Looking back on our trip, adding a merged photo album

River Wharfe, sunny spell on the way to Burnsall

He said:
We have been home now for almost 2 weeks, having mostly, but not fully, recovered from whatever bug we had caught somewhere in Yorkshire.  In the last few days, I look back happily on our trip as I constructed and merged the panoramic and HDR photos I had taken.  I was reminded of the brief, but wonderful sunny spells we enjoyed just after, or just before the rain, showers, drizzle, and drab.  I was reminded of the wind, quite strong at times, that gave us such refreshing and clear air, while at times almost blowing us over.  I thought of the changes to the Wharfe as we walked nearer to its source, happy in the thought that the river, and the surrounding area is protected from development as part of the Yorkshire Dales National Park.

The upper reaches of Wharfedale after a shower

Photography, as I practice it, does not fully convey the feeling of gray, soggy days in a way to make the viewer really feel as we did.  But that soggy day hiking up boggy trails does lead to our happy stay for the night, even those days are to be celebrated.

Here is the link to the merged photo album:

London, June 5

He said:

We're done with our visit to the Lake District and have arrived in London.  Today, we paid a visit to the Science Museum, which has a large collection of historical items from many fields of science, including the last few centuries.  We are back in our room looking out of the window into the gray rainy gloom.  How fitting that I should now have a worse cold in preparation for our flight back home.

She said:

June 5

Park International Hotel, London

Morning

As expected, we had a dreamy, relaxing train ride yesterday from the Lake District to London.  Our taxi from Rothay Manor to the train station at Windermere drove us by Lake Windermere, a beautiful sight.  It’s easy to see why the British are gaga over the Lake District – most of their country is flat or with very small rolling hills.  The Lake District has some good-sized peaks and, well, lakes.  It is a huge tourist destination for Brits and we did find it somewhat clogged.  Put us off a bit as we expect clogged in London but clogged in the countryside seems wrong.  All that nice Nature gunked up by humans.

London hotel good – worked it and got a better room than first shown to us.  We walked in our posh neighborhood then hightailed it to the nearby Waitrose (like Safeway) and bought a roast chicken, salad stuff and, glory of glories, Sonoma Cutrer chardonnay.  Ate in our room overlooking the busy street below.

R now has my bad cold.

Things are quiet on the street this morning – Sunday. 

We plan to visit the Science Museum this morning and the Saatchi Gallery in Chelsea this afternoon.  I was at the Saatchi in April and loved it.  They have a new exhibit – entirely large-scale sculpture, which is my favorite – so I look forward to that.

Now, shower and breakfast.

Afternoon

Back from the Science Museum – good stuff, similar to our Smithsonian Museums in D.C.  Wandered through a James Watt exhibit – giant steam engines, Industrial Revolution timeline and how everything now is because of then (75% of power is still generated by steam – I did not know that.)  Another interesting exhibit was the History of Medicine.  On that one, suffice to say that it’s a good thing to be alive now.  Medicine leading up to now was superstitious at best and barbaric at worst.  (The OB/GYN instruments were scary.)

We’re in our third room here at The Park International – first was too small and looked out at the giant air conditioning fans, the second was too hot (giant air conditioning fans didn’t work for that room) and the third (present) is just right – top floor, lots of room, big views, good temps.

Had hoped to see the new Saatchi exhibit but now R is sick and since it’s pouring rain I’m happy to stay in for the rest of the day and read.  The French Open is on and we are cozy.  

A Beautiful Day in Ambleside, June 3

He said:

I really wish we were able to hike up a fell or pike today, the weather was great, perhaps a bit warm in the sun while climbing a hill, but as they say here “brilliant”.  We made our way to the town of Ambleside at the north end of Windermere, one of the largest lakes in England.  Ambleside is a true tourist town, with constant car and truck traffic going through it, shoppers clogging the streets, and so many shops selling outdoor and mountaineering items guaranteed to restore your youth and make you a legend.  I must say, some of the most out of shape people set out and really do climb to the tops of these hills, not that these are the Alps, but they do have steep uphills and downhills and loads of loose rocks.  The people of the UK are much more adventurous than the average person in the US (just my opinion).  Perhaps it’s that they feel so cooped up through the winter, that they really must get out and give it a go, especially when the weather is good (which seems to be rare up here).  It’s not unusual for a British hiker to walk 15 to 25 miles in a day, even the ‘older’ hikers.  Hats off!

She said:

June 3

Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel, Great Langdale to Rothay Manor, Ambleside

Our last day of walking – blue sky and sunshine!  We did taxi to the Rothay Manor but then walked around the town.  Ambleside seems to be a big destination, though we couldn’t quite work out why.  It has some cheesy shops, loads of B&Bs and Guest Houses, some iffy restaurants and more outdoor/hiking/climbing equipment stores than I have ever seen in one place.  Really, there are probably 15 REI-type shops in Ambleside.  This is curious as most of the tourists that we saw in Ambleside do not look like they would be happy hiking or climbing at all.

So much in life is a mystery.

We ate lunch off the main street down by a sweet stream in a tiny restaurant – excellent homemade hummus and sun-dried tomato sandwich, the best lemonade (R had a ginger beer) and a sampler plate of 5 desserts.  This was all in keeping with our unplanned program, against all odds, of actually gaining weight on our walking trip.  Sad, but true.

