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