4: Herriot's, In Hawes

More on my arrival at the Bed and Breakfast the evening before…

I stayed at Herriot’s in Hawes twelve years ago when a friend of mine and I did a UK trip. I had picked them because of the Herriot name, but quickly struck up an acquaintance with the owner, Glenn, over email. I checked them out and it looked like a great place to stay while doing some Dales walking on our way up to Scotland. We had a really nice time there with Glenn and his wife Liz. Back then we talked about the US and the concealed carry laws (they had lots of questions which I’m not sure we answered well), England’s politics, and how to say “y’all” like a Texan. They got us sorted each morning as we planned our walks and we became friends. I followed them on Facebook and have been keeping up with them off and on ever since.

Fast forward to 2024 and my decision to take this trip. As soon as I started thinking about it I emailed Glenn, who remembered me well and welcomed the reservation. I booked 6 nights and made the bold decision to drive up, partly because I knew I would be staying with Glenn and Liz again and had a good idea of what to expect. When I arrived on the Saturday afternoon after Mayhem, Marketplaces, and scratched car doors, it felt like coming home. There was another guest there named Harry. Glenn introduced us, a really interesting 87 year-old retired lawyer who was walking the upper Dales for a week. This fellow deserves a whole blog to himself!

From the street, my room was up four flights of stairs. I got the Elephants up and crashed. I had an apple, banana, and chocolate for dinner and slept at least 11 hours. I awoke to word that my very favorite professor from college had passed away a few days before and it made me really reflective. I was in a really, really good place to be reflective.

That first morning it felt so good to be there (TBH every morning felt that way)! Greeted cheerily by Glenn, I had my first of Liz’s breakfasts that week. My Lord, the woman makes beautiful food and it was every bit as good as I had remembered. She’s an elite professional chef and eating breakfast there is a real treat. After the guests were all served, she came out from the kitchen and it was great to be together again! We decided we would have fish and chips for dinner that night and catch up properly, along with Harry. (Also, those were the best fish & chips with mushy peas of the trip.)

I wandered around the Main Street of Hawes that afternoon. More motorcycles and bicycles. I was disappointed to find out that what I thought I heard was a “Spa’ in town was actually “Spar” the grocery store (the two words sound EXACTLY the same there). There was a local craft fair going on and I met three great women who were showing their art. A potter, a quilter, and a glass artist. I bought a snack and some water and sat on the big, wooden bench at the village churchyard among the gravestones and dandelions. The people watching was great, but not nearly as good as the dog watching. I fantasized about doing a photo spread of “The Dogs of Hawes” — they are pure royalty in the Dales. Pure-bred and perfect. They are walking showpieces. Spaniels, Bulldogs, Great Danes, Retrievers, several breeds I had never even seen before — all shiny and fancy and magnificent. They owned the place.

But then there were the herding dogs. A whole other matter. I do not count the working dogs in my descriptions above, even though the are also pure bred and perfect — they are a species unto themselves. They were mostly Border Collies, but not all. They were all with their farmers and trotted through the town with muddy legs and great purpose. People treated them differently, and saw people give way for them on the sidewalks as they came in from the fields to sit in the pubs with their farmers. I’m pretty certain they are more human than canine and it was a bit awe-inspiring to be in their presence. The fancy dogs may have owned the place, but the working dogs ruled it.

Such an enjoyable dinner with Glenn, Liz, and Harry over fish & chips. They even shared some of the Lamme’s chocolate Longhorns and Pecan Pralines I brought them for dessert (I told them they didn’t have to share.) I was a happy girl.