The Rothay Manor is a nice, over-the-top English hotel.  Our bathroom is bigger than my entire studio apartment was at the President Apartments on University Avenue.  Everything is big and grand and very fluffy and manicured.  To wit: I am sitting on our lovely balcony overlooking the green grounds and the croquet lawn.  A half block away is the lawn bowling club (alas, our train to London is too early tomorrow for me to get in a set - game? - of bowls.)

Ties at dinner.  R did bring one but we felt like hanging on our patio in our sweats instead of dressing for dinner so we shopped in town for a tasty Happy Hour food and beat the 100 pound dinner tab with cheese, olives, crisps, nuts, tomatoes and sliced turkey (8 pounds.)

London will bleed us dry, so might as well save our money for a place where I will actually be able to get as much buttery, creamy chardonnay that I can handle, no matter what the cost.  Can’t wait.

Health is solidly in “good.”  I’m sure I’ll be “very good” by the time we leave London and maybe even “excellent” when we get home.  Ironic is not quite the right word, but you probably get my drift.

Looking forward to London, as I always do.  It is my favorite city.

(Also looking forward to the train ride there.  First Class.  Very civilized.)     

Great Langdale Sunshine

At the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel, Great Langdale

He said:

Today, our route took us to the Great Langdale Valley for our stay at the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel in the higher fells and pikes of the Lake District.  The hotel has been located here for 300 years, they say…  The “U” shaped Great Langdale valley is perhaps 5 miles long, and surrounded by peaks as high as 3500’ in elevation.  The walkers and climbers are seen everywhere, walking up serpentine paths or climbing straight up the rocky faces of the pikes.  Today, the weather turned sunny and warm finally, what a change.  As we walked up the valley, and sun felt downright hot, I suppose we are not used to it now after so much rain, cold, and wind.  After all the rain, the hills, fells, and pikes are covered in the bright greens of grasses, the dark greens of trees, and the grays and browns of slate, rocks, and earth.  We are looking forward to our last walking day tomorrow because of the scenery and weather forecast, but wishing it was not the last walk.  I would like to go on walking for at least another week or two, but we are so lucky to be able to this at all I suppose.

She said:

June 2

Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel, Great Langdale Valley

A few last words about our hosts at the Yewdale Hotel in Coniston – Beverley and Peter were definitely the nicest and friendliest people we’ve had as innkeepers.  They are sweet and accommodating and since they are also very well-travelled, we may use them as a resource for future trips.  Our stay at their hotel was perfect.

Yet another day of a taxi ride onward instead of a hike.  We arrived at the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel late morning and settled in to our enormous room with big views to the valley and the hills. We sat in comfortable chairs in front of our tall windows and just looked at the scenery and listened to the birds – for a couple of hours!  Seems we have the relaxing thing down pat.  We did a trial hike (for me) in the afternoon, up the valley floor.  The sun was out in full force and the temp felt like about 70-75.  Blue sky, puffy clouds – really a shocker to us after 10 days of intermittently crappy weather.  This is the optimal hiking that we love.

Out hotel is a National Trust property – old and rambling and stately and lovely.  It’s the only establishment for miles, and also at the confluence of several trailheads, so there is plenty of activity and the courtyard is always full of walkers, families and dogs.  Everyone is beside themselves with happiness over their good fortune to be here in this (finally) glorious weather.  We stopped in our “residents only” bar for a couple of pints and an early supper and were on our own until about halfway through our meal when a party of 14 joined us.  These friends from Cambridge have been coming to this hotel for years.  They were fun and jolly and wrapped us up in their group.  It was a mutual admiration society – we gushed over their great country and they went on about our excellent state (those who had been to CA.)  I was wearing my Obama t-shirt and they also went on about him – they love him and urged us to not let anyone else win the next election.  From their lips to God’s ear.

Since I have now advanced to a cautious “fair-to-good” health-wise, we’re optimistic that we will have a successful hike tomorrow, either from here to Ambleside, or as a circular walk once we arrive at our final Lake District destination, the Rothay Manor.

It’s twilight now and the huge rhododendron bushes (trees!) outside our window are in full bloom – their lavender flowers a perfect counterpoint to the green everywhere.

Pure peace.

Coniston Rest, June 1

He said:

Today was supposed to be a rest day in Coniston, and indeed it was that.

She said:

June 1

Yewdale Hotel, Coniston

Last night, while channel surfing, R and I came upon one of our all-time favorite British shows – one that we’ve searched for on previous trips but hadn’t found in years – SpringWatch.  This crazy show is set in various locations in the UK every Spring.  Several naturalists and video photographers rig mini-cams in every imaginable possible nesting site across the countryside and on nature preserves and record bird courtships, births, feedings and fledges.  It is a fascinating look inside a bit of Nature that we certainly would never normally see.  The show airs for only 3-4 weeks each Spring.  Last night we watched great spotted woodpeckers fledge, herons feed and owls eat their younger, weaker siblings.  Cracking good TV.  Will, of course, watch it again tonight.

