Route: Bakewell to Eyam
Miles: 11.8
Weather: Chilly first thing, but lovely once the sun came out. Still no rain! 🙌
The one with… the unusual kissing gates, broken nose, and the grand finale.
Summary
Our final day on the Peak Pilgrimage had everything: ancient railway trails, woodland climbs, deer sprinting across country roads, strange gates, riverside walking, blue-painted villages and one absolutely savage final hill into Eyam.
There was laughter, heavy breathing, aching legs and a real sense that we were part of something much bigger than just a walk. Pilgrimages have a way of slowing you down and making you notice things properly — the landscape, the conversations, the churches, the history and yourself.
By the time we reached Eyam and collected that final stamp, there was a genuine feeling of pride buzzing through the whole group.
The Long-Winded Version
9.20am – Today we have two extra people joining us: Paul and Soup. They have walked the Peak Pilgrimage with me before but, due to illness, couldn’t complete the final day last time. So today feels important. They are back to finish what they started in 2021 and get this trail officially ticked off the list.
PacMan Taxis arrive to take us to our final starting point, the lovely town of Bakewell.
Bakewell is one of the most famous towns in the Peak District, sitting beautifully on the banks of the River Wye with its old stone buildings, little courtyards and traditional shops. Most people know it because of the famous Bakewell Pudding — which, for the record, is not the same as a Bakewell Tart.
The pudding was apparently invented by accident in the 1800s when a cook got a recipe wrong. Proof that mistakes can sometimes turn out brilliantly.
First stamp of the day collected. ✔️
Mandatory gravestone coffin photo taken. ✔️
9.50am – We stop for 15 minutes in Bakewell so people can buy proper Bakewell Puddings. Priorities.
Meanwhile, I desperately need gloves because my hands are absolutely frozen. Once everyone has regrouped and sugar levels are suitably boosted, we set off again.
As we leave Bakewell we stop briefly at the old railway station before joining the Monsal Trail.
The Monsal Trail follows part of the old Midland Railway line which once connected London to Manchester. The railway closed in the 1960s during the Beeching cuts and the route was eventually transformed into one of the most popular walking and cycling trails in the country.
The old tunnels, bridges and limestone scenery make it feel incredibly atmospheric — especially when the mist hangs in the valleys.
Then comes the first big climb of the day.
Walking poles are deployed.
Thigh muscles activated.
Conversations reduced to survival breathing.
Up we go.
We cross the golf course, naturally ringing the bell because apparently we are all children. Steve is now fully committed to his fungus spotting mission and keeps disappearing into the undergrowth pointing excitedly at mushrooms.
The woods are absolutely beautiful. Bluebells everywhere. Moss-covered rocks. Shafts of sunlight through the trees. One of those moments where you stop and think, this is exactly why people walk.
There’s another family group climbing nearby. The man at the front is marching ahead like he’s training for SAS: Who Dares Wins. Suddenly I hear a loud crashing noise behind me. I spin around and one of the women has completely face-planted onto the rocks.
My instinct instantly kicks in and I hold back in case help is needed, while my group carries on ahead slowly.
The poor woman is clearly in pain and I can tell almost immediately she’s broken her nose. What struck me straight away though was her footwear — completely flat beach-style sandals on wet rocky woodland paths. No grip whatsoever.
Thankfully her family were brilliant and carefully helped her back down the hill. She was incredibly stoic considering how painful it must have been.
As we emerge from the woods, the views across the Chatsworth Estate are absolutely breathtaking.
Then… deer.
A whole herd of young fallow deer with little white bellies bouncing across the landscape. We all stop completely still just watching them. In the distance Chatsworth House dominates the horizon, with the huge Emperor Fountain shooting dramatically into the sky.
Honestly… wow.
12.15pm – We descend into Edensor, which is probably my favourite village on the entire trail.
Everything here looks impossibly neat and picture-perfect. One of the most unusual things about Edensor is the blue paintwork on many of the cottages — doors, windows and railings. The colour is known locally as “Chatsworth Blue” and is linked to the Chatsworth Estate, which owns much of the village.
The church here dominates the tiny village and the group head in for another stamp before we stop at the tearooms for lunch.
Some people go full proper meal mode with fish and chips while others stick with homemade sandwiches and coffee. I have my very first Twix Tiffin, which is approximately 97% sugar and could probably power a small village.
Meanwhile… Julia’s Foot Surgery opens for business. Blisters are inspected. Feet are patched up. Sympathy levels remain medium. 😆
1.05pm – Back on the trail.
We pass through a strange circular kissing gate and suddenly everyone freezes as another huge herd of deer comes charging down the hillside, across the road and over little fences. Cars stop dead while the deer leap effortlessly past them.
It’s mesmerising. We feel incredibly lucky to witness so much wildlife today.
1.42pm – We continue meandering through the Chatsworth Estate, admiring the immaculate grounds, before arriving at what can only be described as the most entertaining gate of the entire trip — a revolving cage kissing gate.
Soup absolutely loves it and spins round squealing with delight like she’s on a playground ride. 😂
Behind us a group of cyclists arrive and we all wonder how on earth they’re going to negotiate this contraption. But clearly they’ve done this before because each bike is expertly lifted, twisted and manoeuvred through with military precision. Very impressive.
1.56pm – We reach the lovely village of Baslow for another stamp before heading down towards the river.
2.50pm – Next stop: Calver Church and another stamp collected.
Opposite the church is a pub proudly advertising “Fresh Fish from Cornwall”. Paul looks at me completely seriously and says:
“It can’t be very fresh if it’s travelled all the way from Cornwall.”
Fair point, Paul. Fair point. 😂
This next section of the walk is absolutely gorgeous. We follow the river through huge drifts of wild garlic, pass more blue-painted cottages, little weirs, herons and approximately seventeen million ducks.
The sun is shining. Everyone is chatting. There’s that lovely tired-but-happy atmosphere that only seems to happen on walking holidays.
4.00pm – Then comes the final challenge.
We climb steeply before descending into Stoney Middleton, home to our penultimate church. This church is wonderfully unusual because of its octagonal shape — very different from the traditional long church layout most of us are used to seeing.
Final church stamp collected.
Poles deployed.
Rucksacks tightened.
And then… the final climb into Eyam.
I get “the look” from Lisa, who is not the biggest fan of hills.
After three full days of walking, this hill feels absolutely brutal. Legs are screaming. Breathing becomes dramatic. But everyone digs deep and keeps going.
On the way we stop at the Lovers’ Leap stone, linked to a local legend about two young lovers from Eyam during the plague years. The story says they would meet at a distance here when the village was quarantined, unable to properly be together because of the risk of infection.
Like so many stories in Eyam, it’s a reminder of love, loss and human resilience during incredibly difficult times.
4.40pm – Final stamp!
We made it.
And there’s something very special about finishing a pilgrimage.
It’s more than just completing miles. Over three days we crossed valleys, rivers, villages, old railway lines, churches, woods and estates. We laughed a lot, ate too much cake, patched up feet, encouraged each other uphill and shared stories along the way.
Pilgrimages slow life down. They make you notice things — tiny flowers, church bells, deer in a field, conversations you’d never normally have. They create space in your head that modern life rarely allows.
By the time we reached Eyam there was a genuine sense of achievement in the group. Not loud or dramatic… just quiet pride.
Tired legs. Full hearts.
And another beautiful adventure completed together. 💚
As always, thanks for following along.
