Signpost; BW means Bridleway; FP means footpath |
My in-laws, Spousal Unit, my sister and her husband |
Following a hearty breakfast at Elm Cottage (a self-catering cottage means a talented chef known as Spousal Unit can prepare a delectable feast of his choosing), we were exhilarated with another blue-sky day, ideal for a walk to the village of Kettlewell.
It is believed that the name Kettlewell is Anglo Saxon and comes from Cetel Wella, which means a bubbling spring or stream. At first, the footpath clings to the River Wharfe.
Soon enough, meadows push in and open the vista.
We are grateful for the shade when the footpath joins up with a fencerow, where the oak trees stand in formation like an army of tin soldiers. I wonder about the landowner those many years ago, deciding to sow the young oaks in this majestic panorama.
As we enter the village, we are mafting (read: hot) and there's little choice but to seek out
refreshment in the beer garden of The Racehorses Hotel.
refreshment in the beer garden of The Racehorses Hotel.
Have you ever tasted Pimm's? Pimm's No. 1 is a gin-based liquor made in England from dry gin, liqueur, fruit juices and spices. It was invented in 1823 by James Pimm, who served it at his oyster bar in London. A thirst-quenching, supremely summery drink, Pimm's Cup mixes lemony soda (or ginger ale), fruit, cucumbers, mint and a fortifying shot of Pimm's. I first met Pimm's (the drink) at the school Field Day during our expatriate assignment in the UK (yes, there was alcohol at a school event). I have been a fan ever since. So refreshing!
Temptation? To linger in the beer garden, sipping Pimm's. But the splendor of the countryside beckons, and we return to the footpath. One of our many rewards is the flora soaking up energy 'while the sun shines.'
That evening, we easily found our appetites at The Crown in Hawes.
This pub has a distinctive beer garden with an upper level offering an unparalleled outlook on the dale.
I couldn't defy the urge to snap pictures in the beer garden and on the street as we strolled back to the car - I wish everyone would be as meticulous with their gardens!
Summer nights are a treasure ... they go on forever! Once we returned to the cottage, I had the occasion to burn off my risotto on another footpath nearby.
England. Footpaths. Sunshine. Flowers. Pubs. I belong here.
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