Woke this morning hopeful for a health upgrade to a steady “good” but was disappointed as my stupid cold has now lodged firmly in my chest so I’m still at “fair.”  Coughing is plentiful and painful.  Hiking is not an option.  The day is long.

In our effort to stave off boredom, R and I enjoyed a Martin Clunes YouTube marathon: Reggie Perrin, Seasons 1 and 2; Martin Clunes, A Man and His Dogs; Horsepower.  Funny and interesting.

Oddly, even though I’m sick and R is feeling some weird throat stuff (uhoh) and we’re stuck in B&B/inn/hotel room after room, we’re still having a good time.  We’re relaxed, rested and silly.  We’re eating in our rooms and hanging around in comfortable sweats and underwear.  We’re reading and napping.  Really, everything we always wished we would do on vacation but never get around to doing because we’re always on the go.

Love the wisdom of the Cosmos.

Though I’m ready to be well.

(Gray day, intermittent rain.)     

Coniston in the Lake District, May 31

Coniston, and Coniston Water as seen from "the rock"

He said:

We had a quick taxi ride this morning  to our new stay in Coniston, a town on the edge of a lake (Coniston Water), and the edge of the more rugged hills and fells of the southern Lake District.  E stayed in to recover, I took off up the hill to the west to have a look and take some photos.  The weather was cool and partly cloudy to sunny, the sun showed through more than in the past week or longer.  There is the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

She said:

May 31

The King’s Arms, Hawkshead to The Yewdale Hotel, Coniston

by taxi

The most gracious hosts, Peter and Beverley (and their little dog, Millie) welcomed us early to the Yewdale Hotel.  I’m still feeling lousy, but have upgraded myself from poor to solidly in fair.  Lolled around in the room again.  R hiked and shopped for our provisions (expectorant for me – tmi?)  I’m sick to death of this bug and bored out of my mind.  Rallied minimally late afternoon for a walk around town and down to the lakeside.  Lovely.

Cautiously optimistic about a short hike tomorrow.

And, since I’m still in, it is, of course, sunny today.

On to Hawkshead, Lake District, May 30

16th century Hawkshead Church

He said:

Today we were able to jump back into our plan by catching a taxi from Sedbergh to Hawkshead.  We had a nice relaxing stay in Sedbergh at a great B&B.  The day started off with rain and drizzle, but no wind for a change.  We arrived in Hawkshead at noon then spent some time looking around the village and the 16^th century church.  This village is crowded with tourists and families with kids; it seems that this end of the May Bank Holiday also coincides with a 1-2 week break from school.  We haven’t seen this many people since London.  We were tourists ourselves, of course, visiting one tea room of many, and later having soup and bread for lunch at yet another tea room a block away.  The tea rooms are open midday until dinner time, tea time is 4PM, and a "tea" order generally includes sweets, snacks, and clotted cream (halfway between whipped cream and butter), toast, etc...  so it's more than a snack.  Tomorrow, I hope that we can walk to our next village, I’m looking forward to getting back in step with that hidden rhythm that marches on.

She said:

May 30

Summerhill B&B, Sedbergh to The King’s Arms, Hawkshead

by taxi

Woke this morning feeling poor to fair, a vast improvement on yesterday’s and last night’s bad.    I showered and brushed my teeth and took my time doing both.  Two tasks that I do perfunctorily each day became this morning welcome and luxurious – 24 hours of cough drops, night sweats and mucous will do that.

So, I’m among the living again.  Woohoo.

Not to say I’m recovered, far from it.  Still weak and tired and thinking 10 miles of walking in the rain would be a relapse waiting to happen (and, of course, it was drizzling this morning,) so I was happy to take that 45 minute taxi ride past Ambleside and the beautiful Rothay Manor which everyone said was an absolute dream to stay in and arrive at Hawkshead and the King’s Arms Inn of which everyone said Oh yes, the King’s Arms.

The King’s Arms is a classic old English inn and pub (500 years old, in fact) and while that’s quaint as hell it is also small and beery and creaky and loud.  But the bed seems good and the Guinness makes R happy, so here we are for the night.

This is The Lake District.

This is also Beatrix Potter country, though that interests me not one bit.

There is a gorgeous church and churchyard up on the hill that offers spectacular views over the surrounding countryside.  The village’s tiny streets are warren-like and the houses are, well, 500 years old.  Great flowers everywhere.  Excellent tea shops.  And Peter Rabbit on every saleable item you can think of – tea towels, garden tools, neckties, sippy cups, spatulas, t-shirts, aprons, placemats and panties.  (I made the panties part up.)  The place is pretty packed, too – it being a Bank Holiday and kids off from school this week.

We’ve been used to relative solitude on the trails so all these people (families) are freaking us (me) out a bit.

R has gone up the hill to the church with his camera to catch the good light on the hills and the town.  I’m in bed, looking down at the small square.  The day trippers have left.

We didn’t walk today.

And, it’s sunny.  

A snag in the plans, Sedbergh, May 29

Hiking up a Fell (peak) next to a Gill (sharp valley) which were all covered by trees 1000 years ago...

She (weakly) said:

May 29

(Still) Summerhill B&B, Sedbergh

Woke this morning with a weird, virulent cold/flu hybrid.  Completely stuffed up to the point of inner ear off-balance-ness.  R took control, made some calls, rearranged the next few days, and tucked me back into bed.  Slept a million hours.  Just ate some soup.  Ready to sleep a million more.

