A holiday in Halifax, England (Well more of a day out) . [1] [2] [3] [4]

 

 

As I unlocked the front door and stepped into the hallway, Mr Kipling came to meet me with sad eyes. I could immediately tell that something was wrong by the expression on his face, but said nothing. He waited for me to say something, continuing to stare at me. I sighed and said, “I’m very sorry.”


        Mr Kipling was my five year old basset hound. Due to a heavy work load, I had been in the office for most of that morning and hadn’t taken Mr Kipling for a walk. In fact, Mr Kipling hadn’t been on a walk for a few days. It was true that he had put on a few pounds: he had grown a little chubby around the middle. As he gazed sadly at me, I immediately got an idea. We would go away for the weekend. Yes, that would give both Mr Kipling and me a healthy walk. Running upstairs I packed a bag and joined Mr Kipling at the bottom of the stairs. Giving him an affectionate pat on the head, I carried him into the passenger seat of the old red Polo and we set off up the road.

We decided on Halifax, located in West Yorkshire, just 20 minutes from the city of Bradford. Or rather, Mr Kipling decided on Halifax when he barked at the sign indicating the turn off for the town. We drove down into Halifax via the long, winding road which seems to carry on forever before suddenly turning into a normal main road through the town. So, what were my first impressions of Halifax? Well, it reminded me of a bowl of soup. Surrounding it were numerous hills and moors, and lying nestled in the valley were Stainland, Elland, Garstang and of course Halifax.


      It certainly looked like an old industrial town, with its hundreds of mills almost everywhere you looked, some of them still with their chimneys dominating the town’s skyline. It definitely looked like an interesting place, with some fascinating history involving the industrial revolution. However, my first port of call was stopping in Shibden Park to give Mr Kipling some time to run around, stretch his legs and lose some weight. Shibden Park was beautiful: a vast pond sat in the middle, overlooked by Shibden Hall. The hall was sadly closed when we visited but Mr Kipling and I sat on the lawn overlooking the lake, both of us eating ice cream cones underneath the warm sun. Afterwards we took one of the paths around the park, appreciating the huge oak trees and lush greenery and plants. Mr Kipling particularly appreciated the grass and the trunks of trees, which he decided he would sniff on every given opportunity. Feeling satisfied that my basset hound had managed to burn some calories, we hopped back into the car towards Halifax town centre.

 

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