Yes, a post with pictures. Don’t faint!
I was trying to capture the snow, but it was melting so fast I just got water. Anyway, this is the view from the sitting room. Will try to get one in better weather to prove that it is truly glorious.
Snow was sticking at higher elevations.
The town is built on hills, so there are many layers.
Construction is all this dark Victorian brick.
This is not quite the town centre, but is in the village proper. Pretty sure that bus stop is close to the one I need to take to go to Halifax on Sunday.
When I walk down into the village, I’m normally on the road at the bottom that you can see with the yellow line, and then I turn at this pub (The White Lion) and go along the pedestrian street that you can see at the mid-left.
This is a school.
It is absolutely treacherous to walk around. The rock is very slippery. I’d hate to have to go out in icy conditions.
I have a staircase like this, about twice as long as that first bit to the landing, to go down to come home or to climb up to go out.
So those first pictures were taken in my walk between my house and the Spanish teacher’s house, which I found without any problems. I got a lot out of my hour and believe that I’m welcome back, but I’m definitely more advanced than the other two pupils. One had almost no Spanish and the other communicated well, but had a small vocabulary.
It was interesting to be assessed by a proper teacher. She said that I don’t make nearly as many mistakes as I think I do and that they are minor. Even with my insisting that I can barely understood a movie or follow the plot of a novel and that I have so few verb tenses, she said that I’m “fluent” on the scale of knowing a foreign language. To me, “fluent” is equal to “native proficiency,” but she says it’s actually not. She also said I need to focus on immersion and reading more rather than doing grammar drills — which I know and have been too lazy to implement. She suggested I take one-on-one private conversation lessons when I get to Mexico to work on my specific weaknesses and to spend more time reading fiction books and less time reading the newspaper and magazines so that I can start to work on following plot lines. She also suggested getting audio books that have a PDF so I can follow along as I’m reading and continue developing my ear (similar to what I’m doing when I watch something in Spanish with Spanish subtitles).
I came away feeling very surprised by this assessment.
I was going to give you a tour of the village after, but it was COLD. I blipped through a tiny bit of it, but there’s more to see.
I thought this scene looked very English:
I missed my calling.
I’m in the centre of St George’s Square.
Here’s the start of the pedestrian section. Considering how many people were out and about picking up their shrieking kids, I’m surprised it was so empty.
This is the bridge that gave the village its name.
Looking up to that school from earlier in the post.
Heading home. I believe that’s “downtown” Hebden Bridge across the river. Those blue windows and the blue door belong to a Boots (equivalent to a Walgreen’s in the US or a Shopper’s in Canada).
Everything is damp and mossy and licheny.
So many buildings are stuck together, rather like in Amsterdam. My house is a very strange concept, a long row of houses spread out over five stories. The houses at street level facing the road are large homes over several stories with many rooms. The houses at ground level, around the back, are very small with a split-level ground floor that has a kitchen/diner and a sitting room, and then a short steep staircase up to a bedroom and a bathroom. I would be fascinated to see a floor plan of how all the different units fit together. I can definitely hear the neighbours!
I would not want to drive here. It’s worse than Veliko Tarnovo!
But very pretty.
The village is 1 mile downhill from my house. I am going to get my exercise walking here. I see a lot of people with walking sticks and am rather regretting not buying one I saw on mega sale in Moab last spring, but I was doubtful it would get on the plane with me. I should probably check the charity shops here and see if I find something. My fall in Amsterdam scared me badly for all its what ifs.
At any rate, welcome to Hebden Bridge! I will show you more as I get out and about. I know I’m stuck at home again tomorrow typing, but I might have some free time over the weekend. It’s frankly cold out there and the house here is cosy, so… 🙂