Photographs by Thomas Prior
Illustrations by Lisa Lok
The gray-blue Hyundai was miles from anywhere in my guidebook, winding past tiny churches and lolling banana plants and a man selling salt fish outside a welding shop. I trailed it down a narrow potholed street, then into a narrower lane where abruptly a shirtless man stepped before it with a tired palm out. A mellow flurry of activity ensued. …
Photographs by Carolyn Drake
Illustrations by Mark Caneso
Maybe walking all day breeds a kind of cognitive fog we hadn’t anticipated. Maybe middle age had come for our hearing. Maybe Brits need to enunciate better. Whatever the case, my four friends and I stood on a windy moor in the waning afternoon light wondering what, exactly, the nice lady had said might eat us.
It was the first leg of our 50-plus-mile walk through the Yorkshire Dales. Close your eyes and picture the English countryside: I’m here to tell you it’s really like that. Windswept hills. Lush valleys. Cozy pubs in tiny stone villages. An abbey here, a castle there. Roughly a zillion sheep. This is James Herriot country, Wuthering Heights country, Secret Garden country, all lazy becks and misty woodlands and dry stone walls, and travelers come from around the world to take in its beauty. …