Skipton 2019

We really like Skipton and the area around it, and having seen a beer festival advertised we just couldn’t resist the urge to book a long weekend break in a lovely little cottage. The 1855 Wash House was tastefully decorated to a very high standard, with lots of thoughtful touches. It was a real pleasure to stay here and our weekend seemed far too short.

The Thursday drive up to Skipton was wet, in fact most of the weekend was wet, but we didn’t let that get in the way of the fun.

After a nice lunch in the Dales Cottage cafe, we checked into our cottage, freshened up, and headed straight to the beer festival.

It was already busy, seating only available outside on a breezy and showery day, so we went back indoors and kept our eyes open for a chance to grab a seat. Eventually we managed to get hold of two, and seized on the chance to pull them up at the end of a table as some people got up to leave.

We ended up chatting to a couple from Dewsbury, and had so much in common with them that Jill ended up swapping phone numbers. I was a bit dubious about this myself as Jill was getting a bit squiffy, but they seemed friendly enough. We bumped into them again on the Saturday while having a drink in the Boathouse pub, overlooking the rain lashed canal.

Friday saw enough of a lull in the rain to allow us a long walk through Skipton Castle woods, a very pleasant hour or two culminating in a quick pint in the very noisy Albion pub, just around the corner from our accommodation. 

That evening we dined ‘at home’ with an M&S food bundle, fish pie, carrots and peas, and a nice bottle of wine rounded off with cheese and crackers; although we had to walk through the rain to Tesco for the crackers.

Saturday we had planned to either do a canal boat journey, or the Embsay steam train to Bolton Abbey. The persistent rain put paid to that however, so we alternated between browsing shops and popping into pubs. We had a poor quality takeaway from Busy Lizzie’s chippy for tea, freshened up after a nap, and went out for a few beers in the evening. 

We finished the night in the Beer Engine micropub on Albert Street, listening to a great set from Blind J Bear Johnson, whose eyesight appearead to be as good as his voice.

On Sunday the weather improved and we decided to do the railway. It turned out to be something of a disappointment. Return tickets were