A short day today, so we left late, and had a leisurely stroll through Bakewell. We found a Cotswold shop, and had a browse. David bought some wax to rejuvenate his boots, and I bought some more Kendal Mint Cake.

We had a very steep climb out of Bakewell, through woodland and into pasture. The path gradually descended to the Chatsworth Estate, where we then followed the river Derwent for most of the way to the pub we were staying at for the night, The Chequers in Froggatt. We had hoped to stop in Baslow for lunch, but once again the pub was closed, so we settled with seats outside a small village shop!

A Backward Glance

On leaving our digs today we bumped straight into our favourite sock shop, ‘Cotswolds’. Unfortunately the ones I’m wearing on our walk are only about ten years old, so have at least another fifteen years of service left in them, meaning it’s unlikely I’ll live long enough to feel the pure joy of pulling on a new pair again. Socks are my favourite item of clothing, and I know a good pair when I see them in a shop, but like so many other of life’s pleasures, now am too old to enjoy them. Our walk today was a ‘walk in the park’, mostly. After a steep climb up through woods just outside of Bakewell and then across some open fields, all the time in the company of other strollers, we were descending into the ‘Chatsworth Estate’. Blimey, what a big pad and all for Mr and Mrs Cavendish. There are over 300 rooms, over 450 big windows and over 2000 light bulbs. The Cavendish’s manage to restrict their occupancy to a cosy 100 of the rooms and 25 of the remainder are open to lesser mortals who can view what was once theirs for a mere £32 a peep. It was like passing Smaug’s cave in the lonely mountain who’s only purpose was to guard and roll around in the treasure he’d stolen from the dwarves. When it comes to people, worth and wealth are so often confused these days, Chatsworth House, to me is an example of this. Human worth is not at all pecuniary. Chatsworth House is opulence in spades, perhaps we could be forgiven for feeling a little ashamed of what it represents. Our walk continued alongside a river, pavements through a pretty village where we went down and up and down again the same hill in pursuit of one bottle of Fanta and two packets of crisps. Retracing our steps is a common event, but retracing our retraced steps is a new phenomenon, probably age related.