Enchanted Haworth


There are some Sundays when you wake and stretch lazily, pootling to the living room for tea, blankets and curling up like a cat. Then there are Sundays when adventure calls. 

My daughter and I love to explore Yorkshire so we set off on our way to Haworth, home of the Brontë sisters, whose powerful female voices still live on today. We took a train to Keighley, then we travelled to Haworth on a bus that passed rolling hills. I always feel my heart soar when I see them, enjoying the flight from everyday life that nature gives. My daughter and I like it best when the bus announces the names of each stop. ‘Hermit Hole’ is a personal favourite. 

When we got to Haworth we started from the bottom of the cobbled Main Street. The centre of Haworth village is comprised mainly of a steep hill. We visited Spooks first, a shop I once visited as a child. I was fascinated by the magical and ethereal even then. My girl walked out clutching a paper bag full of crystals and smiling. 

We mused on how friendly everyone was. The day of our visit was an extra friendly day. I’m not sure what magic is spirited around a town when that happens, but it does sometimes and it always feels good.

We walked further up the hill and entered another shop. A fairy light lit back room drew our eyes. We saw coloured lamps and moon shaped mirrors. The man who owned the fascinating shop filled with treasures played us a bowl by striking it with a gong and circling it slowly. The bowl resounded with a vibration that traveled from our toes up through our bodies, a strange yet not unpleasant sensation. 

Yorkshire is a matter of fact, no nonsense sort of place. Yet the people there have an unmistakable  fascination with the mysterious and unexplained. Perhaps it is from the surrounding valleys and the striking nature close by. Haworth has acquired a great number of crystals in its shops of late. There is a sense of a longing for personal power and healing in the air. So many of us are seeking to wake the latent power inside us. 

pointed out the apothecary at the top of the hill to my daughter where Branwell Brontë is reputed to have once bought his opium. There is so much history in this little village that I love to share with my daughter.

I’ve walked the cobbles of Haworth many times alone, when times were very difficult for me. It provided an escape from the challenges of my life. It also inspired me. I imagined the Brontë sisters, far smaller and daintier than I, walking the streets, buying necessities in brown paper bags, passing smartly dressed gentlemen in top hats. I would think about the obstacles in their paths, the way they had to disguise their voices as those of men in order to have one. Charlotte, Anne and Emily reminded me that however small, delicate and insignificant you may seem, nothing is impossible at all. 

It was magical to walk the cobbles now with my daughter. We entered the old apothecary, now a stunning place called, ‘The Cabinet of Curiosities.’ The shop is still lined with old apothecary shelves and drawers. It is filled with candles and bath products and wonderful feminine things. It really is like a shop in a fairytale. 

On the way back home, we chewed strawberry bonbons from the quaint sweet shop at the top of the street then we climbed our way to our home which is perched on a hill too. Its always good to have an adventure, even if it is only a hop, skip and a jump away. It’s always good to come home too. 





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