Rain, rain, go away!

Last night we basked in the luxury of a lovely B&B in Keld, population 24, and dined there with a British couple touring the Pennines in their Morgan, a young S. Cal. couple (stunt woman and tennis instructor; she had blisters--not us!), and 2 Dutchmen hiking the Pennines. 

This morning we set off walking along the banks of Swale

river, a path of verdant grasses, pinks, bluebells, and even white masses of leeks (you know by the smell).  

This is James Herriot land and if you watched the PBS series or read his books, you'd know you were there. These Yorkshire Dales (goodbye Lake District) are fields of the greenest grass, masses of golden buttercups, populated by Swalesdale sheep ( and their poop), sectioned by dry stone walls, of which England boasts 125,000 miles. We squeeze through breaks in the walls just big enough for us, but not if we keep eating the ploughman's breakfasts. 

As we walked on a bridge over a babbling brook, surrounded by moss laden trees and intertwining vines, Vinny told us that if we believed, this was the spot of fairies. 

New friends-Brits, Kay, Emma& Vinny, arrived just when we needed confirmation of our direction (we are blessed) & we walked until tea time with them, Vinny treating us to our first tea & fruitcake with local cheese (odd but tasty) at a tea room. 

Then our Canadians came upon us, happy to see us ( whew-  they have a GPS) and we walked and talked the rest of the trek to Reeth, the Capitol of Swalesdale, one of the nicest villages, but we're too tired to explore--in bed at 7:00. Another lovely B&B! 

Although we walked in 7 hours of rain, high winds, and sleet, our hearts were warm by our walking companions.

Keld marked the halfway point!  We've walked 82 miles and taxied for 26. Last night at dinner the Dutchmen suggested trying rail transport. We may!