Ribblehead

To be honest, we could have put a bit more planning into this. In the end, though, Milly was texting me from her bed, this morning, discussing the best way to get to Lincolnshire. We decided taking the train from Ribblehead would be best; the times were right and, happily, it was also the cheapest option. 

So, after a quick stop at Booths to pick up some food for the journey*, we - me, the Minx, Milly and Evan - drove east along the A65 and the up through Ingleton and out to the north, to this lovely old station in the middle of, well, nowhere. To be honest, I have absolutely no idea why there's even a station there.

To get from the eastbound platform, which has the car park, to the westbound one, you have to go across the tracks. And although that wasn't necessary for us this morning, I couldn't resist going down to get a photo. 

Having dropped the birthday girl plus boyfriend off and having sized up the old station master's house, which you can rent out, we set off to find some breakfast. The Minx had located a place called the Lune Springs Garden Centre, which was some way north, but, actually, the two of us on a long drive is one of my favourite things, so I was perfectly happy. 

Despite scoring a measly 2.5 on TripAdvisor, I was rather taken with Lune Springs, which was clearly a family affair. The filter coffee wasn't bad at all and the scrambled eggs on toast was exactly what I fancied. The Minx read the local paper and I read my Bill Drummond book. Perfect Saturday morning.

*It's not often you find yourself saying "The South Africans have a word for it" but on this occasion they do. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you padkos.