Another first - we never go away at this time of the year to the UK as the major clubs ramp up their profiteering, sorry, I mean prices, to unbelievable levels. That said, with Covid and a new van, we felt that we had to get away again, so on Wed 21 Jul we drove the 2 hour journey to Clumber Park to start our mini tour north.
Clumber Park site was packed. It was pretty horrible in fact, and this is one of our favourite quiet sites. Lots of feral kids racing around, noisy dogs, people wandering across the pitch with no concept of social distancing or space. It's not the caravan club's fault - they do their best to keep everyone Covid-safe, but some people........ Anyway, we had a quick wander to see if we could find any phone reception before settling down in the van with a nice bottle of Zell Riesling to try and drown out the noise of bloody annoying, ill-trained, dogs and their equally ill-trained owners.
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| Cosy |
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| The entrance to Clumber Park |
On Wednesday we unloaded the bikes from the garage(!) and went for a 5 mile ride around Clumber Park, stopping for a massive ice-cream and then back for dinner, just missing the rain. It's strange that the National Trust were limiting vehicle access to the estate to pre-booked parties, but all the footpaths and cycle routes were open so you could get in anyway.
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| Looking for Robin Hood |
The following day we departed Clumber Park for the site at Hebden Bridge, which is actually just outside Mytholmroyd (we never did master how to pronounce this tongue-twister). We walked in the pouring rain from the site to Hebden Bridge to collect a massive box that she had ordered from Boots. The box (containing a hairdryer) was the size of a coffin. We duly carted it back to the station and, nervously, trained it the one stop to Mytholmroyd, our first time on public transport since Covid struck.
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| Hebden Bridge |
On Friday - O rarity! The sun! It was July after all and one can only expect rain up North in these months, so it was a pleasant surprise. We cycled into Hebden Bridge along a track, bimbled around this pleasant town and bought sweets, a pork pie and and an ice-cream, then cycled back along the tow path. We stopped en-route at the Shoulder of Mutton pub for our first pub pint since lockdown. This happened to be the first day that masks were made compulsory in shops and other enclosed public spaces (but not pubs).
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| Hebden Old Packhorse Bridge |
On Saturday normal service was resumed. It rained...and rained. We spent the morning dossing in the van with no TV reception and little phone/internet (it is the grim north after all). In the afternoon we walked up the hill to the Robin Hood Pub, but didn't go in as it looked like social distancing didn't really feature here. Back to the van, a nice bottle of Rioja and listened to some music - that's how we roll on a Saturday night.
We met up with our friends from Brighouse on Sunday for a socially distanced drink in the local park. It was really lovely to see them all, but as soon as we got back to the van the heavens opened once again and it was bloody cold at 13 degrees. More like autumn than mid-summer.
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| Eey Oop - where's tha' clogs? |
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| Jane & Tavis trying to look nonchalant |
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| A freezing cold picnic |
Monday saw us moving up country to claim our sticker for an overnight stop in Lancashire. Another county bagged. Clitheroe Camping and Caravanning Club site is a very pleasant site and must be lovely if ever it stopped raining. On the way, through Todmorden, we spotted a sign for a public weighbridge and for a bargain £3 had the van and axles weighed and found we were well within limits. The dreaded weighbridge is always a nervous time. I wonder how people with a max plated weight of 3.5 tonnes get on with this model though? Acres of storage and no weight allowance to use it. Anyway, back to Clitheroe - we walked into town, got wet, came back for pie and chips and set the heating to pretend it was summer.
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| Clitheroe Camping and Caravanning Club Site |
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| Edisford Bridge over the River Ribble |
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| Soaked |
Tuesday we had a late start, walked into Clitheroe again, up and around the Castle, got wet, had lunch in the brewery, walked back, got wet again and I tripped over a fence. Nothing to do with the beer I might add.
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| Clitheroe Castle |
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| Pendle Hill from the Castle |
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| Clitheroe Castle |
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Marker on the Lancashire Witches Walk - a 52 mile trail celebrating 400 years since the Witch Trials of 1612
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| Eee - 'tis grim Oop North |
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Clitheroe
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| Soaked yet again |
The next day was dry(ish) for a change. We drove to the Caravan Club site in Wharfedale in the Yorkshire Dales, another site that has no phone or TV reception. I wonder why the Caravan Club doesn't have free wi-fi like the camping club? We bought the caravan club wi-fi. It was shite! £30 a year for a useless wi-fi access. What a rip-off. Anyway, we walked into Threshfield and found a nice Spar shop which sold delicious cakes.
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| ...but much drier in Yorkshire |
Thursday was meant to be nice. It rained. We walked into Grassington, which is a very pleasant little place, and had a couple of pints of Black Sheep in a nice pub, then an ice-cream and a walk back to the site.
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| River Wharfe |
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| The Square, Grassington |
Friday was due to be hot and sunny. It was. We decided to stay for another day in the hope of having just one day of warm sun in the grim north. The first and last day of Yorkshire summer had arrived. However.......all was not well. A bit of a medical emergency arose and we had to sprint back home, stopping in Keighley for fuel. We definitely do not want to stop in Keighley again - we felt very worried as there appeared to be no awareness whatsoever of the dangers of Covid. Scary.
In all, a very wet few days away. Nice to see old friends, nice to test the van for waterproofing, good to claim another county, an unwelcome test of emergency procedures but, boy, it's grim up north.
