retiredmartin

March 2025. Ripon.

You can’t complain about £2.40 for 24 hours of parking in a Yorkshire cathedral city; I make that nearly 10p an hour.

Having eaten our ChatGPT approved Booths Spanish picnic we must have fallen asleep early, as I completely missed the hornblower calling last orders at 9pm in the market square.

But at least that meant I was awake early to make a last attempt to get to grips with Ripon, and end up judging it “The Driffield of the North“.

A bit traffic-beaten, a bit lacking in independent businesses, the Spoons dominating.

But there’s no denying the majesty of the church, and any cathedral named after St Wilfrid, who collected relics the way I collect pubs, is OK with me.

They were setting up a craft fair in the cathedral, and would have charged me a fiver (contactless) to come in an hour later.

I rate it NCSS 3.5, deducting 0.25 for giving Æthelstan the humiliation of responsibility for selling tombola tickets.

I wasn’t the only one thinking the church had gone too commercial, the windows of the former St Margaret’s bookshop festooned with rants against a planned cathedral annexe*.

There’s three museums of the “this is what schools/police cells/whippet shops used to look like” variety here; probably Blackpool Jane will find more energy to visit those some time.

We got good value from our National Trust membership (a sign of middle age, that) with a walk round nearby Fountains Abbey/Studley Royal Water Gardens.

Come in May for more colour, I guess, but the views are stunning, a bit like Stourhead.

At the Studley tea room I had a shock as Mrs RM turned down my offer of drizzle cake; the unidentified bird waited for crumbs.

We’d parked in the Abbey car park and I was convinced we could get back from the tea room quicker than just going back the way we’d come. A couple of gentlefolk saw me looking at the map and came over to my shoulder.

“Can I HELP you ?“.

“I’m just checking the route back to the main car park without going through the gardens“.

“Oh, you CAN’T go that way, it’s a VERY long way“.

“It really isn’t” pointing to map;

“You need to show your card at the gate and go back the way you came. It’s a long way the other way round”.

“It really isn’t”.

It took us all of 12 minutes.

15 minutes later you’re at Brimham Rocks, a rather different National Trust beast.

I always thought it was just this;

just a string of rocks, like the ones at Yelverton near Plymouth.

But no, it’s mammoth, and incredibly impressive,

and you’ll wonder how you’ve never been before.

And then you’ll have an ice cream.

*Plans withdrawn ! Hoorah/boo