I’ll never forget the drive up to Amour Lodge in Glossop – a proper Peak District jaunt that started with me taking a wrong turn just outside Chapel-en-le-Frith, thanks to my rubbish sense of direction and a sat-nav that decided to have a mid-journey sulk. We ended up looping through some narrow lanes with sheep giving us the side-eye, but honestly, it was the perfect teaser for Derbyshire’s cheeky charm. By the time we pulled into the drive of this cosy little lodge, the kids were chanting “Are we there yet?” for the umpteenth time, and I was knackered but buzzing.

Stepping out into that crisp Peak District air was like a reset button. Amour Lodge sits tucked away in a quiet spot near Glossop, surrounded by those rolling hills that make you feel properly small in the best way. It’s one of those dog-friendly hideaways – ours, a mad Labrador called Monty, was straight in, tail wagging like a windscreen wiper on full pelt. The place is compact but spot-on for a family like ours: a snug living area with a wood-burning stove begging to be lit, a kitchen kitted out for lazy fry-ups, and bedrooms that scream “crash here and don’t worry about ironing the duvet.” First impressions? It’s got that lived-in lodge vibe without tipping into tatty – think plush sofas, a telly for rainy days (of which Derbyshire has plenty), and French doors opening onto a private hot tub that had us all grinning like idiots.

We’d barely dropped the bags before chaos erupted in the best possible way. The youngest, little Evie, age five, declared war on unpacking by tipping an entire bag of crisps across the floor. Monty, ever the opportunist, hoovered them up faster than a Dyson, leaving us in hysterics as I chased him round the coffee table with a dustpan. “Welcome to lodge life,” I laughed, while my other half, Sarah, cracked open a bottle of local Derbyshire ale from the fridge. That first hour was pure simple pleasure: brewing tea in mismatched mugs, firing up the stove with logs from the porch stash, and just soaking in the view of the hills through the windows. No grand plans, no schedules – just us, settling into this bubble away from the daily grind.

As the sun dipped low – Derbyshire does golden hours like no one’s business – we ventured out for a gentle wander. It’s only a short stroll to some nearby paths winding up towards the moors, nothing too strenuous for flip-flop-wearing amateurs like me. The air smelled of heather and damp earth, and we spotted a few walkers with proper boots and Ordnance Survey maps, making our trainers look decidedly amateur. Back at the lodge, first impressions hit harder: that hot tub was calling. We piled in, steam rising, kids splashing like it was their personal jacuzzi Olympics, while Sarah and I clinked glasses and watched the stars pop out over the Dark Peak. Monty lounged on the deck, pretending he wasn’t eyeing the biscuits.

It got me reflecting, sat there with bubbles up to my chin, on how these little escapes remind you what matters. Life back home’s all rush and screens, but here at Amour Lodge, the first evening wrapped us in this unhurried glow – a bit of family mayhem, a lot of laughter, and the quiet joy of nowhere else to be. If you’re after a relaxed Derbyshire bolt-hole for simple pleasures and lodge-life larks, this is your spot. We were hooked from minute one, and that was just arrival day. Can’t wait to go back.