The Howardian Hills

A bicycle map in conjunction with a backpack are as good as an intention, so entirely in the spirit of yesterday's philosophy I felt obliged to take a cycle tour today. For which the weather has to be at least moderately good: fortunately, the BBC said it would be dry and even intermittently sunny after 14:00, and the rain radar confirmed that this might be so, so that left about four hours of daylight to explore the surroundings of York.

I have consulted my new University colleagues about which destinations I should not miss out on, and one of those mentioned was Castle Howard, some 15 miles to the north (as the Nazgul flies). That seemed like a nice distance to try my bike out on, so the only remaining problem was to plan a route. Having seen how navigable the footpaths are around York, it seemed like a good bet to take those as a basis and take it from there. To start with, the river Foss, which flows south into York, was shown by the map to have a footpath along its bank for a long way in the right direction.

One of the most curious signs I can
remember ever seeing

This turned out to be an interesting exercise. The footpath was unsuitable for biking in almost every possible way: at times it was 30 cm wide and directly at the edge of the water; at other times it was overgrown with nettles (walking those parts would be no joke either) and at others muddy and slippery in the extreme (same remark). It all came out fine, but I certainly can't claim to have a shiny new bike any more!

I baulked at the first stile and took to the road instead. Unfortunately, where the English countryside is literally riddled with public footpaths, as a result of the right-of-way legislation, the same is definitely not true for bike paths. Indeed outside a circle of say 5 miles radius around York, bicyclists are so rare that they appear to form a Secret Society all by themselves, with waves and friendly helloes whenever they meet. I am not quite a member yet, as I do not possess the necessary uniform consisting of a helmet and luminescent pink jacket, but I was enthousiastically greeted all the same.

The roads were disappointingly boring and rather full of speeding cars until I got a little further north and hills started heaving up the country. These were the Howardian Hills, the home of Castle Howard. All of a sudden I was reminded strongly of my spinning lessons, the more so because I noticed only now that my front gear won't go into first. Halfords, you have something to answer for! I actually had to get off at one point, coincidentally being passed right at that moment by another cyclist who shouted an encouraging "yes, this one's a brute isn't it?" before disappearing uphill. Given the time of day, I started wondering if it was wise to try and reach the castle itself, since I still had to find my way back - preferably along a different route.

Entrance to Castle Howard

Well, fortunately there were no more brutes awaiting me, so I took heart and did go on towards my planned destination. Castle Howard is not a medieval castle but an early 18th century residence, not unlike the Twickel in Twente, although that is actually older for a change. There are extensive castle grounds, including a farm of which the produce is sold within the castle. The building itself did not seem all that large, I had expected something grander.

To reward myself I had the largest ice cream in memory before I set out again. On the way back I kept more to the east, where the landscape was much more interesting. Since I now also had the wind at my back, all in all I enjoyed the ride home a good deal more. The only problem was that the light began to fail, and indeed it was fully dark when I was back at about 19:00 o'clock, having covered about 50 miles in total. The little light on my bike is only suited for making me visible to other traffic, not to illuminate the way, so I was glad to be back. To console my faithful bike, which has never before in its short life been so far from home and which cannot really be blamed for lacking a first gear, I did take the trouble to wash the worst of the mud off.

Howardian-produced "chutneys and relishes"

It was only after an hour or so of recuperation that I started wondering about this castle, which had so emphatically been recommended as a worthwhile destination and is located in such impressive surroundings: it really didn't seem all that grand a building. Well, to cut short to a realisation which was rather slow coming to me: I will have to go there again if I want to see the real castle, because what I saw was just a gatehouse...

They are advertising a Halloween celebration at the castle. I think I will take that opportunity to have another try - but probably not by bike!