And, wouldn’t you know it, the sun is shining.

He said:

We had to adapt to the new situation, E stayed in bed, and I went on a day hike up a nearby fell.  The day started off cold windy and raining, but it cleared up in the early afternnon; that was my chance...  So far, I learned that a "fell" is a hilltop peak, a "gill" is a narrow V shaped valley, a "dale" is a wide U shaped valley, a "beck" is a stream or creek, a "tarn" is a small lake or pond.  I also heard that much of England was once wooded, although habitation over the centuries brought down much of the wood for fuel, it turns out that Henry VIII also ordered many of the trees to be cut in order to build war ships, this was especially true in the Yorkshire Dales area.  Now, most of the fells and hilly areas 100 meters higher than the bottom of the dale, are simply covered with grasses of different kinds.

Dent to Sedbergh, a shorter walk, May 28

Horses (Clydesdale mix) and riders near Sedbergh

He said:

Our walk today was shorter than all other days, which was fortunate due to the “floody” conditions on the trail and roads, and E, who has a cold.  Again, today was a cold day with plenty of wind but no rain, at least while we were walking.  Sedbergh, is a small town in Cumbria, but it’s the biggest town we’ve seen since our start in Ilkley.

We were thinking, as we walked, of single words that could be used to describe the walking trail:

muddy, rutty, floody, shxxty, stony, rocky, wetty, rooty, stilely, sheepy, lamby, slippy, and silly!

......

We got into our Sedbergh B&B early in the afternoon so E could get some rest time in a warm room.  Meanwhile, I went out to procure a lunch and later a dinner at a nearby “take away” Chinese restaurant.  Looking back, we’ve walked just under 60 miles in six days, that’s about right, but is probably half of what the typical UK walker would have done.  But, I would rather enjoy the walk, and the sights along the way.  “To each his own”….

She said:

George and Dragon, Dent to Summerhill B&B, Sedbergh

5.5 miles

Today was a short walk and it’s a good thing.  My cold is bad.  Moving from my throat to my chest.  Bummer.

But, no rain for the second day in a row (except for drizzle before we started out today.)  No sun, either, but at least I wasn’t walking in the rain with a cold.  If the scenery wasn’t so beautiful I would feel down right miserable.

There was some challenging terrain today – rooty, rutty, slippery, rocky, muddy and of course, windy.

We ran into Jim and Marilyn, who we met at Nethergill Farm.  They were happily drinking coffee in the window table at a café in Sedbergh, and we almost walked right by them.  We had another nice visit, and if I wasn’t feeling so lousy we would have had dinner with them tonight.  As it is, I’m wrapped up in bed already (coughing) and R will go out to get me some Won Ton Soup from the Chinese take-away shop in the village.

Since there wasn’t much that happened today, I thought I’d write notes about random, English countryside facts:

·         Sheep are born usually as twins, sometimes as triplets and hardly ever as singletons (those who have read our previous blogs know this.)

·         We say “slippery” and the English say “slippy.”

·         We say “blustery” and the English say “blowy.”

·         We passed a couple of farms that had dead moles all in a row skewered on the barbed wire fence – thought this was so cruel until I learned that moles somehow contaminate the roots/grasses where sheep graze, the sheep eat the roots/grasses and die.  Still, quite creepy.

We also saw a couple of crows strung up the same way – don’t know the reason for that but I plan to find out.  Also plan to find out why some countryside houses only have the fronts painted white – is it an economic thing?  Or a tax thing like the more windows you used to have in your house the more you’d get taxed.   (I think I learned that on a tour in Bath.  Some people painted windows on the upstairs fronts of their houses to look rich but to avoid extra taxes – loopholes even then.)

Summerhill B&B is gorgeous and if I felt better I’d be wandering around stealing decorating ideas.

R’s off for the food – I’m still ravenous.  Should be good and porked out by the time I get home.

Sigh.

Out of Yorkshire, Into Cumbria, May 27

Ribblehead Viaduct

He said:

Today, we left Yorkshire behind and entered Cumbria (county).  The good news for today was that it did not rain, although it was chilly and cold and “it” probably wanted to rain, but couldn’t. Perhaps tomorrow.  Overall, our weather has been colder and wetter than usual, that brings a bit of a challenge and makes somewhat bleak scenery, even bleaker. This is gothic weather.  Our walk today topped again over the high moorland, with its many soggy bogs, streams, and spongy spots.  My socks got wet again after just a few minutes walking on sponges.  We walked down into a new dale: Dentdale, getting warmer and lusher as we descended.  Although, the sun made few direct appearances, the sky was full of clouds of many shades, mostly the lighter one.  At the end of today’s walk, my ankles are sore from the uneven ground, 5 days of walking, and that one fall I took, oops.  Our stay tonight is Dent, a small town with a big church, at the start of a “bank holiday weekend”.

