Here are some shamelessly stirring words on the Chatsworth Estate:

The Chatsworth Estate, crumbling, scaffolded,
Children and animals wander.
Dodging cars on narrow roads,
No local transport here.
Bread and eggs is twice the price,
Tea and pies in the ‘caff’.
Processions of mobility aid,
All the gardens are brown.

Beautiful, evocative prose I'm sure you'll agree; autumnal and overcast, you can picture it right? That’s right, Chatsworth House and its 1000 acres of surrounding parkland. Home to the 12th Duke of Devonshire, Chatsworth in Derbyshire is nudging 750,000 visitors a year and rising. A mid-week late October break in the Peak-District had us planning to head up Kinder Scout but a combination of ‘him-fluenza’ and lady sniffles would make for a more sedate stately-home themed day.

The flighty-half has a connection with Chatsworth; she's mad on the Mitfords. You know, the Mitford sisters; between the wars society somebodies. Nancy (books), Pamela (normal), Diana (fascist), Unity (ditto), Jessica (communist) and Deborah (posh) made for an interesting bunch. "Love in a Cold Climate", Hitler and The Spanish Civil War all crop up in association but "Debo" did good by marrying the 11th Duke and shacking up at Chatsworth.

Not normally my idea of a good day out and at just shy of a gift-aided £20 a pop, it's not a cheap day out but throw a stone at a crow! Marbled staircases and Michaelangelo-ey ceilings, oak panels and plenty of portraits were way beyond my admittedly casual expectations. There's a handsome Hockney hanging in a more modern display that even warranted a chat with an attendant. The £17m restoration underway during our visit accounted for the aforementioned scaffolding but I exited a convert. I went from "Storm the Bastille" to "I'd quite like to volunteer here" in less than two hours and there's a huge, brilliant garden with a maze to explore.

We actually walked past the current lodger, the 12th Duke; "Don't say anything" I was instructed. Grinning like a ninny he was, making his way over the rise to the village of Edensor. This is the home of his Mother Debo(rah); she had rejected the offer of a Granny-Flat in the country pile for something more practical nearby. I wanted to say something like "You sir are a privileged pillock; you won the lottery by birthright. Having seen your operation back there however and the fact that my lot can now get lucky every Wednesday\Saturday, best of luck with the decorating". I liked him because he was probably nipping over to see his Mum for lunch. On a Wednesday.

Chatsworth sits towards the bottom right of the Peak District; England's oldest and most popular National Park. A moderate, circular 6-miler from nearby Ashford in the Water promised half of those miles alongside the river Wye. With your Ordnance Survey Explorer OL24, we'll be heading north-west to Monsal Head then anti-clockwising it back to Ashford. Lem-Sip™(ped) up from the day before, there are watery opportunities ahead.