For my eyes only – baring all on a Pennine ramble

Dark Peak, Derbyshire Even avowed outdoor evangelists should be allowed to keep one or two places to themselves

I am not going to tell you where I am writing about. It is one of those places of personal sanctity that has, miraculously, escaped the popular attention I am fully aware it deserves. Even avowed outdoor evangelists should be allowed to keep one or two of these places to ourselves.

I discovered it a few years ago, but had not gone back since. On a searing day this spring, after two excruciating hours inching through Manchester traffic, it flashed back into my head on my journey over the Pennines. Craving the mini-rebirth of a soak in wild water, I fled my car and marched up to it in my work clothes. There it shone, almost landscaped in its perfection, the porter-coloured beck tumbling down in bright cascades over exquisite water-smoothed shelves of rock. The cool pool at the bottom was treacle-dark and deep enough for submersion; water from heaven.