Neil Hanson's Blog - Posts Tagged "tan-hill-inn"
Back On Top!
I was up at the highest inn in Great Britain http://www.tanhillinn.com a couple of days ago and was delighted to find it in rude good health. It’s been through a couple of changes of management over the past year or so, not always with ideal results, but a new couple have now taken over the inn and the early signs are very promising.
The first thing that I noticed when I arrived is that the inn has not only been redecorated, but is also cleaner than it’s been in ages. The flagstone floors - dark grey shading into black on my last visit - have now been resorted to their original sandstone colour with all the accumulated dirt removed, and the rest of the pub has had a similarly vigorous clean up. The new owners are warm, friendly and welcoming, and seem to have the drive and enthusiasm to make Tan Hill again a top inn for more than mere reasons of altitude.
The weather was perfect too and when the skies are clear up there you feel like you can see forever, with the moors stretching away unbroken to the horizon. And if you pick a clear, moonless night to go up there, you’ll see an array of stars that is unequalled anywhere else in England. There’s no light pollution at Tan Hill and at 1732 feet ASL there’s a bit less atmosphere between you and the stars too. So you can see more stars than you can shake a shepherd’s crook at, including the Milky Way in all its glory and if you’re really lucky, you might also get a spectacular display of the Northern Lights; it only happens once or twice a year this far south of the Arctic Circle, but when it does it’s a jaw-dropper.
The first thing that I noticed when I arrived is that the inn has not only been redecorated, but is also cleaner than it’s been in ages. The flagstone floors - dark grey shading into black on my last visit - have now been resorted to their original sandstone colour with all the accumulated dirt removed, and the rest of the pub has had a similarly vigorous clean up. The new owners are warm, friendly and welcoming, and seem to have the drive and enthusiasm to make Tan Hill again a top inn for more than mere reasons of altitude.
The weather was perfect too and when the skies are clear up there you feel like you can see forever, with the moors stretching away unbroken to the horizon. And if you pick a clear, moonless night to go up there, you’ll see an array of stars that is unequalled anywhere else in England. There’s no light pollution at Tan Hill and at 1732 feet ASL there’s a bit less atmosphere between you and the stars too. So you can see more stars than you can shake a shepherd’s crook at, including the Milky Way in all its glory and if you’re really lucky, you might also get a spectacular display of the Northern Lights; it only happens once or twice a year this far south of the Arctic Circle, but when it does it’s a jaw-dropper.
Secret Britain
Spoiler alert: I watched a programme called Secret Britain on BBC TV the other night, mainly because it included a segment on The Inn at the Top, aka the Tan Hill Inn (http://www.tanhillinn.com/). However, the programme was one of the most excruciating “hours of my life I’ll never get back” that I’ve ever experienced. There were all the usual tropes of programme making 21st-century-style: say everything six times, use the same clips over and over, talk down to your audience, never hold any shot or topic for a more than a few seconds in case your low attention span audiences switches channels, convey breathless excitement at even the least exciting things, and, of course, have your presenters “amusingly” try their hands at all sorts of things because just showing us something without a hyper-active presenter in the foreground would be too dull to be true.
There were two presenters, one blonde, one redhead, one male, one female, and they can’t possibly be as dumb as they appeared to be in this program. Quite apart from the irritating way they…
kept finishing…
each other’s…
sentences… as if auditioning for the Whicker’s Island sketch on Monty Python, the script was so infantile that it would have embarrassed an eight year-old. As one of my customers in the Dales remarked to me the next day ‘I used to watch Blue Peter when I was young, and they had more respect for the intelligence of their audience than Secret Britain’.
The USP of the programme is that it is showing Secret Britain: things we never knew about our country. To emphasise this, the presenters had clearly been instructed to use the word “secret” every thirty seconds and everything was presented as a secret and a mystery to be solved even when it self-evidently was not.
The absolute nadir was reached when they arrived at the Tan Hill Inn. The blonde presenter told us that a clue to the secret of Tan Hill was hanging on the wall of the inn. It was a map of the old coal mines that used to surround the inn. After switching to another storyline for a few minutes - see previous comments about the perceived attention span of their audience - the blonde presenter went outside to investigate and - you’re not going to believe this - discovered that there actually used to be coal mines around Tan Hill!!!! Amazing!!!! as both presenters seems to say about everything, evidently not being articulate enough to think of another word. Sorry to spoil the secret for you.
After chewing the cushions, hiding behind the sofa and hurling abuse at the TV for forty minutes, I’d had enough and switched it off and I won’t be going back no matter how many “secrets” they promise to reveal. Lord Reith must be spinning so fast in his grave by now that he’s probably drilled his way down to Australia by now. If you don’t believe how awful Secret Britain is, and you’ve got some spare time you’ve no further use for, here’s the link: (http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/...)
There were two presenters, one blonde, one redhead, one male, one female, and they can’t possibly be as dumb as they appeared to be in this program. Quite apart from the irritating way they…
kept finishing…
each other’s…
sentences… as if auditioning for the Whicker’s Island sketch on Monty Python, the script was so infantile that it would have embarrassed an eight year-old. As one of my customers in the Dales remarked to me the next day ‘I used to watch Blue Peter when I was young, and they had more respect for the intelligence of their audience than Secret Britain’.
