What, with the excitement (!! no really…) of Christmas and the impact of the festive panic, I forgot to post about my journey to Stockeld Park. The family of intrepid explorers set out on the winter solstice with heavy snowfall and temperatures reaching minus five. Added to which the experience of my mother competing in the British Bobsleigh time trials as we glided around corners and the gravitational pull steered us towards Wetherby was one that will be filed in my memory bank forever.
Unfortunately the dry ski slope was closed due health and safety. Apparently you can’t Nordic ski on snow, it’s slippery and dangerous. I bet Eddie the Eagle was never warned about this! So the natives were slightly frosty to the ticket office pixies.
Which way now... No idea!! [the old ones are the best]There was no red tape blocking our way on the Enchanted Woodland Walk though… step this way for a magical experience…through theatre, myth and mystery…
Back within the confines of retail therapy and the froth of hot chocolate I can understand why the 2000 acre estate has diversified into creating a winter wonderland. Three months of the year, you can keep the wolves from your door by exploiting the beliefs of children, pull on the purse strings of parents trying to recapture the magic, grandparents eager to please their grandchildren in an outdoor activity, anything to keep their wandering hands off the antique glass baubles. Oh yes, Stockeld Park has tastefully marketed Christmas without losing the charm of it’s it rural idyll.
The delightful home of the bad tempered Figgy Pudding!
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