Our whirlwind England road trip was coming to an end. We left the beautiful Lakes District and headed east towards Yorkshire, with an ultimate destination towards the moors famed by the Brontë sisters.
But first, of course, we stopped for a taste of Yorkshire Pudding. In a small, comfy pub we were served an oversized pudding filled with gravy. I’ve had small Yorkshire puddings (similar to a popover) served with a slice of roast, but never have I seen a large soup bowl sized one. It was absolutely delicious and rich, rich, rich. In fact, I think this was the food that threw me over the edge – my stomach just did not like me after that. It wasn’t the pudding. It was the sum of all the heavy eating I managed to scoff on this trip. (p.s. I still love anything in a pastry shell.)
So, let’s focus on the landscapes: Throughout this trip, we experienced abrupt changes in landscapes. From small hills of the Cotswolds to the playful green valleys of the Peak District, to the ridgy hills and lakes of Cumbria, we enjoyed them all with wonder. So, we were looking forward to witnessing another amazing panorama of England. As we left Cumbria, passed through the beautiful Yorkshire sceneries, we swung south west to what I can describe as a heavy weight of desolate flatlands, also known as the Moors of West Yorkshire. [Pictured] It was immediately obvious to me why the Brontë sisters were so depressed.
Just imagining the winters of flat emptiness brought me to the goth mentality of Lydia Deetz – feeling utterly alone. (You feelin’ me young goths?) Fortunately, it was mid-summer, so the warm sun and greenery did keep me from plummeting to deep sadness. I know what you’re thinking: Lighten up! Well, that’s exactly what I thought every time I turned a page of a Brontë novel. And being here made me realize why their stories were so gloomy.
Don’t get me wrong. The moors had their own natural beauty – they really did. And the sisters really did have a depressing, sort-of, life: Mom dying young, sister dying here and brother was a lot to handle. So, they had their reasons and inspirations for such heavy writing. I’ll give them that. I can’t blame it all on their surroundings. Because the landscape was, in fact, peaceful.
Please don’t misunderstand me when reading the above. I really did appreciate this area. Especially because I saw what inspired that heaviness of the Brontës. And just getting this other layer of England was satisfying.
Off to re-read Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights.