I’ll never forget the drive up to Buxton – sat nav decided to have a cheeky detour through some winding lanes that had me white-knuckling the wheel, convinced we’d end up in a cow field. But as we finally crested the hill, there it was: this gorgeous second-floor apartment tucked into a Grade II listed mansion house right next to the Pavilion Gardens. Heart racing from the near-miss, I stepped out and bam – first impressions were spot on. Stunning views over the parks, dead easy parking, and that buzz of anticipation as we hauled our bags up the stairs, dreaming of Peak District adventures.

Inside, it was pure comfort: a massive kitchen-diner kitted out with everything you’d need to bash up a fry-up or heat a curry from the local takeaway. The sitting room’s plush sofas begged for a Netflix binge, and the bedrooms? Two super-kings (one with epic garden views and its own telly), plus a cracking king-size with a skylight that made it feel airy and posh. Two bathrooms too – a bath for proper soaks and a walk-in shower for quick mornings – perfect for our little group of mates.

We’d planned the big hitters like the Opera House and Botanical Gardens, but the real magic happened when we ditched the map and got properly lost. First afternoon, wandering from the apartment, we stumbled on John William’s Pond – this hidden wee lake just a short ramble away, ducks paddling about like they owned the place. Sat on a bench with flasks of tea from the kitchen, it felt like our secret spot, miles from the coach tours.

Next day, aiming for a casual stroll, we veered off-path near the Crescent – Buxton’s fancy old spa bit – and found ourselves on a forgotten trail snaking up to Poole’s Cavern. Not the main entrance, mind; we tripped over a side path to this viewpoint overlooking the cavern mouth, bats flitting at dusk. Proper spine-tingiller, that. Laughed our heads off when we realised we’d looped back via a drystone wall path no guidebook mentions, emerging muddy and triumphant right by the Pavilion Gardens again.

The best was day three: faffing about after brekkie at the breakfast bar, we followed a whim down a side lane off the Crescent Walks and discovered Solomon’s Temple. Not the biblical one – a quirky little folly atop Grin Low, with panoramas over Buxton that knocked our socks off. We’d got lost in the woods en route, phones on zero signal, but that’s when you notice the wild bluebells and hear the actual silence. Picnicked with sarnies we’d made, feeling like explorers.

Looking back, that’s the joy of basing yourself here – it nudges you off the tourist trail into these accidental gems. I’m usually a planner to a fault, always fretting about itineraries, but getting lost taught me to loosen up. No regrets, just brilliant memories and a promise to return for more Buxton surprises. If you’re after a Peak District pad that sparks proper adventure, this is it.