Haworth and the Moors
Haworth is a tiny village whose claim to fame is that Anne, Emily and Charlotte Brontë lived most of their short lives there. The village itself, perched precariously on a steep hill, hasn't changed much in the past two centuries, other than renaming everything from the Indian restaurant to the dry cleaners after its famous threesome (and improving its standard of living so that 40% of its residents no longer die in childhood, as was the case when the Brontës moved into town).
The Haworth Youth Hostel is located a mile from the village in a lovely Victorian building fringed by snowdrops and daffodils.
The narrow main street of Haworth.
The afternoon I arrived was gloriously sunny, so I took a walk up to Peniston Crag, which afforded this view towards Ilkley Moor in the distance.
The moor itself, in all its heathered glory.
Just in case you wondered what differentiates moor from ordinary farmland, here they are juxtaposed.
One of the various reservoirs that dot the landscape around Haworth.
Charlotte Brontë married shortly before her death (the only Brontë child to do so; incidentally, she was pregnant at the time of her death at the age of 39), to a curate in a neighboring parish. She would walk along this walled path to visit him.
The parsonage where the three Brontë sisters lived with their father Patrick (who outlived them all, as well as his wife, his son Branwell, and his two older daughters, Maria and Elizabeth, who died at a school which inspired Charlotte's depiction of Lowood in Jane Eyre). On the left is a school where the girls taught at various times; the church in the background has been rebuilt since the Brontës' time, though the tower is original. All of the Brontës are buried in the church, except for Anne, whose last wish was to visit Scarborough on the Yorkshire coast, where she died.
The parsonage has been restored to its Brontëan state in great detail. Fortunately much of the house's contents were purchased by village residents upon Patrick Brontë's demise, and because of this remained in the area. Thus the house contains Emily's piano and the sofa on which she died, as well as the family's grandfather clock, many of their books, samplers completed by all the sisters, a selection of Branwell's paintings, Charlotte's amazingly intricate watercolours, and large numbers of the tiny books detailing the imaginary worlds created by the siblings in childhood. The exhibition also featured some of the early reviews of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, which were considered quite scandalous works upon their initial appearance.
Truly Brontëan moors.
Brontë Creek, on the way to Top Withins.
Brontë Falls above Brontë Creek, crossed by Brontë Bridge, the chair-shaped rock next to which is Brontë Seat. One would think they would get a bit more creative...
Top Withins, a ruined farmhouse whose isolated location is popularly supposed to be an inspiration for the title dwelling in Wuthering Heights.
A closer view of Top Withins.
A view of the moors from Top Withins.
The crowded churchyard at Haworth, containing the most depressing tombstone tales of family woe I have ever encountered.
York
York has preserved an amazing amount of its medieval heritage, including nearly intact city walls and gates. Its most impressive structure is without doubt York Minster, a colossal cathedral containing both the oldest intact and the largest medieval stained glass windows in Britain (the former of which, the Five Sisters, is my favorite -- an abstract design of green leaves, with one pictorial insert of a rondel from an even older window). The crypt was mostly flooded when I was there, but I did get to see the first part, from which a rather creepy statue by Anthony Gormley of a pensive skeletal figure was visible knee-deep in water (and purposely so -- it was designed with the crypt's frequent flooding in mind).
A view over the city of York from the top of York Minster's tower.
Clifford's Tower, the last remnant of a medieval castle built by William the Conqueror. Parts of the castle were later incorporated into the town's prison, the remains of which have since been converted into the York Castle Museum. This museum houses materials relating to popular culture (when I was there it had special displays on the surprisingly fascinating history of cleaning and on birth, marriage and death through the ages). It also features examples of typical rooms dating from the 1500s to the 1980s, as well as an entire Edwardian street.
The interior of Clifford's Tower. The burn marks still visible are from when a group of soldiers blew off the roof in a bout of drunken revelry in the 1600s.
A view of York Minster from the city walls. The viewing platform at the top of the tower is just visible. Only one tiny spiral staircase leads to the top, so access is limited to the first five minutes after every hour, since one has to come down the same way one goes up. The staircase seems to go on forever, creating the illusion that one isn't moving at all, and is not for the claustrophobic.
York Minster from the front. The stained glass window is known as the Heart of Yorkshire due to the design of its tracery.
Whitby and Robin Hood's Bay
Whitby is a small fishing town on the North Yorkshire coast that is testimony to the ability of the British to make a seaside resort anywhere there's ocean. It is also known as as the setting for several key scenes in Bram Stoker's Dracula, and features some of the best fish and chips in England.
Whitby's harbour is located at the mouth of the river Esk.
Two lighthouses look out over the North Sea, from which Vikings frequently invaded in the town's early history.
Another view of the harbor and the seaside esplanade.
The town of Whitby.
The ruins of Whitby Abbey. Built in the 13th and 14th centuries as part of a monastery complex constructed on the site of a still older monastery and nunnery, it lost a wall to a 18th-century storm and a transept to German bombs. After his dissolution of the monasteries, Henry VIII gave the abbey and its surrounding area to one of his favorites, who built a mansion nearby.
The monastery stands on an exposed (and very windy) spot on the cliffs, overlooking the sea (and at the top of the famed 99 steps).
A view of sea and cliffs from the abbey ruins.
Another view of Whitby village, looking inland.
I took a great hike along the cliff path from Whitby to Robin Hood's Bay. The only downside was I had to tie down everything I was carrying to prevent it being carried over the cliff by the strong wind, and at times was in danger of being carried over myself.
The farmland runs right to the cliff's edge.
Another view of the impressive cliffs.
Several stretches of the path were diverted because of recent cliff falls, including one that left this fence stranded in midair.
The tiny fishing village of Robin Hood's Bay. A centre for smuggling, it is said that secret passages connect the cellars of many of its houses. The sea wall was built in the 1970s to prevent more of the village from falling into the sea. In one incident in the 1600s, half the main street and several dozen houses were lost.
The beach at Robin Hood's Bay.
Low tide left uncovered a large expanse of seaweed-streaked rock.
The entrance to Boggle Hole, a mill creek that runs to the sea, visited by several characters in A. S. Byatt's Possession.
The old mill at Boggle Hole has been converted into a youth hostel.
The path along the cliff from Boggle Hole to Robin Hood's Bay.
Differences in density in the cliffs' rock layers cause these distinctive rock formations just under the surface of the water, known as "scars".
A view of Robin Hood's Bay from the direction of Boggle Hole. The cottages beetling o'er the brow of the sea constitute the original Elizabethan village; the houses in the background were built by wealthy fishermen during the Victorian era.
A closer view of the scars (scroll right).
Both the houses in the foreground date to the 16th century, as do many of the houses in the village.
The north section of town consists of houses built practically on top of each other, separated by streets no wider than sidewalks which often double as staircases. This is one of the broader and flatter streets in the area.
Back to Whitby, the view from my creepily empty hostel.
