Firstly, the moors are gorgeous. The roads are cobbled and precariously hilly, and I'm amazed buses get up there in general. The houses are all very old stone things that look perpetually rain-soaked, so I can see it becoming very atmospheric in the dark. Gaskell, in her way, wasn't wrong when she painted the village as a sort of melancholy place. But it's also very picturesque and pretty as well.The parsonage itself was lovely and kept in pristine condition as a museum for the Brontës, and Lorna and Erin and I had a very nice time wandering around and reading about the sisters, as well as Branwell's scandalous life of debauchery and alcoholism. Being Byronic is really only a good idea in concept rather than application, Branwell! Silly man.
I also nearly made a very financially unwise decision to purchase a painting by one Victoria Brookland, who did a number of ink paintings inspired by Charlotte Brontë's clothing. They were beautiful works filled with Victoriana and Gothic sensibility that reminded me a bit of Harry Clarke, but a bit out of my price range. If she ever starts making prints, though, I'm going to be all over it. Instead,
we all bought wax seals with our initials on them and postcards so that when Erin's in Canada and I'm in Durham we shall all very formally write to each other the old fashioned way. It's going to be epic, I'm telling you!After that, we wandered into the Apothecary (and yes, there is a proper apothecary, right across from the church) which was like going back in time by a good sixty years. Erin and Lorna bought fancy candy, and I nearly bought very ridiculous perfume, but didn't. Then we had afternoon tea/lunch in a tea room run by extremely lovely and friendly people, and headed back to Keighley...by steam train!
I feel fully immersed in the Industrial Revolution, now. It was awesome.And thus, a lovely weekend trip! Perhaps next weekend we'll go to Scarborough.
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