My late wife and I set up our first home just on the Lancashire side of the boundary with the Yorkshire Dales National Park. Being born and bred in the Red Rose County where the loyal toast is not to Her Majesty the Queen, but to her regional title as the Duke of Lancaster, we first thought we might need passports whenever we ventured over to Skipton and all points north. But eventually due to the closeness of the land of our cricketing White Rose rivals we developed a love and affection for the Dales as they call it up there, an affection that never went away.
In their wisdom, Winchester Ramblers Group once asked me to lead one of their Sunday walks. Being a stranger to the area, I decided to take them on a walk in the Meon Valley (see Walk 17 in this guide), close to where we were living at the time. One of my instructions was to find a lunch stop half way along the walk.