She said:

May 27

Ribblehead to Dent

11.5 miles

I’ve been fighting off a cold for a few days now, and last night it got the best of me.  Runny nose, sore throat.  (Luckily, the waterbed was surprisingly comfortable, so I did get some sleep.)  Felt pretty lousy this morning – R even checked the train schedule for me in case I wanted to skip today’s walk and train it to Dent.  But after 4 glasses of OJ, a bowl of Meusli and a scrambled egg on toast, I rallied and decided to power through and walk on.  I also didn’t want to miss the only day, so far, with no rain.  (Hmmmm…maybe I caught a cold from walking four days in a row in the pouring rain?)

Anyway, the day was dry but cold.  The path was very muddy and slick.  We had to climb up and over the moors again (hate the moors) and that stupid wind was howling again.  No sun, plenty of clouds.  Very desolate.  A house every few miles, maybe.  Not liking the walk much today.

This has happened on every other long distance walk we’ve done.  There’s always a stretch in there somewhere that feels more like an endurance test than a swell walk in the countryside.  Just wish I didn’t have a cold on top of it.

Excellent ham and tomato sandwiches, though – our packed lunches from The Station Inn.  I’ve been feeding this cold like a madwoman.

So, here we are tonight at the George and Dragon Hotel in the middle of the village of Dent.  Dent has three, maybe four streets.  The Guest Information says they are sure we will enjoy our stay as they have a “drying room” for our “wet and soggy” clothes.  It also says that “the weather is usually wet 12 months of the year but on some rare occasions the sun does shine…however, for a better forecast, please ask at Reception.”  Well, at least they’re honest.

They also have their own brewery 3 miles down the road (things are looking up) so we’ll probably sample some local brew tonight.

It’s also “Pizza Night” tonight – wonder what Yorkshire pizza tastes like (but not enough to order it.)

Signing off for now as I’m feeling stuffed up and crabby.

Over the Top on the Dales Way, May 26

A male Pheasant near the trail

He said:
May 26

Today, we went over the top and out of Upper Wharfedale, meeting the Pennine Way at around 1800’ elevation.  This is almost upper moorland, but the grass is still green, not brown, maybe because it has started raining again.  At these elevations, there are no shrubs and few trees, just mud, grass, stone, and sky.  Having topped out, we followed the track west down towards Ribblehead and its Viaduct we can see in the distance.  In fact, we are staying at the Station Inn right near the Viaduct, where the train tracks fly over the road.  It was still raining, and we arrived quite drenched but happy for our evenings shelter.

She said:
May 25 and May 26

May 25

Kettlewell to Nethergill Farm

10.5 miles

We started off from Kettlewell after stopping at the (only) local shop to pick up sandwiches for our lunch on the trail.   This store sells everything, from hunk cheese to fresh bread to envelopes to candy bars to wrapping paper to pasta to light bulbs to key chains.  Kites and canned goods.  Laundry soap and jam.  All in a room about half the size of a schoolbus.

We had fine weather – sun, even – and enjoyed and easy day’s walk.

We stopped in Hubberholme to check out the church with the carved mice.  There are, supposedly, 30 mice in this particular church, though I could only find 29.  The mice are about 4-5 inches long, including their tails, and are hiding on pew ends, choir benches and chair legs.  It was an historic, entertaining treasure hunt for me, though I couldn’t tell you anything else about the church as I was sort of obsessed with finding the mice.

We ate our lunch on a bench in the sun in the churchyard, surrounded by gravestones with sweet, sad stories to tell – loving wives, children gone too soon, soldiers buried in faraway lands.  One long-lived family all made it into their 80’s – unusual for the 1700 and 1800’s.

We arrived at Nethergill Farm, a working farm run by Chris (formerly a marketing guy) and Fiona (formerly a graphic designer) who still do a bit of those things on their way to making Nethergill a totally organic, sustainable farm.  It’s a huge task but they are committed and have made great strides.  Fiona served some honey currant (raisin) flapjack biscuit thing for tea that was out of this world.  They also had a real, honest-to-goodness French chardonnay that blew me away and supper (beef and ale stew, perfectly steamed fresh-as-fresh-could-be broccoli, cauliflower and potatoes, butter, butter, butter, killer rolls, apple ad strawberry crumble with heavy cream) was a meal to remember.

Our housemates and dinner mates and breakfast mates were retired Jim and Marilyn, from small town (pop. 5000) Iowa.  Jim had walked the Dales Way before, along with several other English walks, but this was Marilyn’s first walk.  Talk about a good sport.  This is a tough walk, made more so by the “shocking” weather (stole that description from Fiona.)  And, Marilyn had new boots.  She was absolutely delightful, though, and we had great meal conversations with both she and Jim.

May 26

Nethergill Farm to Ribblehead

6.5 miles

Breakfast was another banner meal, then off we went (J and M had a rest day at Nethergill – luckies) for our shortest day of walking so far – to the Station Inn in Ribblehead, 6.5 miles away.

Easier said than done.

Heavily rutted path, fog, rain, mud, more rain, some sun!, then rain, rain, rain.  Some boggy terrain, so our boots were pretty soaked by the time we arrived at the (World Famous!) Station Inn.  A less than stellar accommodation, but a decent shower and a 7 ft. long, always-on radiator that will dry everything nicely before we walk again tomorrow.  From our giant picture window we can see the 1875, 24 arch, ¼ mile viaduct (topped by train tracks) and the driving rain.

