LEJOG day 29: Priestcliffe to Edale

May 25, 2017

I know that traditionally, British people in general and I in particular like to complain, and this can mean some complaints get taken lightly. However, I really must make it clear that: firstly, hiking over really quite noticeable hills during one of the weather's attempts at Summer is not much fun; and secondly, it is the height of rudeness to occupy the shared bathroom before someone who has just done that has had a chance to scour the film of grime and sweat off themselves.

First: I had a day off! Priestcliffe, I neglected to mention, is a cluster of about five or six houses and farms at a point where three roads come together, and my hosts were quite keen that I should not spend my entire rest day there, I think out of concern for my potential extreme boredom should I do so. Instead, I was driven into Buxton, a few miles away and Britain's highest market town (when you start celebrating things like that, everywhere is unique), and told where to get the once-an-hour bus back from. Buxton is rather lovely, assisted in becoming such by various of the mind-bogglingly wealthy Dukes of Devonshire (particularly the 5th and 6th, I think; the 5th being the guy whose response discovering his wife had run up gambling debts in excess of £3 million in today's money was "is that all?"). It has a spring of naturally warm water, like Bath, except about 10 degrees cooler and more extensively ignored until one or other of the Dukes decided Buxton ought to be a spa town. As a result, Buxton has a pump room, crescent and so on like a littler version of Bath. Because I was in the area, naturally all of these were involved in a multi-million pound refurbishment and swathed in scaffolding, and the town's Museum is closed until June to boot. I ate a lot to hide my pain.

Today's walk! How lovely the Peak District is! Quite up-and-down-y, though, it has to be said. It took me over 5 hours to walk under 13 miles, and that's not all down to the heat. I had a gorgeous route through various dales, many of them nature reserves, and over the least moor-like moor I've had the pleasure of encountering before walking down a path that alarmingly closely resembled a stream past the foot of the remains of Peveril Castle.

I really considered looking around it, honest- built by Henry II, looms over a cliff edge, sounds good- but then thought about climbing an extra hill to pay over £5 to English Heritage to look around something that lacks a roof again, and decided not to. Instead I set my sights on the ridge running up to Mam Tor on the horizon, and suspiciously thought "I bet I have to climb that" before tramping out of Castleton in a hot, sweaty funk.

I was right, I did have to climb it- not Mam Tor, but the ridge- and the views were stunning and I took exactly not one photo. I'm now (finally) showered and I can hear cows munching right outside my window, and beyond them rises the Pennine Way, which I have been almost arbitrarily dreading for months, having decided it was The Worst Bit based on my dislike of anything called "moor" or "bog"- but that's tomorrow's problem. Tonight, I just have to decide which of the four immediately appealing things on the pub menu I'm going to eat.

Distance walked: 12.9 miles

Time taken: 5h04

Percentage completed: 40.2%

Miles per £1 of boot: 3.95

Lunch: hoi sin duck wrap from M&S in Buxton- because I wasn't sure when that opportunity next arise- plus some salami and the rest of the cheese

Last night's B&B: Highfield, Priestcliffe: lovely again- made me welcome and comfortable and shared their dinner with me. If you had a car I think this would be a lovely place for a weekend away.