Avoiding such temptations (for the meantime) the number 17 bus takes you from the station to St. Paul’s – and seemingly within minutes – the hostel is there, just round the corner in Carter Lane. Andy, Alan, Patricia, Liz and Boh and I stored our bags and then mobile phone numbers, before venturing out on a well researched crawl of London’s best public houses in the area.

Fortunately on our way to the first pub, a slight detour allowed us girls the opportunity to admire the jewellery walled up but glittering in the shop fronts along Hatton Gardens. Back on track, we walked under the beautiful Holborn Viaduct, to reach our first destination, ‘The Cittie of York,’ selling Sam Smiths – and sundry wines too.

Entering this pub is like walking into history. There is a high wooden vaulted ceiling, wood panelled alcoves and beautiful chandelier, dating from its origins as a coffee house in 1695. Beneath is a cellar, where refugees from the Gordon Riots allegedly took refuge in the mid eighteenth century. There are also many cartoons on the walls – references to the nearby ancient Inns of Court around Chancery Lane.

Fortified, we walked back towards St. Paul’s and crossed the bridge to the South Bank, it was cold and breezy, but the view, as always, forces you to stop mid way and try to take as much in as possible: The Eye, the Gherkin, Tate Modern, we even saw the outline of the peregrine falcon that lodges there, way up high and very, very aloof!

We headed towards Southwark Cathedral where we visited one of several excellent pubs on the streets close to Borough Market – ‘The Wheatsheaf’, where the beer is also good (Young’s) and people to and fro to the wonderful market opposite. Here Liz discovered the most amazing mince pies. The pastry was made from spelt flour, and even one wholesome crumb is yummy! We also were pleased to meet up again with Andy, who had taken a Thames Ferry to Greenwich.

Our London pub crawl – already good was about to become even more special, as Alan guided us to ‘The George’ an incredible galleried inn – with courtyard opposite a dreadful 20th century building, easily blotted out though by the memories of Dickens, who mentions ‘The George’ in his book ‘Little Dorrit’. The bouncer was a joyful and very broad shouldered exponent of – ‘Cage Fighting’. It is a martial art, for which he had sculptured his hair into eye-catching spikes. We ate dinner at a good Turkish restaurant – ‘Tas’ and walked back to the hostel, and unpacked for the night.

The following morning, which was very bright, cold and windy, we decided to go to the V and A museum, hoping also to see the ‘Wildlife Of The Year Exhibition’ at The Natural History Museum next door.

We sat in the café of the V and A, contemplating which of the many wonderful other rooms and exhibitions to visit. We decided that we could see the Lee Miller photographic exhibition. Such an iconic figure, ‘an artist of the electric century’ (1907-77) Miller pioneered the use of solarisation in her work. A contemporary of Man Ray, she starred in Cocteau’s surreal film, ‘The Blood of a Poet’. She photographed in Egypt during the 1930′s and between 1940 and 45, filmed war images including blitzed London, field hospitals in Normandy, liberated Paris and Hitler’s apartment in Munich.

Perhaps it was just as well we were unable to see the ‘Wildlife Photographer of the Year’ exhibition as we were already feeling the effects of so much art, and we still had ‘The Terracotta Army’ to go! The Natural History Museum is anyway fascinating, with incredible displays, including a simulated earthquake experience, which is not to be missed. But the time was getting short, and we had to leave South Kensington, to head for The British Museum.

The Terracotta Army exhibition being held there includes models of warriors, archers, chariots, and weapons, paraphernalia of the first Chinese Emperor – Qin, who hoped to rule the world from his final temple resting place. He was buried alongside this fabricated army of 7,000 life-size figures in preparation for his last battle and after life, in the province of Xi’an, centre of the huge country he had conquered and unified.

It is breath taking – the chilling mass production of terracotta torsos, heads and body parts, and their overlapping bronze armour, serried rows of these ‘soldiers’, buried in fighting position more than 2000 years ago. There are some birds and musicians included in the treasures, and hints of yet to be discovered treasures buried at the centre of the vast excavation site, probably the Emperor’s tomb.

Later, in ‘The Bree Louise’ on Cobourg St , we compared impressions of the story of the beginnings of the Chinese Empire, the army, the standardisation of the script (still in use today) and the skills of conscripted soldiers and slaves. It is incredible to imagine the genesis of such a successful albeit violent empire. The pub sold Bateman’s ‘Mystique Scorpio’ and Old Rosie Cider, which we just had time to enjoy, before some of us walked to St. Pancras. (Liz and Boh stayed another day in London.)

Patricia and I also had time (so we thought) for a glass of champagne at the famous station bar – but did miss our train… We were fortunate to catch the next one, and so ended our eventful London visit – only slightly late home.

I would especially like to thank Alan for finding great pubs for us to visit and also everyone who came for helping to make the weekend lively and interesting.

