Tags
camomile lawn, cricket, Derbyshire Dales, East Riddlesdon Hall, Mytholmroyd, National Trust, Olympic Games, pomander, rag rugs, Roberts Park, Shipley, Shipley Glen Cable Tramway, Shipley Moor, Stafford, Yorkshire
Least said, soonest mended about last Friday, August 19th. Prevented in March by ill-health from visiting friends in and on the way to Yorkshire, I had arranged to retrieve the situation last weekend. What should have been five hours’ driving time turned out to be eight hours’. Sheer volume of holiday traffic, accidents, road works, I heard the lot on my car radio’s traffic alerts.
Anyway, it was lovely to arrive at last at Hazel and John’s house in Shipley, where they had kindly waited the evening meal despite my request that they didn’t, and we started catching up on news. I was at primary and secondary school with Hazel a very, very long time ago, and each of us has spent long periods living abroad. Hazel has daughters and grandchildren in Canada, and they are at charmingly interesting ages.
Saturday morning I drove over via some spectacular scenery to Mytholmroyd. These pictures do only scant justice due to poor weather and difficulty finding places to stop the car.
I spent a couple of hours with my very old – in both senses and he won’t mind my saying so – friend Brian, and also met Marley for the first time. Here they are.
In the afternoon, back in Shipley, I was only too pleased to succumb to the rain and stay in. Moreover, I have never found the Olympic Games as interesting as I have this year, and I was pleased to find that H and J were also happy to have the TV on to watch some of the penultimate day’s activity.
The following day we made up for our idleness. I’m always pleased to use my life membership of the National Trust, and East Riddlesden Hall is only a very short distance from Shipley.
Apologies for the quality of some of the following photos. I had forgotten to pack my camera for the weekend, so these were taken on my tablet, which is fine in good light, but in the dim light inside the house it was struggling at times.
John trying his hand at rag rug-making
Hazel examining one of the many old cures scattered around the place.
Yes, that does say ‘Dead Toad’. Another said ‘Vulpine (grated fox). Rub on chest to cure a cold’
Learning about pomanders
Congratulating ourselves on dodging the showers, we wandered around outside to admire the structure of the building and the gardens.
Camomile lawn in the making
After lunch we drove to Shipley Moor, and walked down the side of the tramway, the only remaining part of the old pleasure gardens. Into the park,
where we were able to enjoy a variety of traditional municipal and other activities.
Here’s a British tradition that might have died in Bradford but for the town’s Asian immigrants
No steep walk back up to the car for us. We took the tramway. I felt utterly ashamed of myself when I enquired about concessionary prices, so paying just 50p for each of us, so was very pleased when John pointed out a collection box for the voluntary body that runs the trip. I posted the balance between that fare and the pre-retirement age adult rate!
A lovely drive back via another very elevated beauty spot.
Monday morning, time to return home south, via Stafford to have lunch with my former work colleague Ellie. I decided to avoid the motorways, at least for this first half of the journey home, and was quite mind-blown at the grandeur of the Derbyshire Dales, just frustrated that it impossible to record it in the very thick drizzle. 
The sheep didn’t seem bothered though.
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