An evening stroll to see the vertical face of Malham Cove. It’s magnificent; standing at around seventy-nine metres of sheer rock, the top of the cove is a strange pattern of blocks of limestone. We could hear jackdaws, but knew it was too soon to see the pair of peregrine falcons or house martins that nest during the summer months. We did, however, see two mallard ducks strutting around the nearby stream, who eyed us for a minute or so before realising we had nothing for them, and strutted off.

Only one stile to clamber over … which made such a change (this is a hint of foreshadowing for the next walk… and the perils of a cavalier attitude towards stiles and the advancement of age!)

Formed along the line of the Middle Craven Fault, Malham Cove has been eroded back by the action of water and ice over millions of years. As glaciers moved forward they gauged rocks from the face of the Cove and carried them away. Then, each time the glaciers melted, the torrents of water also eroded the face of the Cove in the form of a massive waterfall.

The water flows underground now, then emerges as a shallow rocky stream.

There was no one else around… we thought … until we heard voices echoing eerily around the amphitheatre. Two men abseiling down the rock face (see them? Tiny figures perilously hanging from ropes?). I’m sure they knew what they were doing.. probably!

‘I’d like to do that,’ said the photographer.

‘No, you wouldn’t,’ I said. (Mind you, I have seen him hanging (also perilously) over the cliffs at home in Pembrokeshire just to get, “that brilliant shot” – so I know he’d be daft enough to have a go)

‘So … what’s tomorrow?’ I asked, as we plodded back over the stile and scrambled up a short rocky path to a field where a herd of cows watched with interest. And then followed us … closely (What is it with us and cows?)

‘I’ve found a good walk where there’s a gorgeous waterfall on the way.’

‘What do you mean, “On the way?”‘

He didn’t answer…