However, there was a good selection of drinks on offer, including bottled ales, nice cider and pleasant wines – and lots of news to catch up on. Kathy and Angela bravely arrived with injuries from previous sporting events, so planned a trip to Chatsworth House for the following day.

The hostel itself – perched on the steep Hawkhill Road is a Victorian pile, complete with towers and turrets beaming or glowering over the village, depending in your taste in architecture. The surrounding beech woods were planted to protect the the house from shifting shale, and early on Saturday there was a lot of rustling of leaves as the wind picked up and whistled through their tall branches.

The walk on Saturday followed a path from the hostel, through the village across Middleton and Longstone Moor past disused lead mines and a reservoir to the steep Cressbrook valley, along the Wye river bank for a short distance then towards Wardlow Mires, and back across a good track and grassy fields into Eyam – just before dusk fell.

The way was fairly undulating and since 25 were on the walk, seemed to suit everyone’s pace, as we all arrived at the Three Stags Heads in Wardlow Mires more or less together soon after 1pm. (Mick having recovered from a nasty slip, thanks to Sheila’s first aid skills). The pub was an old haunt of Dave’s, two small flagstoned rooms – wooden tables – benches – roaring fires in each room and numerous prints and photos on the walls, definitely a place to linger.

The real ales on offer included their own specially brewed Black Lurcher (8%) and Mattins and Brimstone (about 4% I am told.) The coffee also tasted good, served in large hand potted and glazed mugs. Rowena’s dog seemed to feel especially at home and sprawled across her lap very comfortably in the warm atmosphere.

At the outset of the walk we had passed a farm of Alpacas, beautiful cream-furred creatures with big dark eyes, described by Tony Thompson as ‘long-necked sheep’, and on our return along the track, a few of us wondered if we had seen a pair of red kites, but I’m not sure if that is possible, it could have been the fading light!

31 members sat down to the Christmas meal in the evening – an absolute feast, served incredibly efficiently to us and other hostellers, including 14 members from the Telford group. The menu was: home made vegetable soup or melon, turkey or vegetarian dinner, Christmas pudding, ice cream sorbet of fruit coulis and coffee and mints. There were even seconds of of the chef’s famous roast parsnips. Alan thanked all the staff on behalf of everyone.

We chatted about the day’s events and heard about the adventures of of the group that had visited Chatsworth House, where 12 rooms depicted scenes from ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. The seemingly light Christmas song possibly contains greater religious symbolism and significance than previously thought. Kathy knows more about this – and the problems of reaching Chatsworth by bus from Eyam so I will pass on.

After dinner, the Telford group ‘murdered’ (their description) some carols and we mulled over beautiful photographs from the year. The landscape section was won by John for a lovely seascape, and the humour and portrait sections were won by Chris for his excellent studies of geese crossing the road at the ‘geese crossing’ sign and Turnersque sheep profiles. Norman also showed his spectacular prints taken during his motorbike trip to the Western Himalayas.

On Sunday, John led a walk from behind the hostel away from the direction of the village. The rise through the beech woods gave way to muddier paths across an increasingly wintry, windswept moorland. It seemed as though the mild weather had finally given way to winter chill along these tracks amid the white gorse. Huddled against a stone wall, sandwiches (the best including cold turkey and stuffing) were quickly consumed and afterwards Alice led a shorter walk back to Eyam. John’s party headed further along the edge of the moor, before also heading back to the village.

We passed the famous Mompesson’s Well, where during the plague, money had been ‘purified’ in running water, in line with the strict quarantine imposed by the rector, Mompesson, in order to prevent further spread of the disease. The history of ‘The Plague Village’ is of course greatly in evidence, plaques commemorate some of the homes and graves of the 260 individuals who died between 1665 an 1666 as a result of the bubonic plague.

The seventeenth century Eyam Hall in the centre of the village is adjoined by a the buttery where now delicious snacks such as BLT sandwiches are quickly prepared. The hot chocolate is good too. There was time to drop in to sample food and the craft workshops after the walks. On Saturday Andy’s ruck sack somehow dislodged a picture from the wall in the cafe much to the amusement of onlookers, and leaving a not unpleasant free space!

Other things to see in the village, apart from church of St. Lawrence, include the stone water troughs built in 1588 – one of the first examples of a water supply system in the country, which continued until the 1920′s. The church is the starting point for the annual procession for the Well Blessing Ceremony held at the end of August, which is followed by the Sunday Plague Commemoration Service.

Back to the car park, and contemplating the return journey to Leicester, the weekend was almost finished. Well not quite, because it has been lovely to look back on during the days leading up to the Christmas merry -go- round of traditional events. It was nice that two new members, Maryian and Stephanie joined us on their first weekend away with the group. All thanks to Alan who masterminded the weekend, to Tony and John for leading the walks, and to all the drivers, next stop, New Year at Grin Low!