We left our accommodation following the Limestone Way, initially over farmland. The fences and hedges of Staffordshire are replaced by the drystone walls of Derbyshire, and stiles are largely replaced by V-shaped gaps in the walls – not easy to get over if you are short and carrying a large rucksack!

Soon we reached the River Dove, following it into Dovedale, a particularly beautiful stretch of river. However, on a Bank Holiday weekend, the world and his wife had chosen this as their picnic destination! It was the first time we had become ‘tourists’ and although it was lovely to see so many families enjoying the sunshine and scenery, we were pleased to find that when we took a steep uphill path out of the valley, we were once more on our own!

We continued on the Limestone Way for a while, then joined the Tissington Trail, a National cycle route – enjoyed by a great number of cyclists today. We followed this trail for four miles before crossing fields to our accommodation for the night.

A Backward Glance

For a bleary eyed old man trying to make out which way he’s meant to be going each morning, the most terrifying sight is ‘hills’ – and there they were. I felt my knees quake, but quickly forced them to keep me up with Carol, who was disappearing into a hedgerow off the main road into Swinscoe, now behind us. We were going downhill: not a good sign with precipitous climbs in front of us. But hallelujah, our path took a valley route right into Dovedale Car Park and around the eye watering heights. There’s a tide of noisy interest that rises at the car park and continues right up to the famous ‘stepping stones’, about half a mile stretch of path, where stillness is banished and driven to higher more airy elevations. Kingfishers, herons and dippers leave mallard’s to ‘moon’ the unwelcome invading hordes as an expression of their annoyance. It doesn’t work though and we even saw young children being encouraged to watch the display of wet bums and wriggling red legs as if it was something to take delight in. It’s no wonder youth today have lost their moral compass if parents tolerate this kind of interest in the rude behaviour of ducks, especially at such a young and impressionable age. After the ‘Stepping Stones’ the path rose gently to start and then steeply up through woods, where we disturbed a Partridge and her numerous acrobatic little fluff on legs chicks. Fewer Sunday walkers now, but still more than usual, until we hit a major cycle path, where again plenty of adults and children were enjoying speed on wheels with minimal effort down the gradual four mile long gradient. A lovely walk surrounded by people of all ages enjoying being outdoors with us on a sunny bank holiday weekend. Outdoor life is good.