Above: Malham CoveToday we set off from Film Farm in bright sunshine, our hopes high at the prospect of visiting the renowned Gordale Scar.
Things went swimmingly until we realised that the AA routing through Leeds/Bradford/Huddersfield area was not the easiest or the most scenic. Charles however successfully ignored the problem by chattering away gaily about this and that. Just before Junction 24 Libby (who as well as being the chief researcher is also the chauffeur) happened to enquire which exit she was looking for '25, must be the next one' - but of course it wasn't - the next junction was 23 and for some unknown reason we carried on to junction 22 before retracing our steps. The rain started to fall, increasing in volume as we neared our destination, and somewhere near Kirkby Malham we appeared to enter a black hole, where each signpost indicated that the distance to Malham increased in inverse proportion to the actual proximity. We finally arrived at the River House Hotel, placed the piles of equipment bags in the rooms, and set out with minimal equipment for a recce.
But first, a quick bite - c/o The Old Barn Cafe, a tiny place where muddy boots are always welcome and serving excellent home made soup, cakes and sandwiches - recommended.
Thence our walk to Malham Cove and over the top where the limestone pavement forms strange abstract shapes, divided by narrow gullies, and polished silky smooth - a trifle scary for Libby who hasn't the best sense of balance and does not wish to have a second hip replacement any time soon. Across the fields and on to Gordale Scar, a natural feature which awed the romantic poets and artists. Oddly enough we weren't as stunned as we expected to be by the ancient limestone gorge and waterfall. Or at least not until one of the two rock climbers who were busily abseiling at the precise point where the best viewpoint of the waterfall could be gained, happened to start showering rock on our intrepid filmmaker. Terrified of breaking his Super 8 camera (with which we film period looking shots of each location) he stumbled on the wet rocks and fell, tearing his trousers but luckily saving said camera in the process.
Why the climbers were allowed in that spot in the first instance, and why they are allowed to break the fabric of this 15-16 million year old natural feature defeats me. Answers on a postcard (or email would suffice).
We carried on, bruised and battered and exceedingly wet, were delighted by Janet's Foss, a fairy dell worthy of a Shakespearean setting, and finally returned to Malham where a cuppa, c/o The Old Barn of course, slightly revived the senses.
Charles, obviously never a Boy Scout, was sartorially unprepared and apparently had to dry his trousers with a hair dryer in order to appear for the evening meal! He'd have rued not drying them, because dinner at River House Hotel was superbly cooked, and incredibly good value. The rooms were clean but could be improved by some revamping - but the food - in another league altogether. Again, highly recommended.
Things went swimmingly until we realised that the AA routing through Leeds/Bradford/Huddersfield area was not the easiest or the most scenic. Charles however successfully ignored the problem by chattering away gaily about this and that. Just before Junction 24 Libby (who as well as being the chief researcher is also the chauffeur) happened to enquire which exit she was looking for '25, must be the next one' - but of course it wasn't - the next junction was 23 and for some unknown reason we carried on to junction 22 before retracing our steps. The rain started to fall, increasing in volume as we neared our destination, and somewhere near Kirkby Malham we appeared to enter a black hole, where each signpost indicated that the distance to Malham increased in inverse proportion to the actual proximity. We finally arrived at the River House Hotel, placed the piles of equipment bags in the rooms, and set out with minimal equipment for a recce.
But first, a quick bite - c/o The Old Barn Cafe, a tiny place where muddy boots are always welcome and serving excellent home made soup, cakes and sandwiches - recommended.
Thence our walk to Malham Cove and over the top where the limestone pavement forms strange abstract shapes, divided by narrow gullies, and polished silky smooth - a trifle scary for Libby who hasn't the best sense of balance and does not wish to have a second hip replacement any time soon. Across the fields and on to Gordale Scar, a natural feature which awed the romantic poets and artists. Oddly enough we weren't as stunned as we expected to be by the ancient limestone gorge and waterfall. Or at least not until one of the two rock climbers who were busily abseiling at the precise point where the best viewpoint of the waterfall could be gained, happened to start showering rock on our intrepid filmmaker. Terrified of breaking his Super 8 camera (with which we film period looking shots of each location) he stumbled on the wet rocks and fell, tearing his trousers but luckily saving said camera in the process.
Why the climbers were allowed in that spot in the first instance, and why they are allowed to break the fabric of this 15-16 million year old natural feature defeats me. Answers on a postcard (or email would suffice).
We carried on, bruised and battered and exceedingly wet, were delighted by Janet's Foss, a fairy dell worthy of a Shakespearean setting, and finally returned to Malham where a cuppa, c/o The Old Barn of course, slightly revived the senses.
Charles, obviously never a Boy Scout, was sartorially unprepared and apparently had to dry his trousers with a hair dryer in order to appear for the evening meal! He'd have rued not drying them, because dinner at River House Hotel was superbly cooked, and incredibly good value. The rooms were clean but could be improved by some revamping - but the food - in another league altogether. Again, highly recommended.
Left: Limestone pavement aka Moore sculptures atop Malham Cove.
Right: Libby finding the right direction in life
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