September 2, 1999
Despite the desire to go to one of those peaks in Lake District, we had to sensibly decide against it when the clouds stayed low and threatened to rain on the third day. So, it was farewell to Lake District.
On that morning, we walked to the bank of Derwentwater and had a last good look of this beautiful lake. It was still early and even the boat jetty was quiet. I think Derwentwater is most beautiful with its little islands and the imposing Cats Bell and ridge as backdrop.
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We arrived at Malham, a tiny village in Yorkshire Dales just before noon. Paul had done this Malham Walk for at least 6 times in every seasons and was never disappointed with it. Frankly, I was a little skeptical about how
fantastic it could be after Lake District, especially since the guidebooks hardly mention it. Also, Malham and the surrounding fields did not look particularly interesting too. But I was so wrong.
Paul came to know about this walk through the freshman orientation walk organised by the Walking Club of York University. If one has to present a tempting appetizer to draw members into the club, this has to be it. Paul purposely refused to give me much clue about what it would be like, despite my persistent questioning along the way. He was careful not to spoil the surprises and I really had to thank him for that. Not only did I stayed intrigued, but it also gave him satisfaction to witness my surprised expression.
The famous Pennine Way (Britain’s oldest and longest walk which takes weeks to complete) overlaps part of this Malham Walk. It started with typical farm fields, soon we were entering a moss-covered woods with a stream next to us and we arrived at the first highlight, the Janet’s Foss. ‘Foss’ is a Scandinavian term for waterfall. Legend has it that a fairy lived in the cave behind the waterfall (there is a cave indeed). The waterfall was not at its most impressive state as it hadn’t rained much for a while, but the good part was that I got to play at the pool beneath it.
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After emerging from the woods, it’s an open field and we could see a some cliffs ahead of us. The sight got more impressive as we got closer. It’s a limestone gorge called Gordale Scar, formed by the melting glacier water during Ice Age. Well, with its rugged edges, it certainly looks like an ugly scar in the serene landscape. Now, the fun part is that you have to climb to the top, not via some well-worn paths or steps, but a waterfall. There wasn’t much water but still exciting enough to find your steps.
When you reached the top, it’s an endless wilderness-like plateau, green fields with scattered stones and sheep. Then, a long walk (you won’t mind at all because it’s so peaceful) and you start to say hello to sheep. The sense of open space is so therapeutic to the soul.
Later, we arrived at Malham Tarn, a huge lake partially covered in mist. It was so quiet that the lapping water sounded like music. Another field crossing and you start to descend into another gorge. The rocky path was terrible on the knees. Next, you walk through the gorge, as it opens into a fantastic view of rolling green fields, from the top of Malham Cove!
Malham Cove is a giant horseshoe-like natural amphitheatre, its overhanging cliff is the ultimate challenge for many UK’s rock climbing enthusiasts. When you lean over the edge and look down, there’s a stream flowing out from it.
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The Ice Age not only eroded and created the cove, it also formed the Malham Lings, a pavement of giant stone slabs. Walking on top of the cove was like hopping from slabs to slabs. The gaps are wide enough for your careless foot and some of the stones are loose (you can actually stand on top and rock). This time, the descent looked more like steps. When you reach the bottom, look up and admire the cliff, sit on some stones next to the stream and watch a couple of rock climbers gripping the rock. What a finale to end a walk!
