From the top of Pendle Hill, one could see the late afternoon sun sparkling on Morecambe Bay - near where we'd been staying just a few days earlier.
Or so I'm told, because I didn't make it to the top, thanks to Sophie's five-year-old legs and her rather over-enthusiastic initial start to the climb. Only Robin, ever eager to photograph the view in its' best light, got to the summit and was able to report back, both glowingly and somewhat gloatingly,about the spectacular vista. Which makes me all the more determined, of course, to go there again. For though we'd crammed quite a lot of sightseeing into our nine days of experiencing what the local tourist board called the "coastal and countryside
contrasts" of Lancashire, we'd barely scratched the surface of this wonderfully varied county.
The most important aspect of travelling for us is including places that will appease the whims of our girls - Sophie and her older sister, Elena (16) - enough to give us a little peace. Particularly so, because, as campers, we were in a very confined space.
So the idea of starting out at Morecambe Bay and wending through the Forest of Bowland to a comfortable Caravan and Camping Club campsite at Clitheroe was very appealing. Along the way we were to take in a traditional seaside resort and ancient hunting grounds, watch baby boars frolicking in the mud (and, later, to eat what were probably their parents), learn everything we'd ever need to know about windmills, listen for the hoot of somewhat elusive bitterns at a wildlife reserve and hear about the terrible fate of the Pendle witches.
And that's all before we even clapped eyes on the little town of Clitheroe, presided over by the majestic ruins of its castle - and treated the girls to an exciting day out at Camelot Theme Park.  Morecambe has smartened up considerably since our last visit, thanks mostly to the Tern Art Project. Inspired by the huge variety of birds which
flock to the estuary, it has brought seabird-themed sculptures and fun pavement games to the five-mile stretch of promenade. This, and the little kiddies' playgrounds thoughtfully dotted along the seafront, enabled us to have an enjoyable stroll without any of the usual complaints from Sophie.
Of course, everyone wants to have their picture taken beside what must be the resort's most famous statue - that of the late Eric Morecambe. But the wonderful views across the bay towards the beckoning mountains of the Lake District are also a magnet for photographers - and birdwatchers.
Leaving the souvenir shops a mile or so behind us, we found Happy Mount Park at the eastern end of Morecambe's promenade. This was a great
place for Sophie to let off steam on the trampolines and play equipment whilst we found a sunny spot in the tranquil Japanese garden to recharge.
It was in this relaxed frame of mind that we ventured to the RSPB Leighton Moss nature reserve further north, near Carnforth, well known for its rare birds and other wildlife.
Short nature trails took us to several log cabin-like hides, where the walls were covered with information about every possible type of bird we were likely to find among the reedbeds - and some of which we could watch through the hides' discreet windows. Although the bittern eluded us, Sophie took great delight in peering into bat boxes, discovering a trail of deer prints and chasing after a paper trail of birds' feet and a variety of clues - another clever way of making learning about nature fun, we thought. Sophie and Elena had also spotted the leaflet for Marsh Mill windmill at Thornton-Cleveleys on the Wyre estuary and were eager to see inside. The area around the 18th century mill has been developed with specialist shops, tea rooms and a pub and was almost eerily quiet when we arrived.
This meant that we had the undivided attention of the miller Graham James, who took us step by step through the floors and explained precisely how the equipment on each would have been used in the days when it provided the flour for the locals' bread. There are some brilliant feats of engineering here and Graham is a fount of knowledge, but the view from the top, 70 feet up, is well worth the trip alone. One can see Blackpool tower standing sentinel on the horizon and a 360 degree vista took in a lot of the places we had either already visited throughout the Wyre area - or were about to. After all these coastal delights, the lure of the Forest of Bowland and Elena and Sophie's somewhat ghoulish interest in the tale of the witches who traversed the route from Pendle to Lancaster to their deaths in 1612, beckoned us.
