Hills and mountains were the backdrop to many of my childhood holidays.
Summer half-terms were regularly spent in the Peak District: we climbed Kinder Scout and Mam Tor; trekked through Dovedale and Monsal Dale; and ate Kendal Mint Cake like real adventurers. The cottages we rented for those weeks would smell of Nikwax and be littered with maps and walking socks.
In the early years there was as much playing as hiking. Me and my brother Nathaniel, two years my junior, would spend hours hiding and seeking amidst the rocks and bracken at Robin Hood’s Stride; or panning for precious minerals in the streams that trickled through the woods. My best friend Ed came with us sometimes. The three of us would build hideouts and plot attacks on imaginary enemies.
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