A Walk in the English Countryside of ‘All Creatures Great and Small’
Join Me for a Walk in the English Countryside of James Herriot’s “All Creatures Great and Small”
By Judy M. Zimmerman
In the clean country air of England’s Yorkshire Dales, we can still find a peaceful solitude that’s hard to imagine in today’s troubled world. Here, the cherished stories of beloved veterinarian and author Dr. James Herriot’s All Creatures Great and Small remain unchanged.
Thirty-five years ago, I joined a small guided Wayfarers walking group to discover the same enchanting Yorkshire paths made famous by the devoted country vet. (A new adaption of the original BBC TV series premiered on Masterpiece Theatre Sunday, January 10).
Join me now to experience firsthand the blessings of that remote world where Herriot found so many of the good things of life. Briskly we tramp, up rocky green fells and down gentle hillsides into the dales below amidst seas of purple heather. High on a wild and windswept moor, only the cry of a curlew or grouse betrays the silence of the endless networks of dry stone walls that enclose the pastures of a hardy people who’ve farmed there over the centuries.
We swing our legs over one of many stiles into a wheat field edged with bright red poppies. Here, rabbits and pheasants abound in the wild open field. On the other side, we follow the velvet grasses of a narrow wooded bank along the River Nidd, careful not to disturb a fly fisherman’s silent cast.
Then, strolling past tall hedgerows of a country lane, we stop to pick a handful of juicy wild gooseberries. Ahead, an ancient parish church beckons us to explore its heritage or stop to rest awhile.
Perhaps it will be a busy market day in the town ahead, where the stalls of the cobbled streets are abuzz with local shoppers. There’s sure to be a pub filled with red-cheeked farmers sipping pints of ale and enjoying a “ploughman’s lunch” of crusty whole-grain loaves, chunks of cheese, chutney and salad.
Over lunch, our fellow Wayfarers remember the first foggy morning’s walk out of Harrogate, where this five-day journey began. A few had arrived by train from London a day early to enjoy the former spa town’s award-winning gardens of dahlias, roses, snapdragons, and sweet peas in their fragrant blooming peak.
Harrogate’s wide stretch of groomed grassy land, preserved as a public park, is popular with white-clad lawn bowlers and others who gather to enjoy the band. Nearby, there’s Betty’s Tea Room, famous for its elegant lunches and delicious “high-cream teas.”
Charming Walk Leader Basil Jacques accompanied by his clever dog Taj, chooses obscure paths that highlight all sorts of intrigue along the way. These “public” paths actually traversed private land, some even dating back to Roman times.
Each da,y Walk Manager Betty Freeman transports our luggage ahead to the next night’s stop, then returns to join us for lunch at a pub. Sometimes she appears out of nowhere to set up a picnic along the way.
The first night’s stop is in the idyllic hamlet of Summerbridge, where our group stays at three different lodgings: a farm, a thatched cottage, and an ivy-clad inn. For dinner, we gather at the Clough farmhouse for a delicious dinner of pork roast and garden-fresh cauliflower, followed by Mrs. Clough’s prize desserts of raspberry-apple pie and strawberry pavlova meringue.
In the cathedral town of Ripon we have dinner at a jovial small hotel before dispersing to several “bed-and-breakfast” homes. As we drift off to a sound night’s sleep, the town horn blower sets the watch at the market square at nine p.m., a civic tradition unchanged since Saxon times.
The next day, Betty arranges a special visit for eight of us with her long-time personal friend, Dr. James Herriot (whose real name is Alf Wight). Herriot, now in his 70’s, reserves Wednesday afternoons to chat with Betty’s friends in his veterinary office in the cobbled market town of Thirsk.
As one admiring Wayfarer shakes Herriot’s hand, she says, “I just want to know ONE thing. Is the story about Amber really true? She reminds me so much of my own dog.”
“Of course!” Herriot smiles. “All the stories in my book are true.”
The following afternoon, we picnic on a hillside of springy grass that overlooks the tranquil panorama of Wensleydale below. Then there’s a long stretch of bleak open moorland to cross– harsh treeless country covered with heather and bracken. As we weary walkers approach our next overnight stay, the majestic ruins of Middleham Castle, once home to King Richard III, looms in the distance.
Our last town is Richmond with its quirky little streets and alleys that twist in all directions. Some lead to the Norman castle on the cliffs that overhang the River Swale; others to the ancient church with shops built into its walls, a feature unique in all England.
Now at the end of our trail, together with Herriot, we have found the incomparable sense of wonder and wild beauty of Yorkshire’s countryside.
Judy Zimmerman has been a travel editor and award-winning freelance travel writer for over 30 years. She¹s traveled to well over 100 countries and sailed on more than 65 cruises. Her articles have appeared in about 900 newspapers, magazines, and websites. She is an award-winning member of the Society of American Travel Writers and the Outdoor Writers of California.
