IF YOU GO, GO SLOW

DIANNE STEWART connect with a place, its culture and people, instead of just giving them a superficial glance.

After hours in a foggy car, viewing sheep in emerald fields demarcated by Iron Age dry stone walls, we arrive at a small town in the Yorkshire Dales. The wind almost takes my breath away as we leave the car park, and we’re hit by a torrential downpour that blows umbrellas inside out.

We take shelter in a coffee shop, where I am reminded of the debate about whether the jam or cream should be put on the scone first. In this Yorkshire village, the Cornish are victorious over Devon dwellers, as towers of scone, jam and then cream are steered into expectant mouths.

The owner of our country hotel requires a minimum three-night booking . “No one-night stands here,” she says, tartly. Nesting down in a spacious converted barn, we hear silence sweep through the hills and dales.

As we take an evening walk through the farmer’s fields, plump pheasants catch the light as the sun starts its early winter descent.

Walking around Harrogate the next day, we pass Jamie Oliver’s Italian restaurant before seeing an exhibition that examines Yorkshire’s impact on art.

Slow Travel is reminiscent of bygone eras. Nostalgically, I recall those Union Castle Line voyages from Southampton to South Africa and back, where the journey was an integral part of the travel experience.

TS Eliot summarised it well: “The journey not the arrival matters.”

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