It was time to head to Bakewell!

 Along the way we stopped to visit Kiley, a close friend of Gracie’s and  her former  college roommate.  We visited her in Congleton, halfway to Bakewell where she and husband had just purchased a new home.  The house looked exactly like those dreamy English Country homes people buy on “Househunter International.” It was a grand old house that had been creatively divided into two homes with an extensive  garden that backed to  a canal with an inviting path. Kiley and her husband were slowly restoring the interior with careful attention to historical details – I even left with a link to a website that specializes in the paint palette of old English country houses.

From there, we wound through the countryside on narrower and steeper roads towards our next stop: Bakewell. We were officially in the Peak District. We were in James Harriet country. And nothing felt more like that than having to wait in the road for a traffic jam made by a herd of cows.

If  Kent had felt lush and green, all gardens and rolling hills, and the Cotswolds and Bath glowed honey-golden with limestone and fields dotted with sheep, then Bakewell and the Peak District  are stone and rivers with steep roads and cattle. I did not expect Bakewell to be such a little, gray, stone village. 

 Little, yes, but hugely cute!  The river runs through it crossed by stone bridges an lined with a path.  The village is compact with a beautiful garden in the center,  AND it was home to The Bakewell Tart, which we knew about from The Great British Baking Show.  Tarts aside, it was clear that  people are here for outdoor activities. Hiking, biking and trekking into the mountains. (And when I say mountains, I’m being generous.) And they are also here for Chatsworth, at least we were.

The 2005 Pride & Prejudice practically played on repeat in our house when the girls were in high school.  We could quote it verbatim.  So. Because significant scenes were filmed at Chatsworth. Because I was ready to move away from the Tudor era. Because Tripadvisor said Chatsworth House would take five hours to tour (300 rooms, one hundred and eighty acre park and garden) and because the nearest town was Bakewell, we booked a room in the Rutland Arms in the tiny tourist town of Bakewell.

On our way to Chatsworth, the sound of gunfire echoed through the hills from a nearby shooting range, and when we pulled into the parking lot at the house, there was yet another clay pigeon event under way.  

What can I say about Chatsworth: : Painted ceilings.  Greek statuary.  Medieval books. A Scrap of writing from the Canterbury tales.  Beautiful rooms elegantly decorated in the event that some king or queen might visit. (They never did).  Gargantuan art, filling every spare bit of wall.  Famous painted scenes of 1500’s  Venice where the artist painted himself peeing on a wall. The coronation chairs of King George III and Charlotte.  Owned by the same family for 400 years.  They still own it!

And the Pride and Prejudice filming connection!  Those stairs that Lizzie flees down when she learns Mr. Darcy is “in the house.”  The art gallery where she contemplates the Greek Statue, “The Veiled Vestral.”  The statue of “Mr. Darcy,” left over from the filming, displayed with a sign that says… “Please do not kiss.”  I mean… It was tempting. 

The gardens were more of a walk through rocky hillsides with pockets of colorful gardens. There was a maze!  Scott was thrilled. Me?  I have shared my thoughts regarding mazes previously.  I admired the gardens surrounding the maze while Scott joyfully completed it.    We completely lapped the garden and gravity fed fountain, feeling the spray mist our faces and, exhausted, we headed back to Bakewell.

Back in our hotel we grabbed our books and headed to the lobby.  This was a plush, deep couches and chairs, fireplace, hunting lodge, cuppa tea or a pint kind of lobby.  We are learning to embrace the lobby of our hotels (Premier Inn’s aside) these country hotels all have great lobbies.

Inspired by the outdoor adventures available here, we rented electric assist bikes the next morning and rode along the Monsal Trail.  A wide, popular trail that followed an old railroad track.  It took me a good half mile before I could ride in a straight line, but the entire ride I panicked when I had to: Stop. Start.  Pass a walker. Avoid children. Avoid dogs off leash.  It was great fun though, we went 14 miles.  It rained on us twice and my booty got so sore!  And my hands from gripping the brake.

We had a lovely two days wandering well in the Peak District!  This is our last hurrah in England.  Tomorrow?  Scotland!