I’ll never forget the drive up to our holiday spot in Derbyshire – sat nav leading us through those twisty Peak District lanes, rain lashing the windscreen like it was auditioning for a moody film. We’d just passed Buxton when I took a wrong turn at a roundabout, convinced I knew better than the phone’s robotic voice. Cue 20 minutes of looping back via a muddy farm track, the kids in the back chanting “Are we there yet?” while I pretended it was all part of the adventure. Classic me, turning a 30-minute journey into an unintended rally stage.

Pulling up at last, though, my heart did a little flip of excitement – this place looked spot on for us lot. It’s one of those welcoming townhouses perfect for families or mates, with a big kitchen-diner that screamed “cook up a storm and chat into the night”. We dumped the bags and immediately cracked open a bottle of fizz at the table, toasting to ditching the daily grind. The lounge was cosy central, sofa deep enough for sprawling out with a film on the telly after a long day. Four bedrooms sorted us all out nicely: a family one with a double and single plus its own TV for the little ones, a massive king-size double with TV too (bliss for us grown-ups), and another double-single combo. The bathroom was a treat – luxury shower to perk you up or that freestanding bath for a proper unwind.

But the real magic? Getting properly lost in Derbyshire’s hidden corners, the kind of spots you only stumble on by accident. First morning, we parked up near Poole’s Cavern – everyone raves about that, but we veered off the path onto a sheep-dotted trail that led to a secret fern-choked gorge. No crowds, just the echo of dripping water and us gawping like kids. Later, aiming for Solomon’s Temple (that folly up on the hill), we missed the sign and ended up on a forgotten bridleway. Reward? A wildflower meadow with views over Buxton that felt like our private postcard. Laughed our socks off when we realised we’d been “lost” for two hours but happier than if we’d followed the map.

Afternoon took us wandering Pavilion Gardens’ quieter edges – skipped the café buzz for a tucked-away lily pond where dragonflies danced. Got chatting to a local who tipped us off about a hidden waterfall trail behind the old stables, just a short yomp from town. Crystal-clear cascade tumbling into a pebbly pool; we picnicked there, feet dangling in the chill. Even the rain joined in, turning it misty and magical. One evening, hunting a pub, we detoured down a lane to discover a teeny arboretum path – ancient trees whispering secrets, benches begging for a sit-down with a thermos.

Reflecting now, back home with the washing piling up, those accidental detours were the holiday’s heartbeat. In a world of Instagram hotspots, there’s something dead satisfying about chancing on your own gems. Derbyshire’s got ‘em in spades if you let the sat nav snooze and trust the getting-lost vibe. We’re already plotting a return – next time, I’ll “accidentally” miss that roundabout on purpose.