As the modern cricketer hops from Crowne Plaza to Holiday Inn, well rewarded and with plenty of time for golf, he or she might feel perfectly content. But life has not always been a merry-go-round of air-con and airports.
Hop off the train at Grindleford, where homemade bunting loops along the platform fence, highlighting books about trains in this national year of reading, and you’re in the Peak District. There’s been early morning rain and the trees, damply beautiful, are on the turn. Golden beech, rusty horse chestnut, hues of greens and yellows, disappear up the slopes of Padley Gorge and into the valleys.
