I never need an excuse to escape to the countryside, but if was to have one then a super, popular scarecrow festival would fit the bill perfectly. On the edges of the Yorkshire Dales lies the rural village of Kettlewell which puts on an almighty display of straw filled figures every summer. When I lived at home we used to head to a nearby town to wander round their Scarecrow festival on an evening so really it was the ideal continuation of tradition.
In true Beth-Jason fashion we didn't take into consideration that the heavens had opened the day before, so sandals and boat shoes weren't the most sensible of footwear choices. Luckily for me, I had some wellies in the boot but no socks. Even luckier for me, there was a walking shop so I now have some £12-worth woolly grey socks that make my feet feel like they have their own radiator. Unluckily for Jason he had to stick to his boat shoes, but we did pretty well in avoiding the mud.
With a trail sheet in our hands, we set off on a self-guided tour with 50% of our time spent admiring the scarecrows. The other 50% of our time was spent peering into people's homes, looking up cottages that were for sale and deciding what our scarecrow entry would be. It's safe to say when it comes to villages, Kettlewell is the place of dreams or as some would say #futuregoals.
{I also learnt to skim stones here, so if that isn't a good enough reason, what is?}
{I also learnt to skim stones here, so if that isn't a good enough reason, what is?}