A few yards further and there's a field with clumps of the deep purple gems.

Undeterred by a stone wall PC decides to get up close for a shot.

Her agility and athleticism have to be commended, and with the bionic hip giving no trouble at all she gracefully scales the wall and returns triumphant after achieving a memorable photo.

After that we're starting to show signs of bun-deprivation, so as soon as we find somewhere to sit off the road we detour and unpack the coffee and fresh cream scones. What we don't realise is that we're sat on the local anthill - something that soon becomes apparent - so our break is short lived, the scones eaten and coffee drunk with unseemly haste, and we're back on our feet again for the home run.

To our left is a short-cut path across the fields which takes out the steep, severe loop in the road. What we don't realise until we reach it is that the path is obviously little used because it is so steep. Sheep watch us smugly as we carefully make our way down the slippery grass. Maybe it would have been better to take the road after all.

It isn't far to Castleton now and after we've passed the first few houses we pause to admire (with PC coveting) some huge plant pots in a beautiful small cottage garden. Very colourful but very tasteful too.

We know we're back in the village now, the sun has brought out the crowds. Sometimes we forget that the Peak District is a popular holiday destination, and June is a holiday month. For us it's 'local' and we'll be out at any time of year, commitments permitting.

The car park, naturally, is full to bursting point but we, thankfully, are leaving the hoards behind. Just enough time to plan our next walk, in two weeks, then drive off into the sunny afternoon.

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.

BLUEBELLS ABOVE MONSAL DALE

Since the beginning of the school holidays we've been experiencing hot, sunny, dry weather so it was quite disappointing to wake up to grey skies for our first walk after the Easter break, but by the time we met up at Monsal Head it looked as though we might be lucky. So we packed the sun cream along with our waterproofs - just in case.

As always, we have to stop at Monsal Head to admire the view down the length of the valley before we walk down the sloping path to the viaduct. Once on the viaduct we have to stop again, this time to admire the view to Caer Paravel (PC having one of her artistic turns) although today the rocky crags she likens to the fictional castle do look very fortress-like.

Once across the viaduct we take the gate to the left then head uphill on the bridleway which, in turn, leads onto the old quarry road. Here we see our first wild bluebell, so PC duly captures the shot for posterity. Later on we see many more, but this little gem is special.



It's quite a steep track so we have a few pauses to study the sloping hillside at Upperdale across the valley. At this point we're discussing crystal therapy and by the time we reach the top of the slope our conversation has turned to aromatherapy.

We're soon through the gate across the track and we sneak over the broken-down drystone wall on our left to get a better view of Monsal Dale below us, where the river is surprisingly high given the lack of recent rain, and the iron age settlement of Fin Cop across. An archaeological dig has been taking place at Fin Cop which has lead to the discovery of bodies thrown into a ditch, an event reported in the national press and which may lead to a re-think about the use of these sites in ancient times.

Back to our peaceful walk where we can amble easily on the level hill-top track. Easy walking makes for easy talking but even we're amazed by how soon we reach the turn that takes us through the farmyard at Brushfield Hough.

There are cattle in a barn happily eating and mooing, and PC gets closer to take a photo. I, naturally, keep as far away as possible.

A sharp left turn between two buildings, through a gate and we leave the farm behind. The path follows the farm track for a short distance before heading over a stile in the wall. For a change I'm struggling (with sciatica) as PC bounds over the stile like a graceful gazelle. (Well, perhaps not quite like a gazelle, but you get the picture.)

We've made such good time that we hunt out a place to sit for coffee, and park ourselves on a grassy stretch of the shrubby slope overlooking the A60. Except that it doesn't actually overlook the road as there are too many trees in the way (thankfully) and we can hardly hear any traffic either. We're surrounded by birds, flowers, trees and industrious insects including some small black and white striped bees.

By now the sun has come out and as we sit with our coffee we fetch out the sunglasses too. It's too good a place to move from, so we natter (exams, education, dreams, Prof Brian Cox - not necessarily in that order and not, I hasten to add, related to each other in any way!) and soon we realise that it's actually time for lunch.

Out come the sandwiches and the buns. These are apple and cinnamon muffins from BBs - currently considered to be the best muffins ever, though we're open to suggestions and tastings for other contenders. With the last of the coffee finished we make ourselves comfortable, lay back and soak up the sun whilst allowing our conversation to ramble on, and on, and on.

It would be very easy to stay here and snooze in the afternoon calm, but eventually we manage to drag ourselves upwards and onwards - or downwards as it's all downhill from here.

We enter the woods and sweet perfume of bluebells rises up to greet us. We see great swathes of them beneath the trees and risk injury from low branches as we push through the undergrowth for a better view and some photos before getting back on track.

By this time we're talking books and literature - what an enlightening day we're having!

At the bottom of the hill we turn left to follow the river. There are often cattle grazing here but fortunately (for me) there are none today. We pause to look at the half buried remains of an old water wheel, but detour to avoid a fisherman who doesn't seem to be having much success. The river is clear and tranquil and PC spots a trout in the shallows - a long way from the angler.

We startle a moorhen in a tree - yes, honest - and pause to admire the shy peach-coloured geums growing prolifically in clumps and marsh marigolds in the middle of the river.

We cross over the river at the footbridge beneath the weir, but not before pausing to admire the spectacular water cascading over it. Then it's the start of the slow uphill climb towards Monsal Head. In the woods there are more bluebells, geums and sinister green arums.

