Twelve apostles

Ilkley. How the other half live ey! A cheese butty in a marquee, retreated to the car. Double bag those feet for a hike using Mark's new "map" over the moors.
Faces sheared off with the bite of the wind in search of non existent cairns disguised as rubble and a rock. Slippery slopes, wall walking and a boggy foot (my fault). A cappuccino with needle hands as they thawed. A huge bed, 3 course meal, sausage fingers and a trip down music memory lane. I've never been happier.