The kookiest thing so far is that this room has a waterbed.

Yes, a waterbed.

Not much to say after that.

Walking to Higher Places in Wharfedale, May 25

Stone walls, stone barn across the river Wharfe above Kettlewell

He said:

Access to the internet has been nonexistent in the last 2 days of walking in upper Wharfedale, so we have been delayed in updating our adventures in the blog.  When we did get a connection, it’s been invariably slow, so our photos have also been delayed, as these do take more time to edit and upload.

………….

On May 25, after our day off, we walked from Kettlewell up the River Wharfe to Nethergill Farm.  This day was marked by having our best weather so far; although it was a cool day (cold by CA standards) it was the only day since arriving where it didn’t rain, and we liked that.  For the first 5 miles, the path was almost flat following along a succession of meadows bordering the river.  We saw many sheep and lambs grazing, a few people walking, and we generally enjoyed a slight tailwind.  The river Wharfe itself went from being a fast flowing stream to just a small creek in its upper reaches at Nethergill Farm.  This farm is a working farm, with free grazing animals, and also a 4 star B&B… very comfy to stay in.  Having called ahead, we were able to get and enjoy a home cooked evening meal with another couple we met while walking.  At an elevation of 1200’ to 2500’, the area is boggy and muddy with few trees able to grow, perhaps due to the grazers.  This moorland can seem very lonely, a good place for solitude.  In fact, except for our own company, the surprised sheep, and the occasional partridge or pheasant that burst away, there are few animals seen.

A Full Day in Kettlewell, Tuesday, May 24

He said:

We had a day off from walking here in Kettlewell, time to roam around this small hamlet on the River Wharfe, in Wharfedale, in Yorkshire National Park.  We enjoyed a very civilized and relaxing day, exploring the old stone buildings and church, having a simple lunch in Zarina’s Tea Room, and waiting for that time when our hotel internet connection might actually work.  The owner shuts it off in the evening until 2PM the following day because his workers would otherwise be taking all of his bandwidth…. A likely story, there isn’t much bandwidth in the best of times, and what about the guest’s access?  Our hotel room has a nice view down to the junction of the small roads in the center of the village, we can see the peaceful setting under a stormy sky with clouds flying by over the hills.

She said:

May 24, 2011

A wonderful relaxing day of rest at Racehorses Hotel in Kettlewell.  Rain and a bit of hail this morning, but we were (and are) happily warm and dry in our nice room overlooking a stone bridge and the quaint stone houses of Kettlewell village.

Breakfast this morning was served by our young, Peruvian (!) waitress.

We poked around the village and found the shop we’ll stop at tomorrow morning on our way out of town (for our sandwiches), the Post Office, and an excellent Tea Shop that had a fire going so we sat down and had lunch and tea (R had cappuccino.)  Especially delicious is a cake called a Bakewell Cake that I’d seen in many shops before but had never tried.  It has a dense, buttery crust and is filled with moist cake, some jam and pineapples – all topped off with a thick, sugar icing.  With a pot of tea next to a warm fire – doesn’t get much better than that (except for the foot rub R gave me the other night after our 15 mile trek.)

To Murry, John and Linny:

Many things here in Yorkshire are reminding me of our childhood home in CT –

-          Horse Chestnut trees in beautiful, full bloom.  The flowers are large and fragrant.  The trees are huge and majestic.   I think our tree on Workman Ave. had an owl living in it.

-          Rhubarb grows wild in places here.  I remember taking a Dixie cup with sugar out to the back yard, yanking out a stalk of rhubarb from our plant, dunking it in the sugar and taking a bite.  Do you?  The thought of it makes me salivate, even now.  Sweet and tart together.

-          Peonies.  This morning, in the local village churchyard garden, I came upon red peonies (I took a picture.)  I remember Mommy’s pink peonies along the side of the house.

The church had some interesting stained glass windows.  Two were dedicated to local sons who had died in WWII.  One window had St. George and one soldier, in uniform, beside him.  Another window showed Jesus in the middle, two soldier friends of the deceased on either side, and a folded pile of the dead soldier’s uniform at Jesus’ feet.  All in stained glass.  Weird but moving.  The church graveyards are also always full of the dead from WWI and WWII – those wars must have devastated small villages like these.

We also found a “Thompson Mouse” carved into a wood frame up and away near the front alter.  A guy in the Tea Room (on holiday w/his wife, renting a cottage in the village) was a stone mason who has worked on many of the small village churches in the Dales.  We told him about the mouse and he told us the “Thompson Mouse” legend.  The original Thompson carpenters started carving the mice as a bit of a sweet joke, but the mice are now searched for by many.  This guy had a book on where to find them!  He was thrilled to find others who were interested.  He said the Thompson Furniture Makers still exist, with a huge backlog of ordered furniture as they are known for their fine workmanship, as well as their historic mice.  Now, every church in the Dales we go into, I’ll join those searching for hidden Thompson mice.

Tomorrow we’re off to Nethergill Farm, 11 miles away through the beautiful Yorkshire Dales.  Weather prospects are sunny and clear!

Stormy Weather Walking, Monday, May 23

Suspension bridge above Burnsall

He said (Burnsall to Kettlewell, Monday, May 23):

Rainwind is a weather condition that is often not recognized unless you are out on a high grassy path rather than ensconced in a cozy room.  Today, we learned first hand about Rainwind, before and after that, we learned about  Windwind.  (Rainwind and Windwind are trademarked by RB) ….  Actually, I quite liked the experience, especially when it was over and we made it down to our small hotel in Kettlewell.  The route took us much higher than the river Wharfe, up to the rocky and grassy slopes which are constantly kept trimmed by the sheep.  The gusty wind was fortunately hitting us from the side rather than the front, although it almost toppled me a few times.  At least once the rain ceased, we started to dry quickly.  After pausing for a lunch break behind the shelter of a stone wall, we walked on then being very much chilled by the wind and our break.  Walking down into Kettlewell, we passed through the stiles of many stone walls, being hundreds of years old.

She said:

Good Wi-Fi connection in our room tonight (Monday, May 23,) so I’ll play catch-up and do both yesterday’s and today’s updates.

Yesterday was the first day of walking The Dales Way.  It was long and hard.  We left charming Ben Rhydding in heavy wind and intermittent rain.  Still, it’s always exciting to actually start a long distance walk.  And to have a Day One full of big weather set our tone for perseverance…and humor.  Really, if we could do that day right off, no worries going forward.  (More on that flying out the window when I get to today’s walk.)

Blue sky, sun, clouds, wind, rain.  All of it, all day.

We walked mostly along the River Wharf.  Families of ducks, the babies paddling furiously in the wind and rushing water to keep up with Mom.  Cute and comical.  It being Sunday, we did encounter lots of walkers.  Some particularly large groups had the look of our Sierra Club outings (maybe they were Ramblers?  Our Sierra Club is surely the answer to the UK’s Ramblers, though Ramblers make our Sierra Clubbers look like sissies.  We struggled up a scree field in Ireland in 1995 – R made it; I cowered behind a rock and cried - and at breakfast the following morning we met Sydney and Louise, two 80-something Ramblers who had “rambled” up the same hill, effortlessly and with just good, sturdy walking shoes – no boots.  And they were going to do it again that day – “good exercise.”

Just as we were starving, and just as it began to pour rain (yet again,) we came upon a Quaker meeting house (Farfield Meeting House) - small (15’x20’x12’), old (1689) and, most importantly, dry and open to anyone.  A tiny sign on the door invited us in, and a fact sheet inside taught us all we needed to know.  The wooden seats around the outer edge of the room are original (!) and the simplicity of the house is the key feature, a “theology in stone.”  The Quakers saw no need for symbols and ornamentation.  This would contrast hugely just a few miles away when we came upon the ruins of Bolton Abbey, an 1154 monstrosity raised supposedly to the glory of God but probably more to the glory of the clergy.  Sigh.

It was pretty amazing, though – 14^th century stained glass windows.  14^th century!  The colors were so dense and true and jewel-toned.  A couple of portraits (patrons, no doubt) but mostly simple shapes of circles, diamonds, crosses and flowers.

Passing out of the Bolton Abbey grounds we found a fallen tree covered in coins, each shoved sideways into its bark.  They were all old, but I put my new two cents in (actually, a Washington-head nickel) and as we continued on, the sun came out and we walked and walked and walked to finish our first day at 15 miles.  Sore feet.  Dinner (reliable fish and chips) in the excellent pub at our accommodation, The Red Lion Hotel.  Good sleep.

Which was good, as today was gale force winds (70 mph – shades of the Cornwall Coast) and driving, sideways rain.  (I bow to the gods of REI – with the right clothes I was warm and fairly dry.)  It’s hard to describe so I won’t try.  Suffice to say, it was extreme weather and I felt dramatically, wonderfully, strongly vibrant and alive. We met a couple on the path who have hiked the Dales for 30 years and who gave us good tips for our walk in future days (a country church in Buxton where the carpenter who built the pews and railings carved tiny church mice into the wood here and there and you wouldn’t see them unless you knew to look for them and a high fell where there are still mine (limestone) openings left from the days when workers climbed daily to the top of the Yorkshire Dales to mine and smelt the lime that all farmers used as fertilizer in their soil.)

Then, glorious sun, a flurry of pictures and an easy walk down from the windy ridge to the town of Kettlewell and the Racehorses Hotel, our stay for the next two nights.

We ate downstairs in their classic, cozy pub – pheasant, Guinness and Taylor ale (I am learning that my dreamed-of buttery chardonnay will probably not show itself again until London.  The ale was fantastic.  When I Rome…)

(Watched the news and Obama in Ireland – funny how everyone here loves him and at home he’s sometimes vilified by half the country.  It’s a crazy world.)

Ready for bed.

Fat and happy.

A Long Start to the Dales Way, Sunday, May 22

At the Dales Way starting gate in Ilkley

Happy Birthday Jean!

