A few years ago I got back from the Pyrenees, tired and exhausted with the effort. A week or two passed when I did nothing, because of the weather, then I walked at Edale. It was a delight. An easy stroll in shorts, sandals and tee shirt with no heavy rucksack. It was so pleasant I wondered if I preferred it there to the Pyrenees. The comparison is absurd but I reflected, nonetheless, because of how I was feeling.

In the last two years I’ve also enjoyed camping. In a large comfortable tent, coffee for breakfast, decent food, a thick sleeping pad I prefer to my bed – that too is very pleasant. I’ve not wild camped in Britain for some considerable time. There’s a lessening thrill to these things replaced with more gentle pleasures.

Edale is soothing and gentle, a pretty village tucked away in a scooped out valley which always makes me feel – this could be the Lake District, it feels similar, and yet it’s only one hour from the city.

 

Peak District Photography at Edale

Saturday April 2, 2016