Skipton: Where the Rain Never Ends (But Neither Does the Fun!)

15th August 2024

Ah, Skipton. The charming market town nestled in the Yorkshire Dales, known for its historic castle, scenic walks, and, as it turns out, rain. Lots and lots of rain. When I booked a holiday cottage in Skipton, I envisioned lasy afternoons sipping tea, wandering through quaint streets, and perhaps even frolicking in the meadows like a happy-go-lucky extra in a rom-com. Instead, I got a masterclass in British weather.

Day one: the rain began promptly at 6 a.m., as if it had set an alarm to remind me who’s boss. “No worries,” I thought, “a little rain never hurt anyone.” Armed with optimism and an umbrella I’m pretty sure was last used during the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, I set out to explore the town.

Spoiler alert: Skipton in the rain is like a scene from a British detective series—atmospheric, a bit mysterious, and you’re constantly looking over your shoulder for a suspicious character in a trench coat. I made my way to Skipton Castle, one of the best-preserved medieval castles in England. The rain added a certain medieval authenticity to the experience. I half-expected to see a knight riding by, muttering something about needing a squire with a decent brolly.

Inside the castle, I joined a tour group. There’s nothing like shuffling through ancient halls with a dozen strangers while dripping water onto 900-year-old flagstones. The tour guide cheerfully pointed out the “weather door,” which, as it turns out, was a place where people used to test how much rain was getting in. Oh, Skipton, you’ve always had your priorities straight!

By the time I exited the castle, the rain had escalated from a drizzle to a full-blown Yorkshire downpour. I considered heading back to the cottage, but the thought of spending the entire day indoors made me feel like a moody Brontë heroine—minus the windswept moors and the brooding, handsome stranger. So, I soldiered on to Skipton’s famous market.

Let me tell you, there’s something delightful about browsing market stalls in the rain. The stallholders huddled under their tarps, bravely offering soggy sausages and drenched trinkets to equally soggy tourists. I bought a woolen hat that immediately absorbed so much water it could have doubled as a sponge. But hey, it was the principle of the thing—I was supporting local business.

As the day wore on, the rain showed no signs of letting up, and I found myself retreating to a cosy café for shelter. Here, Skipton truly shines. There’s nothing quite like sipping a hot chocolate the size of your head while watching the world outside slowly turn into a scene from The Perfect Storm. The café owner, a lovely lady with the warmth of a thousand cups of tea, told me, “If you don’t like the weather in Skipton, just wait five minutes—it’ll get worse!” We laughed as I wrung out my hat.

Eventually, I made my way back to the holiday cottage, squelching with every step. The cottage itself was a haven of warmth and dry socks. I curled up by the fire with a book and listened to the rain pattering on the windows. As it turned out, the weather was the perfect excuse to do absolutely nothing, guilt-free. I didn’t have to hike, sightsee, or even leave the house. I could simply relax and enjoy the sound of nature’s white noise machine.

The next morning, I woke up to—you guessed it—more rain. But this time, I was ready. I had my waterproof gear, a plan for a day filled with indoor activities, and an attitude that was positively puddle-proof. I even made a new friend: a local duck that seemed to be following me around town. We shared a moment by the canal, both of us appreciating the fact that, in Skipton, you don’t have to worry about the weather—because it’s always reliably wet.

So, if you ever find yourself in Skipton on a rainy day, don’t despair. Embrace it. Put on your sturdiest boots, grab an umbrella (or five), and explore this charming town with all the enthusiasm of someone who knows they’re going to get soaked anyway. And when all else fails, remember: there’s always a cosy corner in a café where you can watch the rain and count your blessings that you’re not camping.