The Red Yurt
I suppose this was a bit of a cheat weekend - an impressive waterfall a mere couple of minutes walk from your own private warm and cosy yurt...but I refuse to feel guilty because it was such a perfect set up.
There were only five yurts on site, each with their own shower room and toilet, a great little ‘campers barn’ (shared kitchen), a hot tub with the most incredible views available to book, and best of all…private access to Rainby Force on the River Swale.
Check in was pain free. Host Julia walked us to our yurt which we all ducked into so that she could show us around. Felt like a Hobbit for the weekend.
Saturday morning called for a short drive up to Britain's highest Inn - Tan Hill. This place, according to my swim buddy, had turned a remarkable corner since his previous visit back in 1989 when he had stumbled in mid-hike (the Pennine Way) and been told that all they could offer was fish fingers and that he should have called ahead.
Today's offering was white bait, which I would have tried had I been blindfolded. It was the eyes.
To be honest, it felt like the place had sold out (not of fish fingers) with cabinets full of merch and mostly reserved tables.
Our 'swim' took place later that day. As we made our way across the camp site from the yurt, swim ready, it started to rain. And when we approached the river, the noise of the waterfall burst through. I was giddy. The water was rushing and we spotted a further more ominous fall not too far down. It took a while to work out what we felt might be a 'safe' spot for a swim but it involved crossing part of the river. We clambered along the edge to a tree and very slowly made our way across, grasping on to overhanging branches to prevent being pulled along the water by the force of the stream.
Having made it to the other side we realised that if we did swim there it would take us an equally long time to make our return, and we'd probably develop hypothermia in the process so...we backed up. Eventually we plucked up the courage to wade over to the waterfall itself and took some photos to make us look braver than we were.
Running back to the yurt dripping wet was almost as dramatic as attempting to untangle underwear under a dry robe river-side.
We had hired the hot tub from 9-10:30pm. The views from the tub teamed with a bottle of red were stunning. We could have done with more moonlight...but it was otherwise a perfect evening; providing grateful contrast from the cold water and a welcome way to relax the muscles.
Swaledale Yurts...would highly recommend.
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