On a crisp winter’s afternoon, the sort where fallen leaves drift underfoot and stubble fields are rinsed with sunlight, few places appear more glorious for a countryside stroll than north Derbyshire. There are steep wooded valleys, clear trout streams and, it transpires a few hundred metres into our walk, impassable mudbaths stretching six feet across.

Unable to go around, we have no choice but to squelch through the quagmire caused by water draining off nearby unattended fields. My photographer colleague is the first to fall, his right leg buckling beneath him as he desperately cradles his camera. When he gets up again, he is streaked in mud from head to foot.

Next up (or down) is one of our guides, Nicky Philpott, director of advocacy and engagement for the walking charity Ramblers. Both legs slide out from under her on a particularly treacherous patch and she utters a small cry as she hits the ground. I slither my way out, just about managing to stay upright. But 30 minutes later, I, too, come a cropper on an overgrown bush that has obscured the route and land in a tangle of brambles.

The ancient Greek physician Hippocrates once described walking as “man’s best medicine”. I ruminate while picking thorns from my socks that he had clearly never braved the footpaths of the Moss Valley.