Woolly says – We were off on a mini adventure, actually we were heading for an interview to secure work for next year but being us, we decided to make the most of the time away and take in some of the attractions. ‘The road is long, With a many a winding turn, That leads us to who knows where, Who knows where’, actually it was motorways one after another which is Jo’s least favourite means of getting anywhere so Alfie the Dog and I sat in the back of the car quieting singing as junction after junction passed and we headed to Yorkshire.

If motorway driving wasn’t bad enough having a strangled cat and a tuneless dog in the rear was actually worse.

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Woolly says – After what seemed like decades with only minor problems enroute…running out of engine oil being one of them…we finally pulled into the required carpark and escaped from the car and into the fresh air. Taking a few moments to admire the picturesque view of Knaresborough and its viaduct we wandered along the river towards our destination.

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Set in the Royal Forest of Knaresborough on the banks of the River Nidd (isn’t that the best name ever for a river) is Mother Shipton’s Cave the oldest tourist attraction to charge a fee in England which has been open since 1630. The path took us through a wonderful array of trees gradually changing colours as winter approaches, we paused at the weir which had provided power for the old mill which had been built in 1791 to produce paper as well as producing the first piped water for the town in 1764. It was tranquil and once the panting beast had paddled to his hearts content we moved onwards.

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A group of coin trees caught my attention, over the centuries people had buried coins in their trunks to bring them good luck and looking at the amount of coinage in these splendid specimens my luck would be in if I could prize the silver and gold out of them, before I could get to work my carer chivvied me onwards.

We paused at a viewing place which formed the top of the Petrifying Well below us and eager to see what it was all about I raced down the steps to feast my eyes on the magical water.

It is said that the mystical powers of the water turns all it touches to stone, so I was very careful to avoid stepping to close just in case they added a mammoth to the stone collection. The water of the well is so rich in sulphate and carbonate that artefacts may be put in the well to be “petrified” or encrusted, over the centuries many items have been left including a Victorian top hat and a lady’s bonnet left in 1853 and now indistinguishable from the rock itself. Items are still left there today and it was interesting to see the various states of some of the possessions that had been contributed.

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For over 6000 years the water has created this unusual phenomenon and for many it is thought to have had healing properties although today’s doctors wouldn’t recommend drinking it for your health.

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Up a small set of steps was the wishing well with instructions on how to make your wish come true: Place your right hand or paw in the water, make your wish but don’t ask for money or for harm towards others, don’t tell anyone what you have wished for, remove your hand or paw and allow it to dry naturally and then wait for your wish to come true. I’m waiting, so let’s see what happens.

Slightly further along the path led us to the place where the tales had started, that of Mother Shipton herself.

Mother Shipton was born Ursula Southeil in 1488, during the reign of Henry VII. Although little is known about her parents, legend has it that she was born during a violent thunderstorm in a cave when her mother, Agatha, was just fifteen years old. Agatha had been thrown out of her home as she refused to name the father of the baby and took refuge in the cave when the birth became imminent. With no family and no friends to support her, Agatha raised Ursula in the cave on her own for two years before the Abbott of Beverley took pity on them and a local family took Ursula in. Agatha was taken to a nunnery far away, where she died some years later. She never saw her daughter again.

Ursula grew up around Knaresborough. She was a strange child, both in looks and in nature. Her nose was large and crooked, her back bent and her legs twisted. Just like a witch. She was taunted and teased by the local people and so in time she learnt she was best off on her own. She spent most of her days around the cave where she was born. There she studied the forest, the flowers and herbs and made remedies and potions with them. When she was twenty-four she met a young man by the name of Tobias Shipton. He was a carpenter from the city of York. Tobias died a few years later, before they had any children, but Ursula kept his name, Shipton. Mother Shipton, as she became known, was legendary for her powers and prophecies including the prediction that London would burn in 1665 (The Great Fire of London), that ships would be made from iron, that carriages would go without horses and that men would ride, sleep and talk underwater.

She sounded amazing and along with her far reaching prophecies she also lived until the ripe old age of 73 which in those times was several decades longer than normal. As we stood in the cave where she was born it was easy to imagine how cold and grim it must have been to not only have a child there but to bring one up.

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We headed towards the museum and it’s many displays of ‘petrified’ items, it was fascinating from John Wayne’s cowboy hat, Agatha Christies handbag, John Cravens (a children’s’ television presenter that Jo knows about), an Ewok donated by Warwick Davies to Queen Mary’s shoe, everything had been turned to stone.

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Having gazed at everything it had to offer we left the museum and returned through the forest where Halloween was in full building mode with dragons and witches arriving in place and enough skeletons to host a party at Wembley.

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Just as I thought it was all over my heart skipped a beat and I sat staring lovingly at the small mammoth sized Romany van, perfect for me and even room for a friend or two to stay, I sat in the doorway watching Jo and Alfie the Dog depart before settling down for a comfy night’s sleep.