I’ll never forget the drive up to Buxton last month – we’d packed the car with enough snacks to feed a small army, but about halfway through the Peak District, the sat-nav decided to throw a wobbly and sent us down a narrow lane that looked more like a sheep track. There I was, white-knuckling the wheel, convinced we’d end up in someone’s farmyard, while my other half helpfully suggested we “embrace the adventure”. Twenty minutes of mild panic later, we popped out right on the high street, laughing at our daft selves. Honestly, it was the perfect start to what turned out to be the laziest holiday imaginable.

Pulling up to the place, my heart did a little flip – those big windows promised views that would make forgetting the world outside a doddle. It’s this cracking first-floor apartment smack in the middle of Buxton’s historic spa town vibe, all stylish and roomy with two bedrooms for that proper getaway feel. Stepping into the hallway and turning left into the open-plan living space felt like sinking into a hug. The massive windows overlook the bustling town centre and those gentle Slopes, framing everything just right for lounging about. And the kitchen? Fitted out like a dream with top-notch units, an American fridge/freezer that spits out ice on demand, electric oven, and induction hob – though we barely used it beyond toasting crumpets.

From that moment, it was all about doing precisely nothing, and it was bliss. We’d flop onto the sofas with a pot of tea, books in hand, watching the world go by below. The Slopes looked ever so inviting, all lush and green, but the joy was in not budging – just gazing out, letting the day unfold at snail’s pace. Mornings blurred into brewing coffee, flicking through a dog-eared novel (I finally finished that P.G. Wodehouse I’d been lugging around for years), and nibbling on whatever we rustled up without any faff. One afternoon, I swear I spent three hours perfecting the art of cloud-spotting from the window seat, chuckling at how I’d morphed into a proper layabout.

There’s something magic about Buxton for slowing right down – the spa town hums along without demanding you join in. We wandered just far enough for a pasty from the bakery round the corner, then back to base for more reading and dozing. No grand hikes, no packed itineraries; just lazy cottage days that made you forget what day it was. I had this gentle moment of reflection one evening, feet up, mug in hand, thinking how we’re all rushing about like headless chickens back home. Here, in this cosy spot, I realised doing sod all is the real luxury – recharging the batteries without a single to-do list in sight.

By the end of the week, we were so chilled we almost forgot to pack up. If you’re after a Peak District escape that’s all about unwinding, this is your spot. Pure, unadulterated loafing heaven.