It's Slawit
Up and had a decent breakfast in the Beefeater, and then faffed about getting ready. Then at noon we set off, stopping off at immense shopping centres in Warrington and St Helens, as Lorraine was in search of something which proved unobtainable. Then to Yorkshire, where people speak their minds, to Slaithwaite not far from Huddersfield. We drove on the M62, which went over windy hill, near Denshaw, apparently the highest point of any motorway in England. Some breathtaking countryside as we neared Slaithwaite, descending steeply down narrow roads of a valley from the high ground, with some amazing views. We parked up near our bed and breakfast, and carried all our stuff into a perfectly pleasant room. The owner Mike et us in and showed us to our room, and his wife, when we met her later was welcoming and friendly. Slaithwaite is one of those places pronounced very confusingly. Locals pronounce it Sla-wit, and our hostess at the BnB pronounced it Slath-wait (which Matt told us...