Miles today: a mere 81, but almost all of it on high moorland roads - magic!
Distance from where we started today as crow flies: about 35!
Miles so far: 2510
Where are we: not far from where we set off this morning, but allegedly we have crossed into Lancashire - but that is disputed! More of that later...
Number of cream teas: just 1 today, but we suspect it could be our 5th or 6th of the trip. We now do cream tea instead of lunch. If I haven't put on weight it will be a miracle.
So lets start with ... are we in Lancashire or Yorkshire? Without looking it up on good old google, the bar staff have a much better story. Basically those that were born in Yorkshire are claiming it for the white rose, but anyone local from Lancashire says it is in red rose county. I haven't met anyone born in the pub so not sure what they would say. Something to do with ancient borders (which put it in Yorkshire) but current local administrative is Lancastrian. I like a good dispute. And we all know that Lancashire and Yorkshire both think they are the greatest place on the planet, so maybe if we ply enough staff with booze tonight we can promote some fisticuffs!
No picture of the Yorkshire/Lancashire border dispute so a shot of where we have been riding will have to do. It’s been like this just about all day.
Right, so while I am on a roll, I’ve been reflecting on why Lockerbie appears not to acknowledge in any very public way the terroist atrocity that took place over its skies in 1988. And, given this is mostly a brain dump, if I have been thinking, it usually finds its way into these pages.
Basically, I dont know, but it feels kind of odd. The only reason we found the memorial to those that died on the ground on an out of the way residential street, was a chat with a woman tending her husband’s grave at the cemetery. She didn’t know why either but she was there when the incident took place and remembers the whole community pulling together to support each other and to provide support for victims’ families afterwards. So I just don't get it. The Garden of Remembrance is tucked away in a corner of the cemetery well out of the town and the centre of the town appears not to mention it at all. Perhaps all the more surprising as I assume a significant number of the victims, probably most, were American and am surprised the families of the bereaved or even the state has not wanted to mark it more obviously. Or perhaps the low key is exactly what the victims‘ families wanted. I dont know, but if you are ever in the area, find the cemetery and the memorial to the local victims (both of which can be found on google maps) and spend a few minutes or so reflecting on a dreadful act of terrorism that had a profound effect on the world. Though over 30 years ago, the impact still resonates and I was glad we had found the time to stop - and been told of and found the elusive memorial to the local victims.
Haven’t even started on today’s journey, and really don't want to be doing this at midnight again so ... having booked into see Richmond Castle at 10am, the delightful Tracy at the Black Lion had allowed us to keep a room to change in to bike gear after a short stroll around the market town and the castle. Fabulous morning, warm, sunny and of course in the current circumstances almost deserted. We are making the most of our English Heritage membership - we even used them in Scotland, by turning on the charm and using our authentic Scottish accents! Not really, they are accepted in most Scottish locations too!
We had decided to put off the moment we need to drive through the major conurbations of the north (getting through Huddersfield and Halifax on the way up had put us off avoiding the motorways), by the simple tactic of driving round in circles in the Yorkshire Dales. But by doing so we actually achieved some of the best driving of the entire trip. From Richmond we headed up to Tan Hill, Britian’s highest pub, which brings a whole new meaning to the middle of nowhere. Not a pub you could include on a pub crawl, it being miles and miles from anywhere. But what a view! And a friendly welcome - and I am forced to admit we had coffee and cake! Again
From there, refueled (cake not petrol) we headed south which basically crosses the dales, which mostly run east/west. That meant up and down, round a lot of bends, through Keld, Hawes and over the Buttertubbs Pass to Ribblehead Viaduct, where my suspicion it is bigger than Glenfinnan was confirmed.
A brief stop at Wain Wath Falls on the Swale (probably) gave us yet another silly photo op.
From there to Malham Cove, where we stripped to our underwear in the car park, so we could walk to the cove in the comfort of shorts (not just our underwear). We are getting used to this so look out for more inappropriate public exposure in the future. Thankfully no selfie was taken! - until we had our shorts on anyway!
Finally we crossed the border from Yorkshire to Lancashire (or did we?) to spend the night in another pub with rooms. Tough this!
We are slowly preparing ourselves for the inevitable heading home. We will I suspect blast past Manchester on the M6 to get it over with but then we plan to head down the middle of Wales. There are some good roads there to make the journey south more palatable.
Only 80 odd miles today but somehow it feels like more. Hardly an A road touched, but I think we will make up for that tomorrow.
Comments