Train to Darlington through extremely wet countryside — the Ouse at York well over the Ings and the riverside footpaths and every stream and small river north wards full to overflowing. At times the train on its embankment was crossing lakes, from which at intervals sprouted the tops of fences, or trees, or a half-submerged shed. Bus from Darlington to Richmond — confusingly altered to pass Darlington station in the reverse direction (where there is no bus shelter). At Richmond a quick change to a local bus through dripping countryside and flooded lanes to Ravensworth, a village set round a large green with at the top a magnificently ruined and jagged castle. No shop, and the pub not open yet (still only 11.30) so off up the 1 in 4 road masquerading as a stream bed to Kirby Hill. True to its name, there was a large parish church in a very commanding position atop a ridge, overlooking a magnificent series of hills and valleys to the North. Behind the Church cluster cottages and farms round a small green, off the through road. More of this in a subsequent blog, I hope. A fine pub, but also closed because it was Monday. A quick sally on the faithful Brompton to the villages on either side showed picturesque wetness, more stream/roads and one other closed pub. Must come back when it’s not Monday. And so back to Richmond — the ford I’d been warned about now thankfully only an inch or two deep. Richmond seemed to have at least one excellent butcher, at which I bought an excellent haggis.
The rain, which had mostly kept off all day, fell heavily on the b us to Darlington, but that was OK.
