Chatsworth House

The hotel was rather more stars than we are used to. Four, to be exact. I went down to the swimming pool to practise my pencil dives. No allowed. I sat in the whirlpool, which didn't whirl until I was out. I then sat in the steam room and gasped in steam (that can't be good for you!) for what seemed like ages, but was probably about two minutes. So I felt I had used the 4 star facilities.

We had a very nice meal and bottle of wine, included in the price. There was a grand piano, and a huge pillar hid the fact that there was no pianist, but there was a piano soundtrack. I could almost imagine a live performance. It was almost acceptable, because it wasn't loud, screechy, twangy Whitney Houston warbling.

The evening was enlivened by an Indian wedding with dozens of young women in beautiful coloured saris. I didn't have my camera, but took a few with my iPad, none too successful.

Breakfast next morning was accompanied by the normal muzak, with lots of screeches and high notes, sort of jolly Carpenters covers with a bit of X Factor high notes and warbles. Just the thing with my scrambled egg! Not.

We had a lovely most of the day at Chatsworth. The day was inclement in the morning - ideal for looking round the stately home. By the time we came out the weather was sunny and we had a wander round the gardens, and of course, managed a scone in the cafe.

Afternoon tea was also included in our mini break price. I had understood that it was to be taken with the Duchess at Chatsworth. Wrong. It was back at the hotel. We really didn't need it, but rushed back at 5pm to indulge. And it was very good. Very very good.