Winster: My First Sit in 2026

I arrived in the Peak District the day after Boxing Day. It had been a busy Christmas with a fair bit of family drama, and I was ready for some quiet. Seventeen days of someone else's dog, walks across the moors, and not much else was exactly what I needed.

The Place

Winster is a beautifully quaint village. Cobbled streets, windy alleyways, and a public footpath every few hundred yards taking you off into glorious scenery practically right from the door.

I was staying in a manor house that had been converted into four homes. Original timber beams and limestone walls, but completely modernised inside. I had a guest room with a massive superking bed, my own cute en suite, and a kitchen that was a chef's dream. Every gadget you could want. The homeowners had even cleared storage space for my food.

I only visited Chatsworth to walk the dog and I picked up a TGTG from the Bakewell Original Bakery (there are at least three claiming to be "original"). And I was disappointed with myself for not doing more. But that disappointment faded pretty quickly when I realised I was doing exactly what I needed, which was very little.

Bernie

Bernie was 14, arthritic, and not particularly affectionate, though she'd tolerate a back scratch now and again. I think at her age she was avoiding any possible ways of getting hurt. But she still loved her walks, getting properly excited when she saw the lead.

I'd never seen a dog poop while walking before. Just... doing it on the move. So scooping as we went was a new skill.

You learn a lot from other people's animals.

The Snow

It wouldn't be a Michelle experience without some adventure.

Midway through the sit, there was a yellow snow warning. Having mostly lived in London, I thought "it's fine, I can drive through snow." Here's the thing: driving with snow coming down is completely different to driving with 20cm of snow already on the ground.

I'd gone to the cutest little cinema in a nearby village that evening to see The Housemaid, would recommend. It was a 15-minute drive from Winster, but it took me over two hours to get back.

My trusty old Honda Jazz made it almost all the way, to the village before mine. What would normally be a 3-minute drive is at least a 45-minute walk. So at 23:15, I abandoned the car and started walking.

And honestly? It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. So peaceful. Everything silent and white. Just me, crunching through the snow at nearly midnight, completely alone.

I got three-quarters of the way up the hill when a farmer in a 4x4 stopped and offered me a lift. He'd just finished milking. At that hour. That sounds like a hard life.

What I Took Away

I arrived depleted. I left feeling like myself again.

Sometimes you don't need adventure or culture or productivity. Sometimes you just need a superking bed, a grumpy old dog, and permission to do nothing for a while. House-sitting gives me that, like staying at the very best Airbnb, but with a built-in reason to get outside every day.

I very much hope I get to sit for Bernie again. Preferably when the roads are clearer.