RECOMMENDATION FOR A BANK HOLIDAY
Ugh, bank holidays. My childhood recollection of English bank holidays is being stuck on the A64 in an endless line of traffic trying to get to Scarborough. My parents would get more and more bad tempered while my sister and I squabbled in the back seat. We’d eventually give up just before York, and would turn round and come home again.
As an adult there was no way on earth I was going to repeat that experience, and with similar memories of his own, my husband was in full agreement. So instead we would get up disgustingly early, meet up with some friends and go for a long walk in the Yorkshire Dales followed by lunch and a pint in a country pub. Much more pleasant.
Which is is why my choice today is a book of Dales walks. So grab your hiking boots and join me for a walk in one of the most beautiful places on earth. And when we're done, we'll go to the pub and I'll buy you a beer.