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A Trip To The Peak District (Northern England, UK)
Mid October, longer nights and shorter days. The moon is three quarters full, illuminating country paths and stiles and the rugged outline of crags and vales.
We reach the village after dark, finding the solitary cottage by a lane tucked in between a farm and a field, a grit stone cottage that backs straight onto the lane.
The air around us is rich with the smell of the night and the damp and the scent of mud and trodden upon grass.
Grabbing a torch from the boot of the car, I sprint across the field to the farm to collect the keys as arranged, and return to the cottage with a platter of sandwiches and a bottle of wine provided by the couple on the farm.
'This is great,' I say in the cottage, flopping onto a sofa and shutting my eyes for a few seconds. Low beamed ceilings, huge hearths and pokers with the remains of ash, brass ornaments, copper plates on the walls, feathered pillows and quilts.
We reach the village after dark, finding the solitary cottage by a lane tucked in between a farm and a field, a grit stone cottage that backs straight onto the lane.
The air around us is rich with the smell of the night and the damp and the scent of mud and trodden upon grass.
Grabbing a torch from the boot of the car, I sprint across the field to the farm to collect the keys as arranged, and return to the cottage with a platter of sandwiches and a bottle of wine provided by the couple on the farm.
'This is great,' I say in the cottage, flopping onto a sofa and shutting my eyes for a few seconds. Low beamed ceilings, huge hearths and pokers with the remains of ash, brass ornaments, copper plates on the walls, feathered pillows and quilts.
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