By the time we reach the top there are plenty of people about. We don't stop though, we spent too long earlier and now we have to get going.

We don't walk in the White Peak as often as the Dark Peak, but maybe we're missing something. Today the flowers have been so special - and the cows have been behind fences!

PASSIONATE FROGS BUT NOT A HANDSOME PRINCE IN SIGHT

After last week's walk our expectations were high, so we weren't exactly prepared for today's grim start; drizzle, low cloud, wind. Not promising. But by the time we reached our usual parking space at the side of Ladybower Reservoir the rain had stopped and the wind had eased so after our preliminary greetings and sortings we decided to set off on our planned route.

This is another walk that we thoroughly enjoy, but we knew it would be a challenge for PC and her bionic hip. Still, she's no quitter and was adamant that she'd be up to it, so we set off down the road towards Fairholmes and their re-vamped loos - very nice - before heading towards the dam.

Here we met the first of many frogs. It seems they were intent on massing in great numbers to do - well, whatever it is that frogs do (although clearly many were still doing it!) There were dozens of them, and as many squashed ones as live ones, with quite a few having met their end whilst in the throes of a passionate embrace. Trying to avoid them I did a kind of hopping, skipping dance to PC's tuneful, "there's one there, oh and another one, and two more".

We avoid the path up to the dam and follow the road past Jubilee Cottages and Old House, both standing before the valley was flooded. The daffodils are out lining the roadside in cheerful, blazing yellow - unlike the sun which is staying hidden.

Soon we see the first of this year's new lambs, impossibly cute and posing oh-so-sweetly for the camera.

We continue along the road and just before reaching Wellhead we take the path to our left which climbs uphill. Even here there are frogs intent upon reproduction and not caring who can see them! A few steps along the path and there is an absolute orgy going on and it's impossible to count how many frogs are involved. Urgh!

The hill is steeper than we remember it, so it's a good job we have some Maltesers to prevent low blood sugars. We need to keep our energy levels up. Thank goodness the top rungs of the stiles are movable, a wonderful design element that should be incorporated into every newly built stile.

Of course, we have to pause regularly to admire the views, which means we have time to catch our breath and scoff a few more choccies. As we ascend we can see along Derwent Edge and down the length of Ladybower. Better still, possibly, the sun is trying to make an appearance, although the wind is building up too.

We pass the house on the hill (how do they get their motorhome up to it?) and are on the last pull. We stop to stare at, and photograph, a gnarled and twisted tree branch which is trying to disguise itself as a heron, or a turkey, or a dinosaur.Then we take the last couple of hundred yards at a run. (OK, we don't, but it sounds good.)

We decide to shelter against the wind behind a wall where we can enjoy the views, a coffee, a gingerbread man (yes, honest), and the sun which is really beginning to make an effort. We can hear grouse grumbling in the distance, and curlews with their eerie call. It's wonderfully peaceful though with not another soul in sight.

It might be sunny but it isn't warm so we set off again knowing that the climbing is done - all bar a slight incline near Pike Low. The track is firm underfoot and follows a long but much eroded and tumbled drystone wall. It's level walking and we can admire the views rather than watch where we're putting our feet and we can see as far as Lost Lad and Back Tor.

When we move away from the level path we're back onto peaty moorland which is often boggy, although just now it isn't too bad although some of the deep ruts have been filled with rubble, no doubt to make it easier for the 4x4s up here for the shooting rather than to help walkers.

We crest the final slope and pause to admire the views behind us as we can see as far as Crook Hill and the Great Ridge, although the quality of the light doesn't quite make it a good photograph. A shame, but at least we can appreciate it.

It's all downhill now, quite gently at this point, and soon we're at the cross-paths - left to the reservoirs, right towards Derwent Edge - but we continue straight ahead. We angle down a little to reach the derelict Bamford House where we find a seat (a fallen gatepost) and some shelter (a tumbled-down wall) in the sunshine where we can enjoy lunch.

Out comes a small bottle of pink fizzy wine - a prezzie from PC for my %* th birthday. Drinking lovely wine as we sit and enjoy the views makes a great day brilliant. Our sandwiches are eating with resignation but the lemon muffin cheesecakes - always a winner - are devoured with unseemly relish. However, we can't fit in the coffee yet, we're too full, so we sit and natter instead, enjoying the peace, the sun, the view, the company.

What a pity we can't sit here forever, but eventually we drag ourselves to our feet and rejoin the path which takes us down to Abbey Bank. Yet again we have more magnificent views, this time of the Howden Dam overflowing into the reservoir with it's usual thunderous, echoing roll.

This is a steep downhill stretch, and we pass the only other walkers we've seen on this outing. A couple and their dog toiling uphill. Rather them than me.

At the bottom we step through the gate into a thick carpet of crisp leaves that have somehow resisted being turned into mulch over the winter, and we walk through the trees and daffodils to join the wide path at the side of the reservoir.

We're on the home straight now, but we stop at a bench to finish off the coffee and enjoy the afternoon sun. It's turned pleasantly warm and that has fetched people out. Coffee done we meander back, but it isn't until we've passed the Derwent Dam that we look at the time, and realise that we're seriously late. So instead of a gently saunter back to the cars we have to step up the pace.

We make it back in record time, but there's no time to linger as duty calls. We won't be walking for three or four weeks now, though, as school holidays clash but at least we know that we're back to walking our usual distance. And getting a sun-tan into the bargain!