The habit of sending postcards from holiday has all but died out. So, here’s one from Eden.
No, not the Garden. My ancestors (and yours) were expelled from there long ago, but the Eden Valley, high in the hills of Cumbria.
To be precise, from the old market town of Kirkby Stephen, altitude 574ft, population around 1,800.
It sits beside the river Eden, which rises a few miles away in Mallerstang common and flows through the fells to the Solway Firth.
A bit like homecoming. My family came from Bewcastle, north of Carlisle.
There’s nothing special here, except the magnificent 12th-century church known as the Cathedral of the Dales, with a 1,200-year-old statue of Loki, a Norse devil-god in chains.
The place feels like it has seen better times. Two of the three chippies are up for sale – always a bad sign – and the Kings Arms pub is up for sale.
So why come here? Because of the yellow door. Thawat?
Visiting in Leeds infirmary, Mrs R found an advert for a holiday cottage with a yellow door, and decided that if I survived, we would come here.
And so it came about. It’s a two-hour drive up the Aire Valley and through some daunting fell country.
The nearest large town is 25 miles away. A handful of charity bus routes operate, and not every day.
But there is a friendly, upland spirit to the place, with a chatty seat inviting people to sit and talk. Walkers on the cross-country Wainwright Way are welcome.
“We walk west to east, with the wind and rain behind,” a German hiker confessed ruefully. “This is my second try.”
Some 15,000 visit annually, less than half the number to not-far-off Barnard Castle, where tourism was bolstered by the “Cummings Effect”. The eyes have it.
There, that’s more than I could get on a p/c. These days, the stamp would cost more than the card, and you’d be back home before it gets to your aunt in Ossett.
