If you take the train to Matlock in Derbyshire, and can find a cabbie at the station who knows the way, you can drive the few miles out to Over Ferndale. There you may view Grindlow’s folly. If the weather is unusually fair, you can see it from a distance and save yourself the fruitless errand of hiking up the dale to look at it any closer.

Further, if you doubt the strength of your will and good judgement to overrule your curiosity about such things, I can tell you all about it now, and you may save yourself a hike, a cab fare, and even the return ticket to Matlock, unless you have some other reason to go there.

“We’re here!” Matt cheered as the car screeched over the surface of the obvious curb he’d missed in his revelry.

“Where, Daddy?” chirped Chloe from the backseat.

“The --” Matt squinted towards the roof of the hotel to verify where they’d ended up. “Oh, let’s say the Overlook Hotel.”

“Let’s not,” said Audrey.

“Haha, then a HoJo,” laughed Matt. “Everybody out of the car.”

“You want to, I don’t know, park the car first?” Audrey asked.