Festive Haworth

I’ve wanted to visit Haworth for some considerable time and finally made it over to West Yorkshire last week, towards the end of an exceptionally cold fortnight where temperatures barely rose above zero. And it was well worth it.

Arriving late in the morning we parked on the eastern side of the town, walking the icy pavements towards Oakworth Station, the smell of coal smoke lingering in the frosty air. This isn’t just Brontë country, it’s Railway Children country, and along from the station building was an engine shed with some shunting going on… Getting ready for Christmas excursions, Black Five 45212 is adorned with tinsel, while 75078 – one of many engines rescued from the infamous Barry scrapyard after withdrawal in 1966 – is moved in to position and also tinselled up. This is my kind of festive scene. A timeless vista, steam engines flanked by a BR Class 101 to the left and a 37 to the right, a couple of shunters doing the heavy lifting while coal braziers burn and snow lies on the ground. I could have watched it for longer but the days are short, and we had more to see and do…

I’m out for the day with my friend Louise and the next stop was a rather nice lunch at Haworth Old Hall, before we began a leisurely walk up the main cobbled high street, in and out of independent shops and eventually taking coffee and cake as the early sunset passed and the blue hour set in. I had another task beyond the engine sheds, and it was to take Christmassy pictures of the village like this one:

It wasn’t easy, with window cleaners, trade vans and other vehicles all passing through – or even stopping in – shot frequently, but I eventually got a few that represented the warmth, charm and festivity of this delightful corner of the place they call God’s Own Country. If it wasn’t for the litter bin front and centre it would be an almost idyllic depiction.

You can imagine much of this not being that far removed from how it was when the Brontë sisters were around…

A warm glow spilled out of Mrs Beighton’s festive windows on to the cobbled street outside:

While the snow covered hills in the near distance contrast with the warm glow of the main street. Deceptively warm, mind – it still hadn’t broken above freezing all day…

I have to say, Haworth lived up to the expectations I had for it. You could wish for a blanket of snow to make it the perfect Christmas card village but the reality is that even if that had come to pass, you’d either never get there on the already treacherous roads, or never be able to leave again – or there would be so much salt and sludge on the streets it would just look a mess.

I’m happy with the pictures I got and I’d certainly go back.