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June/July 2003 |
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Haworth is a village in Yorkshire, and the former home of the Bronte sisters; their home, Haworth Parsonage, is now a museum dedicated to their memory. It features in The Eyre Affair as the place from whence Acheron Hades stole the manuscript of Jane Eyre.
Present were; me, my wife Claire, our dogs - Bob and Mia, Dave, his small son Eddie, Rob, Sarah (plus Wilfred the cross-eyed penguin and Dido the dodo), Skiffle and PSD. Several of us had met before, but not all at once, so it was good to make new acquaintances and renew old ones. We all met up at Keighley railway station on time, and got on the steam train to Haworth. The dogs and Eddie traveled free, and Eddie at least enjoyed the trip no end, hanging out of the window like a proper train buff.
Once we arrived at Haworth, we decided to be bold and walk up the hill, and after a bit of asking the locals found Haworth Old Hall, where we had a table reserved in the beer garden. The beer was very good, and so was the food (I had a very palatable shoulder of lamb); two people who shall be nameless succumbed to temptation and had dessert. Dinner passed with only minor wind-related spillages, and photos were taken, conversation flowed freely, and PSD held Eddie upside down for a bit. They both seemed to enjoy this.
Then we wended our way up the hill and most of us (excluding Claire, the dogs, Dave and Eddie) went round the Bronte Museum. I tried to work out where Acheron did the dirty deed, and we were all disgusted to find that TEA was not on sale in the Museum shop. Boo. Once back outside Sarah (who was looking very elegant, by the way, in white and maroon ... the rest of us were our normal scruffy selves) and Skiffle went on a rampage round the many book and craft shops on Haworth Main Street, while the rowdy element (the rest of us) sat outside the Fleece and drank beer. (Well, Eddie didn't drink beer. He ate raisins).
After a time we foregathered again, to discover that (shock horror) Skiffle hadn't bought any pony books, though she did get some nice items including a clock made from an old Beatles record, and also some very nice liqorice and aniseed sweets called 'Poor Bens', which seemed appropriate. Then ho once more for the Hogwarts Express ... no, sorry, wrong author .. the Worth Valley Railway. The ride passed all too quickly, and at last we had to part in the less than exotic surroundings of Keighley station. Sarah once more handed round the Thornton's Dark Chocolate assortment she had very kindly brought along, and some of us got chocolate all over our faces.
It was a good day out, although I would have enjoyed it more if my hearing had been better; if I didn't reply to anybody's witty remarks, I wasn't being rude, honest, just stone deaf.
The Prosecution's Photographic Evidence |
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