Clint was fuming. We were stuck in a long traffic jam outside the High Peak town of Buxton. Vehicles were moving forward slowly and haltingly as we edged towards roadworks where as per usual nobody appeared to be working. We were in that jam for a full hour, doubling my anticipated journey time. I resisted Clint's urgings to "go for it" like a police driver. He promised to yell "Waah! Waah! Waah!" as we overtook the crawling line of vehicles. Finally, finally I reached the parking spot I had identified via Google Streetview - two miles north of Buxton on the Whaley Bridge road. With brand new walking boots on, I set off on what was a chilly but bright blue sky afternoon. It was just after midday. And what a delightful walk it was too - in an amphitheatre of north Derbyshire countryside, more or less surrounded by Combs Edge. The tops were dusted with April snow but the valley was green and fresh with new spring lambs resting or frolicking in the old sheep ...
