We were, inevitably, way too early. But that was okay; it meant we had chance to drink in the morning light … and a morning coffee… at the Barrel Inn, perched high above the little village of Great Hucklow where, in a magical shift of imagination and by the power of a ‘willing suspension of disbelief’, we would soon find ourselves in the temples of ancient Egypt.

For the moment, however, we stood with the wind in our hair, blowing away the cobwebs of the night. Below us a bank of yellow gorse echoed the sunlight, tumbling like a golden stream down the hillside… a river of the sun indeed.

The road that runs along the ridge from the ancient hillfort of Burr Tor is little more than a narrow track. On one side are tamed fields, bounded by age-old walls of Derbyshire stone; on the other the wild moors lead to the distant peaks that stand sentinel over the landscape. Here you have the feeling of being poised between worlds… a fitting place to take a deep breath before plunging into the magical mayhem of the weekend.

On the one hand you could perhaps call it madcap mysticism… a time of laughter and friendship, where a playful spirit reigns, where traditions hide their eyes in their starched aprons as we use popular music for meditations and we all dive for the pub at the end of the evening. On the other hand it is a true spiritual journey, exploring aspects of the inner self and bringing spirituality out of the shadows to be where it needs to be… right in the centre of everyday life.

There is a misconception that spirituality needs to be sober and serious. It is both, of course, and more than both, yet that does not preclude laughter or mischief. The spiritual journey should bring joy and is characterised by a lightness of being rather than a heaviness of heart and the weight of sorrow. Here, on such a morning in spring, it is as if the world smiles back and the blossom-laden trees nod in approval…

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