the wonder of the wolds

I tend not to repeat walks in the countryside too often, even those I consider to be my personal favourites. However, there is one simple loop in the midst of the Yorkshire Wolds which has become a regular haunt. Perhaps this is because it's only half an hour's drive from home, or perhaps due to the fact that it has become a reliable source of 'mental space' for me, but - at any rate - I return to it (with or without the wife, but always with the dog) with a great degree of regularity.

It begins from the fairly ramshackle and none-too-memorable village of Thixendale, situated in a steep-sided valley (or 'dale') of the same name. This single-street village has little to recommend it, apart from its position among some gloriously undiscovered scenery and a suitably down-at-heel pub, the Cross Keys. Confidently advertising itself as 'The Best Pub in Thixendale' (it has, after all, not a single rival), it boasts a wary welcome from licensees Paddy and Mary, and a quintessentially Yorkshire ambience of 'no nonsense'. There's a log fire in winter, pheasant pie on the specials board if you're lucky, and a comfortably worn carpet underfoot. Don't expect any airs or graces here, but the beer is always grand and you might just force a smile from Paddy's lips by the time you leave.

The route itself - no longer than four miles and a comfortable hour-and-a-half's stroll - begins by ascending a steep track up Beamer Hill before leading you across a succession of partially hidden and seemingly 'secret' valleys, following sections of both the Centenary Way and Wolds Way, before returning to Thixendale along the beautiful expanse of Water Dale. The scenery is typical of the landscapes so vividly depicted by David Hockney in his 'Year in Yorkshire' paintings from 2005/06, all of which were painted in plein-air style on a series of huge canvases.

The Yorkshire Wolds represent the northern edge of a continuous band of chalk uplands which extend across the country from Dorset and Salisbury Plain to the Wash. They are classic chalk country at its finest, a landscape of rolling hills through which glaciers once cut a series of deep, steep-sided, flat-bottomed valleys. The unusual topography results in an 'upside-down' farming system whereby the livestock graze the valleys while the hills above are used for crops.

The landscape conveys an almost prairie-like vastness to me (especially when conditions are deliciously bleak), and is punctuated by small areas of woodland, farms and scattered villages. Sparsely populated, this area has more of a timeless feel to it than the 'honey pot' attractions of the Dales and the North York Moors. There are mercifully few 'second homers' here, although there's nowt so certain as change, as the thoroughly engaging recent novel by Richard Benson, The Farm, engagingly describes.