Buxton Camping Weekend 29-31May 2026

Thanks to Colin for this report on the SBH Camping Weekend to Buxton!

Following on from the success of the camping trip to Snowdon and hosteling in Kettlewell the previous year, the first foray of 2026 would be to the Peak District town of Buxton, as advertised in this fabulous flyer:

Following a bank holiday week and accompanied by an unusual appearance on the part

of the Sun, traffic on the Friday afternoon could be described as variable:

Although there’d be breaks enroute for some, not least at the customary Wetherspoons:

Upon arrival guests had a choice of tent, camper, pod or static caravan of which the latter

was undoubtably the most amenable. First prize for preparedness ~ which included the

Boy Scout badge ~ went to Ian Trencher, whose Skoda was not nearly so well-prepared:

This meant that others were to rely on camping-stoves, and I think it is clear that the

bacon was only half-cooked:

Friday evening’s activities commenced with orienteering that required a set

number of Stellas prior a visit to the brewery next door:

Although clearly it was worth it:

Afterward there would be the traditional toasting of the marshmallows, during which the

commandant would call by with a jolly “Put that ruddy light out!” for unfounded fears of

setting the peat ablaze:

Here though is what it was all about (-ish), with an early start and warm-up exercises at

the Pavilion Parkrun that eliminated most of the team with a groin-strain:

Although there was much in the way of video ~ and looking not unlike the 8mm home movies of yesteryear ~ we’ve to make do here with a series of stills instead. See if you

can spot yourself:

With that out of the way and a brunch to follow, after a ‘free period’ the happy campers

were to assemble for a walk and/or run across the dales to the south of the camp, where

Ian and Alina were set to demonstrate Nordic walking for the remainder of the group. At a

laying on of hands and a moment of prayer however, Alina would discard her sticks and

run instead… an episode now called “The Miracle of Buxton’ by the locals:

During the walk, some of the group were mystified by finding themselves in a farm-yard:

Where one of them would take the following picture, which was later sold to Hallmark as a

card of consolation for the recently departed. Dave was also to give a demonstration of

horse-whispering, something Jimmy followed up with dog-whispering the same evening,

before his nose was bitten off:

Nonetheless all would arrive safely at a folly called ‘Solomon’s Temple’:

Before returning home in a scene in which only Julie Andrews was missing:

On to the Saturday evening’s activities, which would accompany a BBQ in the

sort of weather that you wouldn’t expect outside of Greece. Among the first

games to be organised was the Girl Guides’ semaphore competition, won here by Sally and

Alina for their message “Where’s the Third Amigo?”:

Going down a storm next, a game whose copyright belongs again to Jimmy and in which

everyone has to shout “Hamda!” every time AC/DC mention the word “Thunda” in the

song of a similar name:

Thereafter. we moved on to the ‘best bum-crack’ party game, the jurors in the

background clearly debating the merits of that one here:

During the course of the evening we were also transported to the foothills of the

Bavarian Alps as Andy regaled the troops ~ albeit hindered in doing so by the author ~

with a thigh-and-calf slapping dance accompanied by the oompah band in Ian’s bluetooth

speaker:

And here we all are (where am I, where’s Wally?) in the aftermath following any number of

infringements of camp rules that will likely see us banned in future… and for which I can

only offer my own apologies to all concerned:

With the weather altogether more unsettled on the Sunday morning, the

survivors would assemble at Anna’s behest for a walk along the stepping-stones of Chee

Valley on the Monsal Trail. The choreography of the picture is my own and has since been

copied for an album-cover incidentally:

With only a scattering of campers left on the Monday morning ~ three nights being a

compulsory stay for those of a static-caravan persuasion ~ there was little else beside a

well-earned fry-up for the ‘happy couple’ we have to thank for the experience:

Next stop, Northumberland…

Colin