Saturday July 9, 1983

At Horton-in-Ribblesdale.

 Hot. Up with the larks and off to Horton leaving Bradford at 9am to Settle via Keighley. We found ourselves in the company of a ghastly woman aged 65 and wearing denims, who pestered us as we hurtled through the scenic dales. Her husband, she announced loudly, once played the organ at a silver wedding party which was attended by the Duchess of Kent's father. Who bloody cares? At Settle for 10. The place was seething and a carnival atmosphere prevailed. Bunting was fluttering for Settle Show. We phoned Mum and Dad from the Royal Oak and they collected us. Mum thought Ally looked very pale. But it's the traveling. On to Horton where I was immediately pushed up a ladder with a paint brush. Dad was doing similar, and Mum and Ally sat with cups of tea in the striped deckchairs. Ally had phoned Lynn last night because today they have gone to Wales and Lynn hinted that we have a great surprise in store. However, we have yet to receive one ... or was the paint brush the surprise? Spent the evening with our feet up.

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