Until Lucas, Matt and I took a drive through the countryside around Nottingham I thought that a ‘Bakewell tart’ was made by a company called ‘Bakewell’ because really, that would be an appropriate name for a company that makes pastries. Turns out it’s a place from which the eponymous delicacy originates. Lucas and I had one each and weren’t enormously impressed, but I’d certainly recommend the village as somewhere to visit if you want to see one of those perfectly picturesque English villages.

‘Lashings’ of cream were promised but not delivered. A veritable teaspoon, I say!

Having a Bakewell tart in Bakewell was something of a consolation after driving an hour through the rain to the enormous Chatsworth House in the hope of seeing something interesting that was out of the miserable weather and then finding it was nearly 20 pounds to get in. It was a real shame as there was a sculpture exhibition on in the gardens that would’ve been great to see if the weather has been better or we’d had golf umbrellas and gumboots. Still, the drive through the Derbyshire countryside was pretty (when the driving rain subsided) with the trees starting to show their Autumn colours.

I found a craft shop in Bakewell and bought some wool and needles to knit myself a Winter hat and successfully resisted buying a cross stitch kit or some beads (it was a mighty effort –  I’m addicted to craft supplies) then returned to Matt’s place where he cooked us a delicious roast dinner. The boys went to the pub and I stayed home and watched stuff on youtube and knitted for several hours. It was so nice to be by myself for the first time in a long time. Solitude is such a luxury!

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