Holiday journal : 6-9 April - Staying with Ric

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After we had dug ourselves out of the crack in the road map, we made good progress and arrived eventually at Pecket Well, Hebden Bridge. Ric recently bought his first house here, although he has been living in rented accommodation just down the road for a number of years. He lives in one of a small terrace of houses built of stone, with their backs up against the road, and facing down the valley to Hebden Bridge. To get to their front doors you have to go down a few steps at one or other end of the terrace, and along a paved path giving access to their front doors. Their sheds, patios, and gardens all fall away down the hill on the other side of the path. This is the view from his front door.

The access to Ric's house caused me considerable problems, as the flags are uneven, and the steps of different heights, and all get slippery in the rain. I had to rely heavily on Ric's arm to get to his house, and even with it I slipped on one occasion. Being a circus performer who is used to supporting people in acrobatics, he managed to hold me (all 11 stone I'm ashamed to say) so that I did not actually land on my butt, until I told him to let me down gently for the last 2 or 3 inches, and take the weight off his arm.

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I wasn't able to get pictures of the outside of the house, as the terrace is on a bend, and the pavements are minimal at that point. It would have been too risky to stand in the road. Parking is on the side of the road opposite the house, and we drew up behind Ric's large blue van.

Although it has the appearance of a small house, it actually has three stories, and is much more roomy. The front door opens into the sitting room, which opens into the kitchen. The stairs go up from the sitting room to the first floor where there is a bathroom and a big bedroom which Ric uses as a work room. Some of you might remember my picture of his last workroom; this one being bigger contains, in addition to the sewing machine, a Black and Decker workbench, his computer and a sofa bed. If he didn't have to eat, and go out to do the gigs by which he earns his living, I reckon he could live in the one room.

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On the second floor there is a large attic bedroom, with a smaller room off - ideal for the visiting Australian family. I was offered the sofa bed in the workroom, but as I find them uncomfortably low to get out of, I opted for a b&b in The Robin Hood Inn 50 yards down the road. Here I had a comfortable bed, but found myself in danger of stunning myself against the heavy beam which ran across the room at forehead height. However, I devised a warning system for myself by tucking two white hankies into a long groove running the length of the beam.