Good morning. I got to lounge around a little bit because today was short. Including a couple of wrong turns, it was still 8.7 miles. Woohoo!
My breakfast is included daily, so today, I ordered a bacon butty. Since I read a lot and watch a fair amount of British TV, I had heard the term Butty, but I wasn’t sure what it was. The bacon was not like our crisp bacon, but very lean bacon, sliced and served on a buttered bun. It was delicious. It had an optional sauce similar to Henry Bain with a slight vinegar aftertaste.
Gargrave was a beautiful village that was clearly affluent but keeping with the old English style.
A beautiful English tea room. Trudy! This is just for you - right up your alley.
The local pharmacy.
British loyalism.
We have one way roads, but do we have one-way systems?
Oh Janet, look at this gorgeous horse; he had furry legs you can’t see for the grass. He was magnificent to watch.
This is the area of magnificent manors.
Got a chuckle out of this man herding sheep, not on horseback but on a four-wheeler. Gotta keep in step with the times.
I have definitely worked out my knees on these step-ups, but this is the first one with a gate at the top.
Usually, I am not nervous around cows, but this one had a newborn calf nearby. She wasn’t a problem.
A door for Mary Popham.
I made a wrong turn and went about a half-hour straight up the mountain, pant-pant, gasp-gasp so then I had to go back down. The cool part was that I stopped at this residence to read a poem on the wall. This English gentleman came out and told me it was written by a young English girl from the village. I wasn’t sorry that I had climbed to the top of a mountain to see this.
Malhamdale Poem
O how I love thee, dear old Malhamdale!
With thy sequestered nooks and lovely vale,
Adorned by curious rocks and shady dells,
Fine waterfalls and rugged, high-peaked fells,
That lavishly display in many a part
The richest beauty of nature’s art
In thee, old Malhamdale.
Thou dost at every season of the year,
In sunshine bright, and wintry storms severe,
Present to my admiring eyes a face
That’s unsurpassed in beauty and in grace.
For, though I wander other sights to see,
Yet find I none that can compare with thee,
Romantic Malhamdale.
For, in the joyous and reviving spring,
What dale is there that can surpass thee in
The charms which budding tree and freshening field
And springing flower in rich abundance yield?
As nature fair arouses out of sleep,
And with consummate skill makes thee complete
In beauty, Malhamdale.
And when the soft and genial summer’s air
Brings into bloom thy flowers of beauty rare,
They with thy new-borne stream and rocks unite
In making thee a wonder and delight,
While birds, which sport so joyously at play
Raise happy songs that drive dull care away
From thee, bright Malhamdale.
Or when the cold and searching autumn’s breeze
Blights the fair flowers, and strips the dark green trees
Of all their leaves, which once were bright and gay
But now are left to wither and decay.
Although thou art of such great charm bereft,
I love thee still for there is beauty left
In thee, fair Malhamdale.
I love to see thee clad in garments fair
Which winter brings and spreads o’er thee with care.
As though to shield thy beauties from the cold,
She doth thee in pure white snow enfold,
And render thee more picturesque and grand,
While wonderingly at Windy Pike I stand
To view thee, sweet Malhamdale.
I live to view thee in the daylight clear,
And when the calm grey twilight hours appear,
Or when the moon sheds forth her mellow light
To cheer and grace the shadows of the night.
No matter when or where I gaze on thee,
Nought can I find but rich sublimity
In thee, my native dale.
Written by Betty Chester (Nee Banks)
at Windy Pike, Hanlith in her 18th year, 1881.
On the house, it says shooting barn.
The shooting barn.
I stayed at the Beck Hall, which has a history of several centuries. It was uilt in 1705 as a yeoman's cottage, it became a wayfarers' hostel in the 1930s, under the ownership of Mr. Hardacre, an adventurous explorer. The property was kept within the Boatwright family for several generations before being acquired by Andy and Louise Macbeth in 2014. They transformed it into a dog-friendly hotel, now known as the Beck Hall Hotel. (Mostly copied from the hotel info.) It is the first Vegan Hotel in England.
I ordered the White Bean Cacciatore, which was mixed with white beans, capers, black olives, tomato ragu, whipped tahini drizzle, and puffed chickpeas, served with garlic ciabatta. It was accompanied by a salad with a light lemony dressing. This was great! All vegan. If I could have this level of vegan food, I could easily be a vegan. I rarely clean my plate, but this was so good I couldn’t quit eating.
So I have a hard day tomorrow.
Good night and God bless.
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