The USP of the programme is that it is showing Secret Britain: things we never knew about our country. To emphasise this, the presenters had clearly been instructed to use the word “secret” every thirty seconds and everything was presented as a secret and a mystery to be solved even when it self-evidently was not.
The absolute nadir was reached when they arrived at the Tan Hill Inn. The blonde presenter told us that a clue to the secret of Tan Hill was hanging on the wall of the inn. It was a map of the old coal mines that used to surround the inn. After switching to another storyline for a few minutes - see previous comments about the perceived attention span of their audience - the blonde presenter went outside to investigate and - you’re not going to believe this - discovered that there actually used to be coal mines around Tan Hill!!!! Amazing!!!! as both presenters seems to say about everything, evidently not being articulate enough to think of another word. Sorry to spoil the secret for you.
After chewing the cushions, hiding behind the sofa and hurling abuse at the TV for forty minutes, I’d had enough and switched it off and I won’t be going back no matter how many “secrets” they promise to reveal. Lord Reith must be spinning so fast in his grave by now that he’s probably drilled his way down to Australia by now. If you don’t believe how awful Secret Britain is, and you’ve got some spare time you’ve no further use for, here’s the link: (http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/...)
Sheepish
If you're at a loose end today and fancy a little trip "Oop Dale" you can catch one of the great Yorkshire experiences: the annual sheep show - the Swaledale sheep-breeders' World Cup - at the The Inn at the Top, aka Tan Hill. The usual country show clutter of craft and cake stalls is notable by its absence from Tan Hill. Rather than tourist trinkets, there are a handful of stalls selling wellies, foul weather gear, shepherds' crooks, veterinary products and farm supplies like "Two Gallons of Battle’s Summer Dip", "One Bag of Minerals", and "Five Litres Top Clip Worm Drench", but that's pretty much it apart from the pens of sheep and the men who breed them. If, to the untrained eye at least, the sheep look virtually indistinguishable from each other, all with peaty-coloured, off- white fleeces, black faces and white noses, the farmers - or at least the clothing they wear - tend to be just as identical, all clad in flat caps, tweed jackets, moleskin trousers, wellingtons and Barbour-type coats.
The sheep show at the inn might look homespun and unassuming, compared to the village shows elsewhere in the Yorkshire Dales, let alone the Great Yorkshire Show at Harrogate, or the Royal Show in the days when it was held every year, but as one farmer said to me, back in my days at the inn, ‘There are classes for our sheep at the Royal Show, but the winner there might not even get a ticket [an entry] to this show. This is where you’ll see the best tups and yows to be found anywhere.’
If the sheep don't tickle your fancy, the Lofthouse and Middlesmoor silver band from Nidderdale will be playing as they have since the very first show in 1951, when they happened to be passing on their way back from a concert elsewhere, and stopped to see what was going on. Inside the inn, the bar will be doing an absolutely roaring trade. If the weather's dry and the wind isn't howling over the "tops", get yourself a pint, perch up on the fellside and listen to the band playing the local anthem: "Beautiful Dale". When the last notes fade away, all you'll hear is the liquid song of the curlew, the gabbling calls of the grouse, the monotone piping of the golden plovers nesting among the tussocks of heather and the beautiful song of the lark raining down from the sky above you - only occasionally interrupted by the noise of the farmers arguing about the judges' choice of the supreme champion sheep. Enjoy!
The sheep show at the inn might look homespun and unassuming, compared to the village shows elsewhere in the Yorkshire Dales, let alone the Great Yorkshire Show at Harrogate, or the Royal Show in the days when it was held every year, but as one farmer said to me, back in my days at the inn, ‘There are classes for our sheep at the Royal Show, but the winner there might not even get a ticket [an entry] to this show. This is where you’ll see the best tups and yows to be found anywhere.’
If the sheep don't tickle your fancy, the Lofthouse and Middlesmoor silver band from Nidderdale will be playing as they have since the very first show in 1951, when they happened to be passing on their way back from a concert elsewhere, and stopped to see what was going on. Inside the inn, the bar will be doing an absolutely roaring trade. If the weather's dry and the wind isn't howling over the "tops", get yourself a pint, perch up on the fellside and listen to the band playing the local anthem: "Beautiful Dale". When the last notes fade away, all you'll hear is the liquid song of the curlew, the gabbling calls of the grouse, the monotone piping of the golden plovers nesting among the tussocks of heather and the beautiful song of the lark raining down from the sky above you - only occasionally interrupted by the noise of the farmers arguing about the judges' choice of the supreme champion sheep. Enjoy!
Look North
A really nice piece on "Pigs Might Fly" and the real life "Inn at the Top" (aka Tan Hill), filmed by Philip Chapman , was broadcast on BBC TV's Look North (the North-East and Cumbria version) last night. If you're quick you can catch it here till 7pm today (Thursday13th August)
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/...
It contains a few clips from a documentary made back in the 1980s when I owned the inn, and the frighteningly young-looking protagonist brought back memories of the daily struggle to start the generator and dropping down through a hole in a snow drift considerably taller than my six foot four inches, in search of the water pump. Happy days?!
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/...
It contains a few clips from a documentary made back in the 1980s when I owned the inn, and the frighteningly young-looking protagonist brought back memories of the daily struggle to start the generator and dropping down through a hole in a snow drift considerably taller than my six foot four inches, in search of the water pump. Happy days?!
