The second highest village in England had returned to its usual grey and dismal appearance, as I descended out of the low cloud. It had been blowing a gale all night. The school run that day was a stop start affair, stopping constantly to remove debris from the roads. I removed traffic cones, donkey bags, branches, wheelie bins and even had to upright some temporary traffic lights.
This is July. The English summer has returned to its usual unpredictable state. The weather in the North Pennines too, has reverted to type. In the heatwave it was easy to forget that the area was known for having had snow in every month of the year at odd times.
The farmers were saying that it was Autumn come early.
But I am heading south. South to France, taking a school trip to a theme park in the centre of the country. I am hoping things will improve weatherwise, or to quote the title of an H E Bates novel - Fair Stood The Wind For France.
Voyons voir!
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