Our second visit to Tarn House Holiday Park, just outside Skipton. It's an ok site, mostly full of statics and seasonal tourers, but with a few touring pitches. Facilities are just about ok. Its main attraction is its closeness to Skipton.
A Saturday start, D had to work on the Friday. Roll on retirement! The journey seemed to take ages once we were off the motorway, and it's hard to overtake slow moving traffic with a caravan attached!
We eventually arrived and were allocated pitch no. 15. Of course we didn't read any of the literature given to us by the lady on reception until after we had set everything up, which is when we realised the caravan was pointing the wrong way! Oh well, nobody seemed to mind.
We thought Skipton on a Saturday night would be a bit busy, so instead we drove to Bolton Abbey. We parked at Barden Bridge and got a bus back to Bolton Bridge, then walked back to the car along the river Wharfe.
We got back to the site about 8pm, had dinner and showers and then walked up to the onsite bar. The conversation didn't stop when we walked in but it is typical of onsite bars, with all the static owners sitting in groups. The lodge owners looking down on the static owners who were looking down on the seasonal tourers who were looking down on...us! No campers for us to look down on. We just had one drink.
Sunday
In the morning we drove to nearby Embsay reservoir for a short walk up Embsay crag.
Looking down on Embsay reservoir
In the afternoon we walked into Skipton and spent the rest of the day drinking! There are some nice pubs in Skipton, our favourite was one right on the canal...not sure what it is called. More of a cafe than a pub, but a great selection of real ales. The Narrowboat and the Woolly Sheep are nice, too.
Fred Trueman
Monday
A much better journey home, but no Archers to listen to.
Coming soon...
Back to Cumbria...Ravenglass...D's favourite site.
1 comment:
the writing given to us by the woman on gathering until after we had set everything up, Write My Economics Homework which is the point at which we understood the train was pointing the incorrect way.
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