Some B&Bs were in there more or less from the beginning and became legends among regular trailwalkers. Chris Sainty, former chairman of the Pennine Way Association, is one of many who remembers Ethel Burnop, of Woodhead Farm in Lothersdale, with particular fondness. ‘She was one of the early B&B providers and I remember Tom Stephenson used to drop in if he was in the area,’ he said. ‘It was a working farm in those days and very basic, but you always got a fantastic greeting and a cup of tea with lashings of cake. Her breakfasts were enough to keep you going all day and she never turned anyone away. She loved what she called her “Pennine Highwaymen”. They were her family.’
Teacher and guidebook writer Alan Binns also recalled how the Burnops were always kind and welcoming to his groups of schoolboys on their Pennine Way walks in the 1960s and 70s, never once refusing anyone shelter. The record, he believes, was probably set in July 1968, when on just one night there were 26 walkers inside the farm and 46 tents in the field outside.
David Blowers was another who used the pages of the Pennine Way Association’s newsletter to praise the Burnops’ unfailing hospitality. He recounted the highlights from his walk along the Pennine Way in July 1979 with two fellow sixth-formers:
Woodhead Farm was such a welcome sight and we had been told that a meal from ‘the Burnops of Woodhead Farm’ was something not to be missed, so our first approach to Mr Burnop was tactful: we asked if the pub in the village served meals and to our delight he answered by saying that his wife may cook us a meal. Feeling in a better mood we went to put the tent up.
A paragraph dedicated to Mr and Mrs Burnop:
These are the most amazing people that I have ever come across. They allowed us, and the two French ladies [also walking the Pennine Way], who were having bed and breakfast and evening meal, to use their washing and toilet facilities. Not only that but they were friendly and the meal, well just take a look at this: Soup, roll and butter, roast steak, roast potatoes, boiled potatoes, sprouts, carrots, runner beans, cabbage, cauliflower, biscuits and cheese, strawberries and ice cream, tea … wonderful.
We spent most of the evening in their house, both before and after the meal, talking just as if we were at home. Mrs Burnop even asked us what we would like to watch on the television … such luxury.
The Pennine Way deliberately bypasses Hebden Bridge, because when the route was originally plotted there was little to attract walkers. Early in the last century, it was a prosperous mill town, famous as the centre of the trade in fustian (thickly woven cotton cloth with a short nap or pile, like corduroy and moleskin); but bust followed boom and by the 1960s it seemed to be in terminal decline. Some industry limped on, but shops were empty, houses were being pulled down and the valley was littered with redundant and dirty mill buildings. In his 1967 book A Guide to the Pennine Way, Christopher John Wright describes the scene: ‘This very narrow gorge of the River Calder has cotton manufacturies, clothing mills and dye works crowded into the valley, and the smoke and smell of industrial effluent fills the lungs.’
Then, during the 1970s and 80s, Hebden Bridge began to reinvent itself as an influx of artistic and creative people moved into the valley; and after that a new wave of wealthier, trendy incomers brought in further vitality. There are still the steep cobbled streets and tightly packed rows of traditional ‘double-decker’ housing, but the once grimy old mill town now boasts dozens of small independent shops, as well as cafés, bars and places to stay.
I walked into the town centre to soak up the atmosphere of what The Times described in 2013 as ‘the coolest place to live in Britain’. It’s likely that if the route of the Pennine Way was being plotted today, it would pass through Hebden Bridge, not least because it was also the first official ‘Walkers are Welcome’ town in the UK. This initiative was launched in 2007 and now includes over a hundred towns and villages nationwide where visiting walkers are assured of the best possible service.
The latest development is the Hebden Bridge Loop, a new walking route connecting the Pennine Way with the town centre to encourage walkers to stop and visit. The idea came from Dave Brooks, co-director of Hebden Bridge Hostel. When he walked the Pennine Way in 2012, it occurred to him that trailwalkers were missing out by not entering Hebden Bridge or nearby Heptonstall. Dave and the local walkers’ action group worked together to create a waymarked route from Callis Wood to the town centre, then up to Heptonstall to rejoin the Pennine Way near Hebble Hole. And what, I asked him, about those purists who say it’s not the official route? ‘Well, what about the Bowes Loop?’ replied Dave. ‘If Bowes can have a Loop, then so can Hebden Bridge.’
The Bowes Loop, much further along the path, is an alternative section of the trail via the County Durham village of Bowes. It was introduced early on, to offer more accommodation choices, but ironically there are few places to stay in Bowes these days so the Loop has lost much of its original purpose.
I do like what the enterprising folk of Hebden Bridge have done and I like the idea that the Pennine Way can evolve and improve, offering future walkers more choice and a better experience. I also like the fact that Dave proudly displays a large map and photos of his own Pennine Way walk in the entrance of the hostel. This comfortable and welcoming independent hostel adjoins the Birchcliffe Centre, a former Baptist Chapel that is now the base for a lively arts and heritage charity called Pennine Heritage (which Dave is also involved in). The charity is devoted to preserving and promoting the landscapes of the South Pennines, and its local oral history recordings and photographic collections include, most fittingly, archive material from the Pennine Way Council (which later became the Pennine Way Association).
Some short but lung-busting climbs were needed to finally exit the Calder valley and leave the colourful denizens of Hebden Bridge behind. The noise and bustle far below fell silent as I steadily made my way up across sloping pasture and deserted lanes towards the expanse of Heptonstall Moor.
Before I climbed the last field, I took a breather and veered off to visit Highgate Farm, just off the route. This is the site of a small but legendary shop known as May’s Aladdin’s Cave. It all began 35 years ago when farmer’s wife May Stocks was asked by some passing Pennine Way walkers if she could spare any fresh milk or eggs for their breakfast. This kept happening, so she asked what else they needed and, as her daughter-in-law told me across the counter, it just grew and grew. The converted stable building is crammed full of everything Pennine Way walkers could possibly want – hence the Aladdin’s Cave tag – from toiletries and newspapers to tinned food and cold pies, fresh fruit and home-made cakes to ice creams, bottled beer, and spare hats and socks. There’s a deli counter, fresh sandwiches and jars of sweets.
‘We stock what walkers ask for,’ I was told. ‘Plasters, talc and gas canisters seem to be popular.’ She went on to explain that it has become a community shop for the residents of Higher Colden, and as I stood there agonising between a giant square of flapjack and a tempting sticky bun, there was a regular stream of local people popping in for this and that, or simply to chat. Although Pennine Way walkers are no longer the shop’s mainstay, they remain important to May, a sprightly 76-year-old who still has a regular newspaper delivery round. You can camp for free in the field by the farm, and over the years she has dried boots, sown broken rucksack straps and offered moral encouragement to those wearying of Calderdale’s steep slopes. In the end I bought the enormous square of chocolate-covered flapjack, thick and rich and very filling. It kept me going till teatime.
I finally reached the top of the slope and stepped out onto the high open ground. Ahead of me, the hills broadened out and there was quite a lot of nothing. By this I mean that there were some small, far-off reservoirs, a few farms and clumps of