One of the highest market towns in England, Hawes in about fifteen miles further into Wensleydale than where we live. It is a thriving little town with its own shops, a thriving Auction Mart which is a centre for Swaledale sheep, and a permanent air of being a holiday town. Even in the middle of Winter you rarely go through Hawes without there being several coach loads of tourists wandering around.
We needed to go to Hawes today, and knowing that in addition to plenty of tourist coaches there would also be the inevitable hordes of motor cyclists who go there on Sunday mornings and congregate in one or other of the outside cafes, we went very early.
It was a lovely journey, as it always is. And, as usual, I thought about how living here makes us take the scenery forgranted, whereas if we were up here on holiday we would be looking at the fields full of sheep, the river, the hills, the ancient buildings and gasping at the beauty of it all.
I took a couple of photos going into Hawes. The Tour de France went through the outskirts of the town and the inhabitants really decorated the town for the occasion. They have left the bunting, the hanging baskets, the yellow bikes in place for the Summer - and what a lovely place it looks.
It will be different in the middle of Winter, when its height makes it prone to snow, rain, strong winds and bitterly cold weather. But let's enjoy it while it is there.
The biggest downside I suppose to living up there is that it is so far from anywhere. A visit to hospital means a journey of around just under sixty miles.