Carlisle Day 2 aka A visit to Leeds

 May 25th.  Woke to fine and sunny but not too warm

This apartment has double glazing at the back so there’s little to no noise in the lounge and kitchen.  But the front, where the bedrooms are is only single glazing - probably because of planning restrictions - and last night the noise from a karaoke bar down stairs was Loud and not tuneful. It took me all of 30 minutes to realise why two sets of ear plugs were among the amenities provided in my room.  They worked.  I slept.

I’m liking this apartment in Carlisle.  Instead of the usual individually wrapped cookie biscuits they left crumpets, butter and jam so for breakfast today we had toasted crumpets.  Yum. 

Then we set off for the three minute walk to the station.  I wanted to check our tickets since I’d asked for Carlisle to Leeds return and the ticket only said Carlisle to Settle.   The same official was at the ticket window and he remembered serving us yesterday.  All apologies he reissued the tickets, gave helpful instructions as to what to do at Leeds Station and we were on our way.

Carlisle Station is also known as Carlisle Citadel and has a curved wall on the far side, reminiscent of a citadel wall but is actually named after the former medieval fortress.  Compared to our railway stations in New Zealand, the whole building had a strange eerie feeling.  Very high to the ceiling which was glass paned and apparently covers around 2 hectares.

We found a seat with a table between us on the two carriage train and prepared for the journey.  I noted down the names of the stops so adding to my growing list of quaint names.   Armathwaite has a 125 year old signal box.  

Lazenby and Kirkoswald (two names for one small station) had a Gingerbread House style station building reminding me of Thomas The Tank Engine illustrations.   

At Appleby the coffee lady came on with her well stocked cart and her forceful sales personality.  It seemed as if everybody on board was prey and we succumbed to a cup of instant coffee (our first in this country).  People seemed to board the train at all the little stations and at Kirkby Stephen the spare seats beside us were taken by a husband and wife who were going on a walk - a four hour walk starting at Ribblehead.  They told us they were from Macclesfield and often went walking.  I asked how the routes were marked and he produced a small cell phone like device and proceeded to tell me how it guided them.  I’m none the wiser.   Looked to me like a specialty Google Maps thingy and I don’t get on all that well with her either.   

At Dent another lady took the seat beside me leaving one spare beside Little Sister and there was another spare across the aisle.  She was intending to meet two other friends on the train and at Gargrave where we were scheduled to stop briefly, we didn’t get going again.  She was on her phone talking to her friends when an announcement came across about a medical event causing delay, followed immediately by a second announcement saying that a branch had fallen on the overhead line somewhere and passengers could disembark briefly for a stretch if so desired.   Nobody appeared to leave the train, possibly because there were passengers standing and they may have lost their seat.  Eventually service was resumed and at Bingley Station the lady’s friends joined her.   They were an interesting trio.  One was celebrating a birthday.  One of the others insisted she opened her present then and there.  A book, a book mark, a bottle of alcohol and some temporary tattoos of dinosaurs.  At this my eyebrows could rise no higher.  These ladies would have been late 40s I think so dinosaur tattoos?   But she borrowed Little Sister’s scissors, cut out her dinosaur of choice, used a serviette and water from her drink bottle and applied said tattoo.  Satisfaction and hilarity all round.   This was an interesting trip.

The scenery was amazing.  Green fields, stone walls, and as we drew closer to Leeds we saw many canals.  At Bingley there is the steepest rise on the Leeds - Liverpool Canal, appropriately known as the Bingley Five Rise Locks.     The announcements by Northern Railway both amused me and made me aware of how different things are in the UK to home.   Security awareness seems much more heightened here and the announcement saying “if you witness anything untoward on any of our trains please contact a British Transport Police or phone….” then it was always “See it, Say it, Sort it”.   I was tickled pink with this and with “Mind the gap” as you alight.   Little Sister thought I was rather harsh about the latter as although people couldn’t fall through the gap they could trip.

