Mark awoke at 7:00 AM GMT which is 1:00 AM Omaha time. After making his coffee, he logged on to the NYT site and depression set in. The NYT site was not yet finalized but the Orange felon was in the lead, and it seemed likely that both the Senate and the House were turning Republican. By the time Deb came downstairs, it was mostly over. Now there were two depressed foreigners, moaning in their morning coffee. Deb was alternately sobbing and ranting. Too early to start firing off emails to her friends and family, we sank even further into our depressions. What are we going home to? How could our countrymen choose a convicted felon over a lucid, well-spoken female? Where is the sense? Where is the outrage?
Eventually we talked ourselves into getting dressed and heading out into the day. We can’t change anything; we cannot even change our airline flights as the tickets we bought were non-changeable and non-refundable. After Mark prepared a full English breakfast, this time with beans, we finished our coffee annd climbed into our Nissan to go out to greet the day.
Our travels took us first to the village of Reeth, where we made the purchase of our annual 2025 calendar to hang on our kitchen wall. then we stopped at the village information center and picked up a book on the Yorkshire Dales. We visited with the two ladies on staff - both were afraid to bring up our election, but when we did, they quickly said “What were your countrymen thinking?” Their concern was for the rest of the world, not just us. We discussed NATO, the ladies’ objection to BREXIT and the rightward turn towards isolationism throughout the globe. It was refreshing to learn that not the entire world was bonkers!
Next we wandered out behind the building and found ourselves in The Reeth Community Orchard; a small garden area with apple trees, some wonderful benches upon which to rest, a neat lawn and some cuddly hedgehog wood sculptures. Very peaceful; it reminded us of our small garden on Pierce Street and all we are trying to do there. Slowly and erratically our spirits are lifting.
Next stop is over the moor and up to Tan Hill Pub for our annual visit. This is the highest pub in Britain at 1,782 feet above sea level. We stopped for a cider and glass of Tan Hill Bitter Ale and read some about the pub. No one knows how long the pub has been there, but the roads along the top of this moor have been traveled for at least 5,000 years! By this time it was nearing 3:30 PM and we decided to point our vehicle back towards Askrigg and home. It was a lovely drive and we arrived home around 4:40. We poured a glass of wine and reviewed the emails that were now arriving from friends and family. First to contact us was Abby. She and Deb cried together until the phone line apparently got soggy and dropped. It was so good to have contact with the good parts of our life. Darcy’s text comment to Deb’s concern: “The most badass thing you can do now is enjoy yourself cuz goddammit they cannot take our joy” Words to endure with.
This evening we had reservations at the King’s Arms Pub for dinner, a short walk along the main road. We arrived, ordered a glass of wine and picked a steak pie with mashed potatoes and gravy side, for Deb, and a Burger and chips for Mark. The meals were delicious and we split a wonderful Eton Mess for dessert. We walked back to our lodging, started a fire in the firebox, watched a little TV and read. Our depression still lingered but we realized that friends and family were more important in the long run than an Orange Felon intent upon his tantrums.
Thursday morning we were again awake by 7:00. We showered and enjoyed the last of our scones with some jam and our coffee. Today we had a plan to head again south to try and see an area we had not yet spent any time in. We drove first to Leyburn and refueled the Nissan and then set off towards Middleham and eventually Masham. From there, we turned west and headed for the village of Lofthouse. We passed some wonderful scenery, rolling moors and steep dales. On top of the moors we passed by Leighton reservoir and then up into the clouds which had lowered to the top of the moors, producing a very foggy landscape.
We dropped down towards Lofthouse and the Nidder river, and then into How Stern Gorge. At the gorge we found a lovely coffee shop nestled into the gorge amidst some cabins. The area is renowned for its cliff climbing and caving. We dined on another burger and a tasty roast squash soup, accompanied by some Old Moot Cider and a cup of coffee. On the advice of our server, we headed toward the Scar House Reservoir, so named because you can still see some of the remains of the old town AND the small temporary workers village on the edge of the reservoir. Absolutely stunning scenery which we had not seen before. We then journeyed westerly towards Grassington and up to Kettlewell. Turning north we followed Wharfedale up through Bishopdale and into Aysgarth. All of these valleys (Wharfedale, Coverdale, Bishopdale, Nidderdale, Swaledale, etc.) are named for the rivers that run through them, hence the rivers, Wharfe, Cover, Bishop, Nidder & Swale. The only exception is the famous Wensleydale which was created by the River Ure. Deb supposes that Uredale is a weird name for a beautiful valley. So it is named for the village of Wensley but is most famous for its Wensleydale Cheese. After much driving and consideration this trip, we have decided that Swaledale is still the most beautiful dale in the park.
We reached Askrigg just at sundown, set up in our snug cottage and lit a fire. We had intended to go out for the evening meal, but as we had gotten a late start and a late afternoon lunch, we instead feasted on cheese and crackers and read while watching some really bad House Hunters episodes. Deb retired early and Mark read until around 11:00. We are both reading the new Louise Penny and even she is not cheering us up but we had a lovely day, enjoying the countryside and each other.