So it was that we found ourselves winding along narrow roads across wild open moors before dropping down through the breathtaking Trough of Bowland. Even on a school holiday, this pass - like the rest of the Forest of Bowland - was deserted and, consequently, all the more magnificent for it, giving us the feeling that we'd come across an almost forgotten piece of England.
The Forest of Bowland of course, isn't really a forest - rather one of Britain's oldest hunting grounds of dramatic moorland, tiny stone hamlets and picturesque valleys and, justifiably, a designated area of outstanding natural beauty.
A little further on, near Chipping, we encountered the Bowland Wild Boar Park where we were taken on a 'hunt' to find the rather cute piglets and their not-so-cute parents - behind sturdy fences, thankfully. But we were allowed plenty of close encounters with other animals, including week-old chicks and a bunch of playful lambs which Sophie, in particular, had great fun bottle-feeding.
I was surprised to see a few wallabies, especially a baby Joey, popping playfully in and out of its' mum's pouch, and a white wallaby, the likes of which I have never seen outside of Australia.
There are some lovely walks to be had beside the river here, too, if you get tired of feeding greedy goats, horses, donkeys, llamas, rabbits and guinea pigs.
Sitting in the cosy Eddisford Bridge Inn, about a mile out of Clitheroe, later that day, it didn't seem a very good idea to tell Sophie what our deliciously meaty sausages were made of.
The inn is only a few minutes' walk across the river Ribble here to the Caravan and Camping Club's site. This is a great base for exploring the region and an even better one for families as it has a small park next to it as well as more swings, a miniature railway and an ice-cream parlour beside the river itself.
 We fell in love with Clitheroe. At first glance it appears a rather modest and quaint little town, but a glimpse at the designer cast-offs in the charity shop windows and the fact that the well-known High Street stores are, thankfully, few and far between among small, privately owned businesses, lend it a unique charm.
It was a bustling market day when we arrived and after pottering around a myriad of stalls we followed what appeared to be the local custom and bought some soup and sausage rolls from the busy bakers' shop and sat down in the shadow of the Norman keep to enjoy our spread.
Below the ramparts we came upon Clitheroe Castle museum and were equally charmed by its displays of life in an Edwardian home, the work of the clogger in his shop and an 18th century lead mine, complete with whistling miners.
Still enchanted by the little town and its surroundings, we moved a few miles west to take in even more history, this time to Whalley Abbey, with its beginnings in the 14th century. The Abbot's lodging and infirmary were adapted to make an Elizabethan Manor House and it is now run as a retreat house and conference centre for the Diocese of Blackburn. But the abbey ruins are open to the public and we enjoyed a leisurely stroll through the pretty, serene grounds, bordered by the river. There are information boards and a small indoors exhibition, which help bring an intriguing history to life.  Speaking of which, we could not leave the Forest of Bowland without learning more about the witches of Pendle whose shocking fate seems to overshadow the area - as far as tourists are concerned, at least. We found the Pendle Heritage Centre Museum at Barrowford the best place to start for an exhibition with lots of information and a short film about the witches. The museum itself is set in a restored manor house, the family home of legendary four minute miler Roger Bannister, and dating from the 17th century, with a walled garden and woodland walk, tea shop, tourist information and adjacent art gallery. It was from here we could have taken numerous car, walking or bike trails if the weather had been kinder. In fact, after studying the wealth of information available on the tourist board's excellent website, we could have done a whole lot more. But the laid-back Lancashire atmosphere seemed to have cast a spell over us, as had the thought of a day at Camelot Theme Park over our girls.
With barely any queues for rides and none of the blaring funfair music I usually associate with such places, it was a surprisingly relaxing and fun day for us parents.
Elena was happy because there was a good choice of the terrifying, twisting, upside-down kind of rides that teenagers (strangely) seem drawn to; I was happy because there was my favourite, the Pirate Ship and an amusing magic show and Sophie was happy because there was a small petting zoo and lots of rides for her age group.
But, for Robin and I, at least, the real enchantment of Lancashire lies not in its tourist attractions but in the beauty of its peaceful landscape, as encompassed in that view from Pendle Hill.
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