That was a very steep hill. I made it up there, very slowly so as to stretch my legs. After a three hour drive across 177 miles, stretching one’s legs was a bit useful.

I decided to go on a writing adventure to follow in the footsteps of one Agatha Christie. I thought it might help inspire, help kick start the writing process and bolster my confidence. Confidence in driving all that way; I’m still growing when it comes to long journeys and motorways. But also after a year where I’ve felt bruises in my work not getting very far, I could write with some joie de vivre.

Apparently, Agatha Christie spent two weeks at the Moorland and wrote her draft there. I can say that this did make the air a bit more romantic. If such a great Briton can go there, feel compelled to write, that why not test the hypothesis?

The walk up to Haytor Rocks was bracing, the breeze was a bit nippy and the moors were an ambient character in themselves. I can understand how Marple or Poirot might suddenly appear. I strongly recommend The Moorland Hotel. The staff were brilliant, and couldn’t do enough for me. As a solo traveler, I often feel anxious about such things. (Every now and again, I do get asked where my husband is. Well, if you’re looking for him, what hope do I have?) Was a lovely place, with lovely people. Rather enjoyed it.

I did write, and I did enjoy it. I’m committed to writing, to stretching my imagination. I travelled with about four different notebooks, to finally settle on what I wanted to write. I think I have a vague plan now as to what I might do this year.