MASHAM IN THE DALES
But we are going Norther, Masham bound now- we'd been making some pretty frantic phone calls to friends to find somewhere to stay once we reached our Northern reaches and it looked distinctly like we were going to have no inn for the night. We actually wound up with 3 options but settled upon Bee's in Masham as it was most close to our morning destination, and Bee's a diamond and because Jon's got a new baby so we may have been a bit disruptive in Leeds, and Simon had his phone on silent.

Masham is a beautiful village in North Yorks (pron. Mass 'um- if you say Mash 'em they'll know for sure that you are a whatless tourist)- just beyond Scotch Corner- why is it called that?- its on the edge of the Yorkshire dales and we arrived by surprise, thinking we must still be miles off.......

Bee and her daughter and Bee's boyfriend were up to greet us- we'd narrowly missed the younger two girls- who had been sporting, we are told, a pair of heels and a handbag to greet the 'theatricals' from London but they'd been sent to bed whilst we were faffing around in M&S (trying to find wine and dinner for to present to Bee in thanks), so we, sadly, missed the performance/actor's debate that was planned for our arrival

Service stations don't sell alcohol which seemed a bit rubbish at that moment when we needed a present for Bee. But, on reflection it's understandable- isn't it.

We got handsomely fed, despite the late hour and basked in our great sense of achievement at having managed to get to the North- it had seemed that morning like we may never have got out of Middlesex. We slept in the loft up the crazy loft ladder- which is the steepest climb imaginable but very cosy when you arrive. And we went to sleep, absolutely exhausted wearing glowstick bracelets which Bee had provided us with as we went up to turn in.....Bee makes pottery in Masham she's very good and a truly lovely lass http://www.beetaylor.com/

Masham's a nice village and the primary school teachers are the most glamorous on a Tuesday morning that we have ever seen.
We drank a lot of coffee and were then back in the van again clutching a hand-written map to get to our next place of intense interest.

HACKFALL WOODS
We were headed up the road to Hackfall- which Simon Scott had recommended when we blew out his kind offer of lodging in Leeds the previous evening and which William Wordsworth recommended in his guide for tourists, in the 18^th Century.
Hackfall Woods are on the Moors close to Masham and Grewelthorpe- they are a grade 1 listed garden- the woods are full of odd Victorian follies dotted around a green and pleasant valley. http://www.hackfall.org.uk/. Bee said there is a coloured lake there, she couldn't remember what colour, but we didn't find it due to some footwear issues- and we can't find any reference to it when we go a-googling. Extra points for pictures of you arranged around it!

What we did see though, were beautiful tranquil hills and an autumnal valley through the woods, and follies, some bulls and quite a lot of muddy paths. It was at this point that the assistants realised the importance of task appropriate clothing.

The assistants had packed in a hurry, and had clearly left their respective houses with quite wrong footwear to say the least. We did have a pair of wellies with us- but they were quite incidentally packed as they had looked like a good costume a few days previous to setting off. The other footwear we collectively sported was a pair of furry wellies- Australians would call them slippers- they're very fashionable in west London and completely inappropriate for walking around muddy follies- and for most tasks really. Ugg boots, whichever way you look at them are actually nightwear and no-one relishes turning up on a muddy walk in jim-jams.

Things we found out in hackfall:
The Victorians made stuff up. And going for a muddy walk in slippers is folly.

Recommended: songs about rivers on the walk down.