I Belong Here by Anita Sethi;

Author:Anita Sethi;
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781472983961
Publisher: Bloomsbury UK (Trade)

I arrive into Horton as sunlight is gleaming over the summit of Pen-y-Ghent, which looms out proud and magnificent and looking very much alive, like a pale green humpback whale. By now, I am exhausted and cannot even imagine climbing a flight of stairs let alone a mountain – or rather ‘fell’. (It is somewhat controversial whether Pen-y-Ghent classifies as a mountain, although digital maps describe it as such and I shall too.) I walk up a steep road following my OS map and then pass by The Crown pub and see the sign marking ‘Pen-y-Ghent Cafe on the Pennine Way’. It is a sense of achievement to reach this. Before I set off on this journey, when it seemed to be merely a pipe dream, I had lain in bed with the inertia that anxiety and depression can bring, feeling as if I could barely move my fingertips, let alone walk hundreds of kilometres up footpaths and fells. I had looked up images of the Pennine Way and seen pictures of this sign’s white and gold letters on a black background, so it is amazing to actually see it in real life, its letters glinting in the sun. I rest for a while, peeling off my portable home, and realise how parched I am. I make my way to the cafe, longing for a cold lemonade, but it is closed so I continue walking, looking for Horton Women’s Holiday Centre, where I have been hoping for a bed. I know that if I don’t get a proper night’s sleep I won’t be able to continue my journey.

I keep walking in the direction of Pen-y-Ghent itself, which looms ever closer, but I can see no sign of the women’s centre even though my map shows a blue heartbeat telling me I am all but there. I see a small shop and buy a cold lemonade. I look at cards – one with a picture of a sheep reads: ‘Ey-up Somebody Bleated It’s Yer Baarthday!’; I gaze at one of bluebell woods at Cleatops near Settle, with deep purple fields – I want to step inside that picture and walk through those bluebell woods. I finally find my destination, marvelling at how close it is to the Pennine Way, right on its very doorstep. The deep emerald-coloured door is slightly ajar and I push it open and step inside, delighted to discover that they do have a spare bed and I can stay the night.

‘Help yourself to tea and food,’ says a lady who works there. We chat for a while and she asks me about my journey. She tells me about the history of the holiday centre, how it began as a place of refuge, the only place of its kind, established in 1980 as a co-operative by women involved in feminism and the women’s liberation movement, and has made a difference to thousands of women from all walks of life who otherwise would not be able to afford a holiday, including many single-parent families.

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