A three hour trip west from Yorkshire to the Lakes District. Does it require a separate blog post? Perhaps - if I throw in a few travel observations. For the non-traffic engineers, you can skip over the boring bits.
We check out of the Lower Pigsty on the dot of 10am. No need to hurry - we've got all day. We generally don't try and fit in a major activity when we're between BnBs - not enough time, and we don't like leaving the car loaded with all our possessions for too long. The thought of the car being broken into doesn't bear thinking about.
As usual, Pauline has found some back roads that would bring a smile to any adventure motorcyclist, perhaps apart from the lack of gravel.
This one's in Oxnop Scar on the Santon Moor, between Askrigg and Gunnerside. Still doesn't mean much? You'll have to check it out on Google Maps - but suffice to say we're still in the Yorkshire Dales National Park region.
We're enroute to the Aysgarth Falls before lunch - three broad limestone steps on the River Ure, spread over several hundred metres We visit the Upper and Middle Falls, but decide to skip the Lower.
The river water appears quite brown as it flows over the limestone ledges. I initially thought that it was some sort of staining from the moor rocks and vegetation, but sadly it's the same problem that afflicts NZ rivers - high turbidity linked to agricultural inputs and sewage overflow events.
The Yore Mill sits just below the Upper Falls, powered by water via a stone race and wheel. Originally built as a cotton mill, it transitioned to a corn mill and wool spinning (including uniforms for Garibaldi’s army). The water wheel was replaced by turbines in the 1930s for ongoing flour production, but now everything is in a state of disrepair. Looks like it'll be redeveloped into holiday apartments, but good if they could get the turbines spinning again for some local electricity generation. And no, it's too historically and environmentally sensitive to turn this area into a hydro lake, though the thought did cross my mind.
On to Hawes for lunch, and in the Tramp Abroad's ongoing search for the world's finest cheeses we spend half an hour at the Wensleydale Creamery. The toothpick samples aren't as generous as back home so we have to accidentally spear two at once to get a decent sample. We exit with a Kit Calvert Old-Style Wensleydale and a Wensleydale Blue. Looking forward to cheese and crackers tomorrow.
The odd objet d'art is also making its way into our suitcases in the form of tea towels. Our old ones at home are getting a bit tatty, and who doesn't want a continual reminder of trip highlights when settling back into normality?
The Blacksmiths Arms to book Thursday night's dinner is the final stop before our destination - Janet's Broughton Mills cottage at Lind End. Located on a working hill farm with cattle and sheep in the Lake District National Park, this place feels just right. Not sure about the satellite reception though.
Now we've got to figure out what to do with six days in the Lakes District. Bashing some balls around might get a look-in.
Driving in England
The little FWD Yaris isn't a great car to drive. Its 1500cc 3-cylinder engine and CVT transmission is rough and noisy, but with its hybrid battery it has good torque off the line and is fine for the narrow back roads. It shows its limitations on the larger and high speed A roads, but we rarely take those. Compared to the Atto it's uncomfortable and unrefined, but one saving grace is that Apple Carplay works seamlessly, so we have navigation on the central screen. Its transmission has a B (Braking) mode as well as a D (Drive) mode which makes it feel more like the Atto through regen braking. Handy for downhills and slow roads. It'll do for three weeks, but I'd never choose to own one. Give me a full EV any day.
We're getting about 57mpg (miles per gallon for the youngsters) from our hybrid engine. Yes, Brits still use miles for road distances. They half‑completed metrication in the 1970s, then stopped - and roads were the one area politicians refused to convert due to cost and public pressure. Distances are in miles and yards, speeds in mph, and everything else is metric. Fuel consumption is still in mpg even though gallons disappeared years ago. And 57mpg? That's about 5L/100km - pretty damn good. I remember as a kid learning:
- 20mpg - my Dad's Chrysler Valiant - thirsty
- 30mpg - pretty good
- 40mpg - so frugal it's gutless.
57mpg would be off the scale!
The cost of petrol is high, though. The UK doesn't have a 91 octane fuel - the lowest is 95, which costs about £1.70/litre. That's around $3.90, whereas the price in NZ is more like $3.20. We may grumble about the price of fuel in NZ, but it's certainly higher here.
And talking about the price of fuel in NZ, I'm disappointed the Fuel Excise Duty increase scheduled to kick in next year has been watered down. First Labour said they wouldn't increase it for three years, then for political expediency National fell into line with a delayed implementation supplemented by a taxpayer-funded rainy‑day fund to cover the shortfall. So now we have increasing pressure on road maintenance, public transport funding, safety projects, and new transport infrastructure. Just as bad, keeping the cost of petrol low reduces the incentive to decarbonise, and EV drivers who pay RUC are disproportionally affected. It all smacks of short term-ism from our major parties, with no long term goal in mind.
I'm generalising, but compared to NZ's aggressive and impatient drivers, Brits are courteous and accommodating. Part of it are ingrained Brit qualities - manners, restraint, and quiet cooperation. Roads are narrow and heavily trafficked, so slowing down or stopping for a safe pass happens frequently. Brits expect this and factor extra time into journey planning. Vulnerable road users are well treated - pedestrians, cyclists and equestrians are given a wide berth at slow speed, and a friendly wave. Compare that with the generally boorish behaviour we experience on kiwi roads.
Infrastructure plays an important part too. Particularly in London, cyclists and pedestrians have well-designed separated or shared infrastructure, and safe crossings. London's congestion charges have also kept a lot of traffic out of the city centre, which makes makes walking cycling and scootering much more pleasant. There are frequent stands of hire bikes, and people in everyday clothes riding everywhere without helmets as the environment just feels safer. There's still a downside - pollution is high, especially from diesel vehicles. EVs haven't made much of an impact yet, but their time will come.
The Brits love their roundabouts. Every 5km or so there's another one, and it can take some luck and skill picking the right approach lane. They make sense - in a densely populated country with multi-leg intersections and roughly equal leg flows they much more efficient than traffic lights.
Road maintenance is on a par with NZ. There are potholes, slumping, tar bleed, and traffic signs so faded you can barely read them. Edge markers are few and far between too, as are approaching curve signs, and there are no advisory speeds for curves. You're expected to work it out for yourself. In rare cases you'll actually get a speed enforcement sign for a hazardous curve.
A couple of things we could take on in NZ - when approaching solid no overtaking lines there are curved arrows directing you back to the correct side of the road, and pedestrian crossings have zigzag edge markers indicating both no stopping and no overtaking. Both effective traffic control devices as they're highly visual.
But perhaps the best thing about driving in England is the place names. When you've got a Celtic - Roman - Anglo‑Saxon - Norse - Norman - modern English heritage there's a huge variety of naming. Today we went past Ingleby Greenhow, Great Busby, Sexhow, Potto, Askrigg, Danby Wiske, Preston under Scar, and Aysgarth. The Viking influence in Yorkshire is particularly apparent.
Sexhow? It's derived from Old Norse sexhou or sekkshaughr which means the hill of Sekk, a personal name. Population 20. Read into that what you will. As an additional snippet, a legendary dragon that plagued the village is described in a folk tale as the Worm of Sexhow. The Worm was described as being a beast that would feed on dairy and breathe out fire to burn farmers' crops. One day an unknown knight came into the village, slew the dragon, and rode out again. The beast's scaly skin was displayed inside nearby Hutton Rudby church until it was destroyed during the English Civil War.
I'm pleased we don't have a dragon like this in the Waikato. It would grow rather fat, and I haven't seen any dragon-slaying knights around lately.
Next observations on supermarkets and the cost of living. But a bit more experience to acquire first.
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