.................
He said
It’s been a great and dramatic start to our walk; great to finally have started walking in earnest on a rather long distance leg for us (15 miles), and under the drama of the stormy weather; very windy and showery.   Yes, we walked the whole way, but it did take us a while, making for a long day on our feet.  Our path was following the River Wharfe from Ben Rydding, to Addingham, to Bolton Priory (Abbey), to the small village of Burnsall.  Although long, the route today was relatively easy, it was just a gentle uphill path next to the river.  We saw many hikers of all kinds on the trail, perhaps because it was a weekend, and perhaps because of the beauty of this region and the popular Bolton Abbey property.  The Wharfe river valley is gentle and green all over the U shaped sides to the valley it has carved through time; with trees and grasses, both straining under the force of the wind.  The river varied from slow and wide, to narrow, charging and churning through the narrow sections like “The Strid”.  We loved this start to the walk.

Our first full day, a look at the Ilkley town center, and a stone circle on Ilkley Moor

Neolithic Stone Circle, Ilkley Moor

He said:
We got up early to jump on this time zone, and it's working, at least for me.
Our day out was a cloudy one with a very few sunny spells.  We walked down to the town center, running errands and finding the start of the Dales Way.  After buying our groceries for 2 lunches (one for tomorrow) and a dinner, we set off up a steep hill to Ilkley Moor.  There cannot be any dales without the hills and moors.
Once out on the high moors, it was blowing quite a strong wind in our faces.  After finding one of the dozens of possible trails that was the right one (there were no sign posts), we made it to a neolithic stone circle far up at the very lonely top of the hill. Very much worth the trouble.

She said:
What was supposed to be a leisurely day of strolling around the village of Ben Rhydding and the town of Ilkley became, after the "stroll", a two hour straight-uphill, steep hike to the high moors of Ilkley. Very Heathcliff and Cathy, though R thought it very Hound of the Baskervilles.  (I'd hiked on a moor before, in Ireland, in the rain and the wind; I remember the rain actually blowing sideways.  This was my frame of reference.  Bummer.)  Did some whining, but the big pay-off was the standing stone circle at the top.  Spectacular.  Easy to picture those wacky neolithic goofballs choosing that spot - the highest point and when the weather was foul it must have seemed like the opening to the heavens (or hell.)  I love that kind of stuff and walked around the circle, touching each stone and marvelling at their age and my good fortune to be there.  Eerie and exciting.
Brisk walk down; dinner in; mediocre white wine (Gallo, from Tesco); crazy Brit TV.
A pretty perfect day.

We made it to Ben Rhydding, Ilkley

He said:
I'm relieved that we have made it through the long transfer to the starting point of our walk.  We arrived last evening, Friday, after car, plane, train, walk, underground, walk, train, and train intervals.  The sky is gray today, with a chance of rain later, and we plan to do a day hike up to Ilkley moor.  We also want to look around the small town of Ilkley, buy some cards, and scout out where our path starts tomorrow.  I hope the prediction of the end of the world will not happen today (May 21) as advertised, life is good.
Lucky us to have a working wifi connection in our room this morning.

She said:

Big, fat, long flight from SFO to London – bad airplane white wine (two bottles!) – slept well.

Uneventful train ride from London to Leeds (1^st Class – woohoo!)

Leeds to Ilkley – small train to the end of the line.  We exited at the wrong train station but luckily, the train stayed in the station long enough for us to re-board and re-track.

Good travel serendipity as we met happy though tired grandparents who were minding their three grandchildren for the weekend.  Lovely family – the grandparents had taken the kids for tea by train.  The boys (Charles, 3 and George, 2) and the sweetest little girl (their cousin Camilla, 3 – honest!) were chatty and friendly and covered in chocolate.  Grandfather had worked in the Bay Area at one time, knew Palo Alto and had very fond memories of Sausalito.  He gave us good directions to our excellent accommodations for the next two days, The Wheatley Arms.  Camilla loved us and waved vigorously as we departed the train in Ben Rhydding. 

The Wheatley Arms is a welcoming inn – done to a very high standard.   We settled into our room then settled into the bar and enjoyed a delicious dinner of organic, locally sourced food.  R had his predictable Guinness and I was also my predictable self in ordering bad white wine (two glasses!)  R reminds me about the definition of insanity and I resolved to try the local ales going forward (though I am always hopeful of the dry, buttery chardonnay.  Sigh.)

A local family came in after their 8 (9?) year old son’s cricket match.  He was dressed adorably in his cricket “whites” and when asked if his team had won he gamely answered that they’d come in second!  Such a civilized way to report a loss.

Yet again, we are reminded that we live in the center of the universe as even though we don’t have chips in our credit cards like the Brits do (a little backward for being from the heart of Silicon Valley) we come from the home of Facebook so we are instant celebrities.

What a world.

Slept well, though only 5 hours. 

Up and out this morning – a bit of exploring around the village.

Our walk starts in earnest tomorrow.     

Preparing to Blast Off

A somewhat leisurely day as we do final prep for our trip. Very civilized flight time - this early evening - arriving tomorrow in London.
Cheerio and Pip Pip (Pippa?)

preparing for the walk

We've been taking hikes on weekends to prepare for the walking trip. This year, we are walking the Dales Way national trail in the Yorkshire Dales area, then off to a walking circuit in the southern region of the Lake District. Our recent cool, breezy days in the Bay Area have prepared us for the unpredictable, but often cool and wet weather of England.
I'm looking forward to the tasty beer.
cheers

Looking Forward to a country walk

On the Dales Way, and through the Lake District.