First impressions are lasting impressions; or so they say. Indeed, such were my memories of Staffordshire from a school visit to the Potteries many years ago that I had filed the entire county away as dull, grey and industrial.

Some years later, when I accompanied my husband for a job interview in Wolverhampton (now in the West Midlands) I begged him not to take the position because of the dreary atmosphere the place had bestowed upon me.

How wrong I was to tar the whole of Staffordshire with the same brush.

Staffordshire must surely epitomise everything overseas visitors love about England. We meandered through postcard-pretty villages and glorious country estates and across lonely heath-covered moorland to magnificent stately homes.

Toss in some striking peaks, a spectacular cave, peaceful lakes and a wealth of legends and history and it’s no wonder that now I’d really rather keep these joys of middle England all to myself. It’s only because of guilt at my serious misjudgement that I am sharing them now.

There’s nothing that could rub this guilt in as much as sitting in a canopied conservatory restaurant watching narrowboats glide gracefully by on the canal just a few metres from our breakfast table.

We were staying at AA****The Moathouse, a delightful 14th century moated manor house in the village of Acton Trussell, right on the edge of Cannock Chase.

It was to prove to be the perfect base for exploring the Chase and the late Lord Patrick Lichfield’s former ancestral home of Shugborough Hall nearby.

It was also just a short drive further north to the Staffordshire part of the Peak District. While many visitors make a beeline for neighbouring Derbyshire, the Staffordshire part of the national park is almost deserted by comparison. And all the better for it, I believe.

Peace is certainly not the word I would have associated with Staffordshire from those long ago visits. Yet, high up on the Morridge, a few miles north east of Leek, where the lonely Mermaid Inn stands beside the Mermaid pool, it felt like a world apart from the big, noisy cities embedded in my memory.

Legend has it that this eerily still pool is home to an evil mermaid who will use her talons to drag you into its’ depths; which is very curious, considering you are about as far away from the sea here as it is possible to be.

I loved the views from the Morridge, stretching far into Cheshire and broken only by the landmark Ramshaw Rocks, which strike out rather aggressively above the Leek to Buxton Road.

Later we wandered among these rocks, giving names to their curious shapes and taking shelter among them from the very chill winds. The nearby village of Flash is the highest in England, so it was no wonder that we felt the cold.

These rocks are part of an area known as The Roaches, where, incredibly, and not so long ago either, wallabies bounded. The marsupials were released in World War II from a local private zoo and managed to breed and survive until the late 1990s. Walkers and rock climbers, with whom the area is particularly popular, claim they still spot the odd creature or two hopping about. Sadly, we failed to find any.

What we did find, though, was the stuff of legends. Steep steps at the side of quaint Rockhall Cottage, built into the lower tier of The Roaches, led us to more wonderful views over Tittesworth Reservoir below.

Up here is another ‘bottomless’ dark pool, the Doxey Pool, in which an even more hideous mermaid than the one up on the Morridge is said to live.

Locals say that the pool is named after the daughter of the notorious highwayman, Bowyer of the Rocks, who lived in a cave which later became part of Rockhall. The girl was carried off by strange men and her ghost is ‘heard’ singing in these parts.

So it is probably no surprise that, with all this unnerving talk of ghouls and ghosties, my visit to the deep, damp gorge below The Roaches that they call Lud’s Church was a fairly quick one.

I can easily believe the claim that the sun never shines here. This is where, 600 years ago, the Lollards, who were persecuted by the Catholic Church, apparently held their secret religious services.

There surely could not have been a better place in which to hide than in this sinister-feeling chasm with its dripping, fern-clad walls.

It was with great relief that I emerged at the other end of the gorge onto the pretty wooded path which gently winds upwards again to a ridge from which I could see across to Shutlingsloe hill and to the huge telescope at Jodrell Bank and the outskirts of Manchester beyond.

On the way back to ‘base’ we stopped off at Rudyard Lake. It was such a serene place, with only the soothing chuff-chuff of its lake railway to break the silence, that it was hard to associate it with once being a mecca for up to 20,000 day trippers.

In the late 19th century people poured in at the weekends from Manchester and the Potteries to ride the funfair, listen to brass bands, take out a rowing boat or visit one of dozens of tea rooms along the shoreline. In fact, Rudyard Lake made such an impression on a pair of young lovers, John Lockwood Kipling and Alice Macdonald, that they named their first child after the lake.

At Shugborough next day we had been warned, on the way in to the working farm area, that the people we were about to meet thought that they were living in 1805.

As you can imagine, our first conversation with a middle-aged gardener working hard in the vegetable plot, was rather surreal.

Later, at Park Farm, the showpiece farmhouse built at the turn of the 19th Century as a model for visiting landowners to copy, ‘Mrs Wheelock’ proffered warm Welsh cakes. She expressed somewhat pitying surprise when I told her that I could not make them because I did not have a griddle.

Caught up in the moment, I didn’t dare tell her that it would not be quite the same cooking them on an electric cooker instead of a range either.

Even at this very popular tourist venue there are somewhat disturbing undertones.

The origin of the estate’s name is Shug, meaning a devil or evil spirit, and barrow, a burial mound. And one of the oldest yew trees in England – said to ward off evil spirits – grows in the grounds. In the Tower of the Wind, strange flickering candles have been glimpsed after dark.

Add to that the strange inscription on the Shepherd’s Monument – the meaning of which has never been uncovered – and you can appreciate that it is the sort of mystery the local tourist board probably loves.

But it’s no mystery to me why I now find Staffordshire so appealing.

The great shame is that I didn’t take the time to do it justice before.

What to see

* Cannock Chase: glimpse deer descended from Norman times. This entire area was once the hunting ground of ancient royalty. Now it is a wonderful outdoor playground for thrill-seekers, as well as those, like us, who like to take it a bit easier. The best way to discover the Chase is by cycling. Hire bikes from Swinnertons Cycles at the Birches Valley Forest Centre.

* Churnet Valley Railway: This runs for 10 miles through picturesque countryside between Cheddleton, with its Victorian station and Froghall, past the sleepy rural station of Consall.

* Caldon Canal: Walk three miles south of Leek, to take a look at the historic Cheddleton Flint Mill. The site features two water mills, a small museum and a period cottage.

* Thors Cave: This looms over the picturesque Manifold valley, west of Leek, which offers an easy and traffic-free walking and cycling route. Scramble inside this cave where remains of long-extinct animals have been found.

Staying there

Helen and her family stayed at The Moathouse, Acton Trussell, where double rooms start at £150 per night. In addition to a la carte dining and a Saturday night gourmet menu, the restaurant offers a great value early doors menu from 6.30-7.30pm (not Saturdays). There is also a brasserie menu. 01785 712217. Log on to moathouse.co.uk

WEBLINKS * enjoystaffordshire.co.uk * www.churnet-valley-railway.co.uk * www.shugborough.org.uk * www.roaches.org.uk * www.cannock-chase.co.uk * www.bikechase.co.uk (Swinnertons Cycles’ hire). * Rudyard Lake Railway; www.rlsr.org * Cheddleton Flint Mill is open weekends and some week days; 01782 502907.