A Little Local Color

After god knows how long without sleep and a very tiring flight I arrived in Manchester.  In one of those brilliant moments of problem-solving, which I don't have often enough, I had hired a car to drive me from the airport to my apartment in Hebden Bridge -- 40ish miles.  Pricey, but well worth it, not only for the comfort but for the delightful conversation I had with the driver, Peter.  We even got to talking so much that he missed the proper route and we ended up on an extremely scenic detour that he enjoyed so much he said he was going to show his wife.

I really thought I was just too tired to do anything once I got settled in, but I went for a little walk which got bigger and bigger as time passed.  Somewhere along the way I was re-energized, which was a good thing because I was quite a distance from my apartment and it was downhill all the way, not to mention an extremely tricky walk through woods on uneven ground.  I managed to find a spot to get some food and then wandered through town where I caught this little bit of inspired showmanship.   After that, it was the uphill walk which wasn't really all that bad, a hot shower, and some sleep.  Tomorrow is the Handmade Parade and I'll be there, camera in hand.

My extra photos are of the bridge on the walking path that requires serious attention to navigate without breaking a bone; my lunch (cheese rolls at the Olive Branch -- feta cheese, dill and some extras in pastry rolls so flaky that they burst into buttery shards when I bit into them; and "my kind of guy" feeding the critters at the bridge.  (No cat yet, Mary Jo)