Bux fizz on menu
walking tour company, points out how the Castleton side of the ridge is in the White Peak made up of limestone cliffs, before we cross over into the Dark Peak.
I soon learn that this is not just about the change in the colours of the landscape, as I am no longer at risk of sliding on the perilous chalky paths as we descend on the grippy gritstone of the Edale Valley.
However, the mud is all too ready to undermine this false sense of security and sends one of our group landing bottom first.
The mud is a reminder of the drizzle which is progressing to a downpour and doing its best to penetrate my waterproofs.
But, as Paul points out, without the rain we would not have the vivid greens that spread to the horizon in all directions.
And if it was not for the region’s rain, the majestic Buxton Crescent hotel would never have started business 230 years ago. It was originally built on St Ann’s Well, a source of thermal mineral spring water which has been drawing people to the town for hundreds of years, including Mary Queen of Scots who stayed at the neighbouring Old Hall Hotel while a prisoner of Elizabeth I.
It is also the same spring used for the town’s bottled water found in supermarkets across the UK.
It was William Cavendish, the fifth Duke of Devonshire, who commissioned the Crescent hotel in 1780, reportedly out of suspicion that his wife was playing away while visiting Bath’s own famous crescent.
However, by the time the two hotels and lodgings opened, the peak of the fad for spa towns had passed and although it remained popular, Buxton Crescent’s glory slowly faded over the years until 1989 when it finally shut its doors. But a determined effort by the local councils to resurrect the site resulted in a £24million grant from the Heritage Lottery Fund towards the £70million refurbishment by the Ensana hotel group, to create the five-star health spa which finally opened in October 2020, only to shut 33 days later because of Covid-19 restrictions.
Six months later, the doors were open again allowing Buxton to claim its place back on the list of the country’s exclusive spa towns.
Having swapped my drenched waterproofs for a bath robe and flip flops, I head directly to the spa, where mud is on the menu again –this time a Therapeutic Thermal Mud Pack.
Traditionally, spa-goers in Buxton would have peat slapped on their bodies to absorb the goodness, but nowadays the local muck is legally protected, so Buxton Crescent has sourced its mud from
the Hungarian town of Heviz, which is renowned for its minerals.
As I lie in the treatment room, therapist Hannah assures me the mud has been heated to 40C as she applies it to my back and my joints. The application alone makes my muscles relax after our hike.
While the mud cools and the minerals seep in, Hannah gives me a head massage which almost tips me over the edge into an afternoon nap.
After softly asking if I’m awake, she helps me shower off the mud. As she leads me to my next treatment, my legs feel surprisingly light.
Next stop is a CO2 Infusion Mineral Bath using Buxton’s famous thermal mineral water enhanced with carbon dioxide to make it bubbly. The aim is to enhance micro circulation within the body and lower blood pressure. Well, I can’t tell you how my micro circulation is after a 25-minute soak, but my relaxation levels are certainly peaking.
Reluctantly leaving my tin bath, I explore the extensive spa, which is spread over three floors. I start with a dip in the fully-refurbished Victorian Thermal Pool,
which has
Having swapped my waterproofs for flip flops, I head directly to the spa
chemically untreated Buxton mineral water flowing into it.
I follow with a burst of heat in one of the saunas, before completing my relaxation in the luxurious indooroutdoor heated rooftop pool.
I’m surprised the water feels just as warm as the mineral bath and, as I swim through the flap into the outdoor section, a smile breaks out on my face as I realise it’s raining but I’m warm, despite the cold drizzle falling on my hair and shoulders.
I lean back against the underwater jets and stare over the balcony as I realise the last of my lingering aches have been fully washed away.