A peregrine falcon is flying high over the gothic tower of the cathedral while elegant grey wagtails hop across the curving weir among flocks of gulls and geese. Is this really the worst city in the UK? Derby recently came bottom in a Which? poll of big UK cities for a short break. I’m only passing through on my way to the Peak District, but I plan to stop over on my way back. It’s certainly a useful hub for reaching the Peaks by bus or train.
Derbyshire has good public transport, a new unlimited bus ticket (£33 a week), and a growing number of local visitor attractions with incentives for car-free visitors. I’m hoping to put all these to the test during a week’s exploring.
Derby bus station is a 20-minute riverside stroll from the railway station under shady lime trees. I catch the Transpeak bus through Matlock and Bakewell to Ashford in the Water. On the 90-minute journey we pass yellow fields of buttercups, grazing sheep and steep green dales, all stitched together by miles of dry-stone wall. I’m travelling by bus as much for the top-deck views as the destinations themselves.
Approaching Ashford, we roll past the medieval Sheepwash Bridge, with the sunlit River Wye rippling through three low stone arches. When I return to the bridge on foot that evening, I see tufted ducks diving, and stippled brown trout swimming through the shadows. Nearby, villagers are taking down the decorative petals, seeds and leaves from this year’s well dressings.
I’m staying in the revamped Ashford Arms, which reopened a few months ago after a four-year closure and £1.6m refurbishment. It has a big beer garden and striking new decor: dark beams, ochre walls, watercolour landscapes and, in my room, a claw-footed freestanding bathtub (doubles from £90, B&B). Best of all, it’s opposite the bus stop, where services include one of the Peak District’s open-air sightseeing buses (day tickets £9.50/£5.50 concessions).
Trailing honeysuckle, wet elderflowers, mock orange blossom, fresh-cut hay: the passing countryside is full of summer smells next morning – one of many great things about open-topped buses. Swallows slice delicately through the air nearby. At Chatsworth, where I’m heading, car-free visitors get a free guidebook to the painted hall and richly panelled oak room, the gilded great stairs…
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