I’ll never forget the drive up to Chatsworth Superior Pet Friendly in the Peak District – a proper British road trip with our daft spaniel, Monty, sticking his nose out the window like he owned the A6. We’d set off from Buxton early, hearts full of that giddy holiday buzz, only for me to take a wrong turn somewhere near the old spa town’s edges. Nothing major, just a daft five-minute detour down a narrow lane that spat us out at a forgotten quarry viewpoint, all rugged limestone cliffs and heather in full purple bloom. Laughing at my rubbish map-reading skills, we pulled over for a brew from the thermos, and there it was – our first hidden gem, stumbled upon by sheer idiocy. Monty chased phantom rabbits while we soaked in the vastness of the High Peak, miles from the tourist coaches.

By midday, we finally rolled up to the cottage, tucked away in a quiet corner of Buxton that feels worlds away from the high street bustle. Chatsworth Superior Pet Friendly is the sort of place that whispers “welcome home” the moment you step through the gate – stone-built charm with a cosy porch perfect for muddy paws, and a garden that rolls gently into the fells. No grand entrance, just that satisfying crunch of gravel under the tyres and the key turning smoothly in the lock. First impressions? Spot on. The living room’s got this massive inglenook fireplace begging for a log fire (we resisted, it being July), and the kitchen’s kitted out like a telly chef’s dream – Aga humming warmly, fresh herbs on the windowsill overlooking sheep-dotted fields. Monty made a beeline for his pet bed by the radiator, tail thumping approval, while we dumped the bags and cracked open a bottle of local Peak Ales to celebrate.

But honestly, the real magic kicked in when we decided to “get lost” on purpose that first afternoon – no Ordnance Survey maps, just boots on and Monty leading the way. From the cottage, it’s a hop to the Monsal Trail path, but we veered off the beaten track straightaway, following a faint sheep trod that snaked up through birch woods. Ten minutes in, and we’d found our second accidental treasure: a tucked-away limestone dell, carpeted in wild sorrel and clover, with a babbling gill perfect for paddling. No signs, no crowds – just us, the sun dappling through the leaves, and Monty splashing about like a furry torpedo. We picnicked there on cheese ploughman’s from Buxton’s market (grabbed en route), giggling as crumbs attracted a cheeky robin brigade. It felt like we’d gatecrashed a secret garden, the sort of spot you only find when you stop trying.

That evening, wandering back as the light turned golden, we stumbled on another off-the-beaten-path delight – a wee Victorian lime kiln ruin, half-swallowed by ferns, right by a drystone wall that framed the view of Grin Low woods. I perched on the mossy stones, Monty at my feet, and had one of those gentle moments of reflection. Here I was, city-stressed me, faffing about with deadlines just days ago, now utterly content in this unscripted bliss. Getting lost isn’t a mishap; it’s the point, isn’t it? The cottage amplified it all – pet-friendly to its core, with gated runs for Monty and those big sash windows framing every serendipitous vista.

Day one wrapped with us sprawled on the plush sofas, toasting to serendipity over homemade shepherd’s pie. Chatsworth Superior isn’t just a stay; it’s a launchpad for Peak District’s quiet wonders, the ones you unearth when you embrace the wander. If you’re after that proper escape, dog in tow, this is your spot – mishaps and all. Can’t wait to get lost there again.