Ow do? Putting the myth into Mytholmroyd pronunciation - Susan Morrison

A pub on the Sowerby to Marsden stretch of the Rochdale canal

We were aboard an incredibly slow moving narrowboat between Sowerby and Hebden, and so we chugged past many a rambler and dog walker. As in Scotland, all greetings had to be returned appropriately.

Like Scotland, Yorkshire boasts a lot of places that cannot be properly pronounced unless you are native-born, and can trace your lineage back at least six generations. It probably dates back to the days of inter-tribal warfare. After all, it would be easy to flush out a spy if they can’t pronounce Mytholmroyd correctly. And yes, I am aware that I am a member of a nation that has a roll-call of place names ready to trap the unwary. We’d have clocked Soviet spies the minute they asked for directions to Auchenshuggle or Milngavie

They don’t seem to have seagulls, which is odd. What they have instead are huge honking geese with serious anger management issues. Tell you what, it’s a brave fool who says boo to a goose. They’ll go after you like deranged teen Swifties avenging a slight to Taylor’s name.

Yorkshire folk are much the same as the Scots. Chatty, friendly and helpful. And just like us, every now and then, they do like to amuse themselves by poking mild fun at the tourists.

For dinner one evening we found one of those strange little Tardis pubs. It looks tiny from the outside, but when you go in there are passageways off to the left and right, wonky walls and endless cosy side rooms. They did food. In fact, the sign up above the bar said ‘New Menu’.

“Oh, how nice”, I said. “And what’s new about your menu?” Yes, I admit it, I did sound a tad patronising.

The woman behind the bar glanced up at the sign, glanced back to me and said, “We’ve had them laminated.”

I am pleased to say that the food, from whatever menu, was brilliant.