





We left Manchester late morning, rolled to Edale with coffee still warm, and followed the old packhorse lines onto kinder edges. A sudden shower cleared, skylarks rose, and we caught a later train smiling, boots muddy, legs humming, conversations brighter than before.
Starting from Exeter by rail, we climbed aboard a coastal service where gulls drafted the wind outside panoramic windows. A short walk linked viewpoints, ice cream met salt spray, and timing the return felt effortless, carried home on happy fatigue and sun-stippled chatter.
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