It’s been wet wet wet but I wanted to walk a bit so Rachel and I walked up Pendle Hill.
It’s really a great lump with a shadowed history, where the most famous witch trial in British history resulted in executions somewhere on the hill.
(I can’t tell you how many because I’m in a coffee shop and the link is blocked “because of its content categorization: “Alternative Spirituality/Belief””!)
It was very wet.
Did I mention the wet?
There were a random merry pack of hikers who arrived at the path the same time we did.
And the requisite scraggy sheep.
Then we trotted off down a moody road to a local pub where we necked half pints quickly, parted ways to get clean and dry, then went out for dinner with Finch, where I was treated to an exhibition of English womanhood in all its curvy, platformed, false eyelashed glory.