We went on a bus trip with the Outdoor Society, who were going walking in the surrounding countryside. So picture us: three girls in faux-fur stoles and skirts, in a bus full of granolas wearing muddy walking boots. Comical. But they were very nice people and were more than happy for us to refrain from walking and just stay in the village all day. I'm sure it was for the best.
"First impressions, you know, are so pleasant."
~ Charlotte Brontë, Villette
Oh hey Haworth.
A beautiful village with the moors in the distance.
And it was all Christmassy.
Only in Haworth...
We stopped in at this shop frequented by Charlotte Brontë.
She is my fave of the sisters. I am currently reading Villette
and so I have peppered this post with some quotes from it.
It takes me a long time to get through Brontë books because I feel
compelled to stop every few pages to write down sentences I like.
"We should accept our own lot whatever it be,
and try to render happy that of others."
~ Charlotte Brontë, Villette
Eyres 'N Graces, lolz.
Eng.
Covered in ivy.
Heading to the Brontë Parsonage.
Real-life black and white.
BRONTËS WUZ HERE.
Being sufficiently melancholy under my brolly
in homage to the most genius of fams.
{Pour your misery down on me.}
No pictures inside the house. Tragique.
The Brontës' backyard.
Brontë Meadow.
Or: where I almost started yelling "HEATHCLIFFFFFFFF."
Pretty horses.
Posing.
Brontë Country.
"Of an artistic temperament, I deny that I am;
yet I must possess something of the artist's faculty
of making the most of present pleasure:
that is to say, when it is of the kind to my taste;
I enjoyed that day, though we traveled slowly,
though it was cold, though it rained."
~ Charlotte Brontë, Villette
The Brontës' front yard.
No wonder those girls were so melancholy.
And into Haworth Churchyard.
Chains are keeping quiet secrets.
Two-hundred-year-old folklore.
And the graveyard.
On Elizabeth.
Where no one ever goes.
Kneel and pray to a gravestone.
But the gravestone never tells.
Hear the bells.
Inside the church & church cat.
Brontë vault marker.
In Memory Of Emily & Charlotte.
Curious cat.
Bad cat.
We followed the cat out of the church.
And back into town.
Strolling out the chippy.
The Black Bull, village pub frequented by
Branwell Brontë, the only son of the family.
We had an amazing Sunday roast there.
Branwell had a lot of vices and died young.
We decided that he was most definitely a hottie in real life.
Tortured soul artist and all that, his genius creativity
stifled by a village existence. You know the drill.
He painted this famous portrait of his sisters.
If you look closely at the column, you can see that he
originally included himself in the picture,
and then painted himself out. So tortured soul of him.
This apothecary was also frequented by Branwell.
And was where he fueled his laudanum addiction.
This alchemy is making me suspicious.
As I slipped you some belladonna.
That I crossed town to get, don't you know ?
Yes, my grand friend checks it.
And magical thinking gets us by...
"Mine was the game where the player cannot lose and may win."
~ Charlotte Brontë, Villette
Then we encountered these dudes.
Apparently they are "Morris Dancers."
Apparently this is some traditional Eng custom.
This scary guy, who I think was their ringleader,
kept getting all up in our faces. Needs to go.
Into another pub for some mulled wine mmmmmm.
And magical thinking gets us by...
"So peril, loneliness, an uncertain future, are not oppressive evils,
so long as the frame is healthy and the faculties are employed;
so long, especially,
as Liberty lends us her wings, and Hope guides us by her star."
~ Charlotte Brontë, Villette
so long as the frame is healthy and the faculties are employed;
so long, especially,
as Liberty lends us her wings, and Hope guides us by her star."
~ Charlotte Brontë, Villette
xx
It truly amuses me you called our lovely travel buddies "granolas."
ReplyDeleteit is not meant in a mean way! they were very nice!
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