One of my favourite places in the west riding of Yorkshire. As a brownie I spent a pack holiday in the youth hostel ( sadly no longer there) . We wandered the moors and spent our pocket money in the town, below the moor.
Then, I returned with my own daughter and introduced her to its magic.
Thanks for bringing back wonderful memories with this post. Sue.
Your pictures are magical…just like the place. x
You are already ‘on’ the moor once you reach the hotel… that is the beauty of the place for a weekend such as this. Good food, ale and wine, comfortable rooms and you have only to cross Hangingstone Lane to be on Rombald’s Moor. When the heather is still in flower on your doorstep and the sharp scent of bracken hangs in the air, there is nowhere like it.
By the time we finally arrived, our companions for the weekend had begun to gather. We found them at ‘our’ table in the gardens of the hotel from where we could sit and look at the Cow and Calf. As others would soon be joining us, I didn’t set foot on the moor itself that day. Perhaps that was the problem; I usually manage enough time to greet the stones and feel that unique spring in the earth beneath my feet…
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