Though normally supportive of meteorologists and the weather people they plonk on television, yesterday I could have slaughtered them all. They told me that it was going to be a nice day with sunny intervals but it wasn't. It was grey and overcast.
Even as I drove north from Sheffield, I expected the clouds to part with the golden orb shining down upon Mother Earth, ready to illuminate the images I was about to capture on my Pennine walk. Clint was humming as we left The Woodhead Pass behind, cruising along the winding A6024 to the remote upland village of Holme which, in 2014, witnessed the Tour de France cycling race firsthand. I had never been there before.
What a joy to park in the cobbled centre of Holme with no parking restrictions whatsoever. No yellow lines. No ticket machines. No parking enforcement officers prowling around like the wartime Gestapo. If only it was always like that. I left Clint within touching distance of a cute Italian vehicle. Her livery was banana yellow.
"Get your boots on and get out of here!" Clint slyly whispered.
The Fiat 500 was fluttering her headlights at him in a flirtatious manner.
I really didn't want to watch what might or might not have happened between them as I set off along Issues Road towards the moors. Issues Road was no more than a farm track. Just as the village of Holme is solidly built of local stone so were the surrounding drystone walls. Miles of them crisscrossing the hills and valleysides before giving way to the wild moors that divide Yorkshire from a mysterious region of the country called Lancashire. "There be dragons" as old maps used to say.
Abandoned Greaves Head Farm
I saw a couple of abandoned farms - victims of reservoir projects in the early twentieth century. I also stopped to take pictures of a couple of common ravens and I encountered a thin woman from the south east of England with a dog called Dotty. The way that personal information poured out of this woman's mouth, she might also have been called Dotty for all I know. She had never been to Yorkshire before.
The word "dotty" means "eccentric or slightly mad". The place name of that particular "Holme" is derived from the Old English "holegn" which means holly. Normally the suffix "holme" is derived from the Scandinavian word "holmr" which means island - often applied to settlements that sit on higher ground above marshy land. This is a legacy of our Viking heritage here in northern England.
"Play a different record will you man!" said Clint as we drove away.
The Italian lassie was long gone.
Last Of The Summer Wine country? Well not that far away. Smashing photos.ReplyDelete
It is indeed "LOTSW" country Compo! Just 2.5 miles from Holmfirth.Delete
Holme is Norse for an island or islet. Is there an Iceland store near by?Delete
I dealt with the origins of "Holme" in this blogpost. Folk in that part of Yorkshire only eat home-cooking from scratch. No foreign muck like pizzas, kebabs and curry. Just meat and three veg with gravy and Yorkshire puddings of course.Delete
The overcast skies rather add to the atmosphere, YP, - as always excellent photos. Did you perchance exchange a few words with the horse?ReplyDelete
Yes. I said, "This is a public right of way! Nobody wants a big horse blocking their way so shift Dobbin!"Delete
Dotty? When I first came to England I started watching "East Enders", till I stopped. Dot Cotton my favourite character. She smoked for England and a few chimneys. Her observations as dry as only the dotty manage. Dorothy Parker eat your heart out.ReplyDelete
Ha-ha! I used to bee a big EastEnders fan but I gave it up in 2013 - like giving up an addiction. I have not seen a single episode since then. Dot Cotton was a great character - brilliantly played by June Brown.Delete
I'll have to show this post to our niece and nephew...their last name is Holme, maybe their dad's family was originally from that village!ReplyDelete
To confuse matters, there is a village in East Yorkshire called Holme-on-Spalding-Moor. By the way, I was in Barlow the other day - please do not misinterpret this remark. No offence intended.Delete
As long as you enjoyed your time inside Barlow, I won't complain! haha.Delete
Holme village is a great place for those who don't like gardening. Someone I know who lives there said that the only thing that grows in his garden is raspberries, so that's all he grows.ReplyDelete
He must be a lazy devil. I saw tomatoes growing there and courgettes too. Mind you Holme is a pretty bleak place and gardening there must be challenging.Delete
Ah yes, Scandanavian remants from the raping and pillaging. The good old days:) Although I suppose raping and pillaging carry on to this day.ReplyDelete
The photos are lovely. I see you lot have those windmills as well. The creep me out a little, although the more I see them, the less creepy they are. Not sure why I feel that way about them. In Southern Alberta there are a lot of them. It's a very windy place down there.
I do not like those windmills either but if they help to reduce our reliance on fossil fuels then I shall tolerate them.Delete
Cobbles are not great for cycling over.ReplyDelete
Do you prefer ramblers?Delete
I think that meteorology is much like medicine- part science, part art, part sheer luck. Too many variables to always be completely accurate.ReplyDelete
That description belongs in a dictionary.Delete
A good walk and a history of a word.ReplyDelete
Thanks for coming along Red.Delete
I love each and every picture on this post and am - rather untypical for me - most drawn to the one with the horse. It would have looked only half as good against a clear blue sky in plain sunshine.ReplyDelete
As for the windmills someone else commented on, I was pleased to spot them in one of the pictures.
The horse was blocking the path. I agree with you that that particular picture looks better with the moody sky.Delete
Lovely going on a walk led by you and like Librarian am most drawn to the horse photo.ReplyDelete
If the horse had been Mr Ed, he might have said, "I am the guardian of the path. Thou shalt not pass".Delete
Horses can be surprisingly bad tempered at times, worse than a charge from the bull who's mythical appearance in the shape of a sign 'Beware of the Bull' challenges us.Delete
I am always wary of horses Thelma. You cannot reason with them.Delete
I think "dotty" is such a great word. Our weather has been hit-or-miss too.ReplyDelete