Another Fine Day in the English Countryside (Showing Off "a Small Island" - Part 4)

England.  Footpaths.  Sunshine.  Flowers.  Pubs.  Which one of these does not belong?  Some days, you get it all!  Come along and see, in Part 4 of my series featuring our tour for my sister and her husband this summer.

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.

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. 

Linking to

Floral Friday Fotos

Mosaic Monday

Our World Tuesday

Guardrails Not Required - Oughtershaw, UK (Showing Off "a Small Island" - Part 2)

Imagine a stretch of tarmac wide enough for one-and-a-half cars.  Now visualize that one side of the tarmac drops away sharply to the dale (read: valley) below.  Then add in the realization that there is no guardrail.  This, my friends, is the road over the Yorkshire Dales to the village of Oughtershaw.  It is also white-knuckle riding for those with a fear of heights (me), and the reason I don’t possess pictures of said road. I can offer plentiful shots of the village, so that will have to do!

This is the second part in my series highlighting the visit of my sister and brother-in-law to the UK.  Upon our arrival at Elm Cottage, we treated them to another fine British tradition – the summer barbecue, in which the food is cooked outside but can’t possibly be consumed outside because it’s 1) raining, 2) windy, 3) freezing, or 4) all of the above. 

Nevermind, while the cooking was underway, I kept myself warm by walking about the cottage and snapping pix.  

After our meal, we were ready to stretch our legs, and the four of us headed out for a meander while my in-laws (such kind souls) did the washing up (read: washed the dishes).

It was a misty evening, and brought to mind scenes from Wuthering Heights  and The Hound of the Baskervilles.  

Nevertheless, there were no sightings of Heathcliff, or a hound, or a car.  Good thing, too, since the roads did not get any wider in the village!

 

Instead, we got some of the classics: drooping tree branches coated with moss, sheep that are at once skittish and curious, and a plethora of plants making their residence on cottages and the ubiquitous dry stone walls.  And this was just the start of our Yorkshire adventure. (A relieved note of gratitude to Spousal Unit for his driving - not only was he maneuvering through the narrow lanes, he did it in a manual car!)

Linking to Our World Tuesday