As we got off the train we noticed a very different vibe to other places we have been.  I noticed too, a lot of police and security personnel standing watchfully.   And, even more noticeable were the groups of tawdry, minimally dressed women some of whom wore sashes labeled Bride to Be and Wifey so we assumed these to be Hen Parties.  So many of them though we wondered if it’s a seasonal or a regional thing.

By this time we were hungry and by sheer good fortune we decided to go in to a place called  “Craig Rogan at The Collective”. Now that’s not a common name for an eating establishment and neither is this place common.  It was superb.  We asked for Elderflower to drink and they specially mixed an Elderflower Soda for us.  Then the highly competent waitress recommended several dishes.  We chose Oak smoked Salmon, yuzu,  dill, apple and cucumber;  Beet, walnut, raspberry vinegar and  Kidderton Ash (goats cheese); Hen of the Woods, cheddar and sherry vinegar; Brined and roasted chicken, Swiss chard, harrisa and chive; with a side of Jersey Royals. If only all other UK chip chefs could make theirs as delicious as these Jersey Royals.   Ah, this meal has raised the bar and will be hard to beat.

During lunch the door had to be closed as a noisy Pro Palestine protest marched past flanked by police. It certainly slowed traffic.  

Then we wandered up to a large shopping complex.  It was Huge.  

On the roof was a silhouette type installation.  We looked.  We could see a cat.  We could see a dolphin.  

Little Sister took a photo. Ah, now we could see a face.  But whose face?  So we asked a local and she said it was Daniel Farke.  Who? we thought.  Turns out he’s the manager for Leeds United FC who are playing at Wembley tonight hoping for glorious victory and promotion to Premier League. ( I think I got that right)

We said hello to Edward, surnamed The Black Prince and to Dr Hook ( a one time mayor) as a nod to a friend of Little Sister’s.

We found Leeds an interesting city, very different in architecture and in atmosphere.   Among the old buildings were some modern ones and some had been adapted for modern use.  

I was particularly taken with an information welcome board outside the station.  Informative as well as humorous.  It seemed to be an electrical cable box that had been decorated and the back side read “The Power Lies Within”.

Back to the station and platform 1C.  This time for the return the train was four carriages so we didn’t have to share our space.  Across the aisle was a couple, he welded to his phone, she grumpy at the ticket collector who asked her twice  to validate her QR code!  At Skipton, she asked us if this was Keighly Station.  Little Sister quickly said “we’re from New Zealand”.  The husband and his phone stood, instructed the wife to collect the belongings and he left the carriage.  She gathered her scattered wits and belongings and his phone charging cable and just in time scrambled off the train.  Probably just as well as Keighly was the station prior!   

Also, when the ticket inspector came through later he clipped my tickets with an old fashioned punch!  Then a couple of seats further on, a group of 8 lads got a sharp reprimand and unwillingly parted with £ to pay for tickets.  As the inspector left the carriage we heard one say “I thought we’d got away with it”. Not so, at Horton In Ribblesdale all 8 were seen off the train.  Yay for Northern Rail Ticket Inspectors!

We were sitting on the opposite side for the return journey and noticed that in some areas the drystone walls had crumbled completely and there were post and wire fences.  Then again, in other parts, wire fences had been built in front of the drystone.  I guess the ‘self shearing sheep’ rubbing against the walls makes maintenance that much more difficult.   I don’t like the look of these sheep much.  They look a bit uncared for as if they need a good tidy up.  

On the return journey I double checked the tunnel count - it is 14 - and verified that there are two viaducts.  But as the track doesn’t curve I couldn’t get a photo.   Our New Zealand viaducts are much higher but not quite so picturesque as these old stone ones.

Today we especially noticed the different accents.  The coffee lady on the train asked us “where is your accent from”   We assured her we had no accent but admired hers!   

So today Little Sister saw no knitting shops but managed successfully to knit up a full ball of wool.  I enjoyed place names, and ticked off another box when I saw Peter Rabbit sitting quietly beside a fence in a field and I saw Bambi.   All in all, a good day but as yet no squirrels of any colour.