Went up to Castle Black over the weekend for a journey beyond The Wall into The Yorkshire Dales and Clapham. It was chilly - seems winter hasn't left the north yet.
On the way we met up with No.1 daughter and her husband for lunch on Saturday at The Sparrowhawk in Fence. I was acting the fool and for some reason put the little chip basket my chips were served in on my head for a second or two. A little later the waiter came to get our order for some more drinks and I thought he was looking at me strangely. I felt my hair and found an errant chip fragment nestled in my bonce, which was obviously what he was staring at. Hay thought I should have added a couple of kebabs on my ears in a simulation of northern jewellery.
Clapham is a gorgeous little village and one of our favourite get-away haunts. More than half the village is still owned by the squire and the properties are rented out to incomers, but they must have children and send them to the local school. It's an attempt to keep the village alive. There's a great sense of community spirit.
On Saturday night we went to a little pub called The Old Hall Inn in Chapel le Dale. The owner is a pastry chef who in a former life specialised in sugar. Here are a few of his creations, which are scattered around the pace on display.
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