Thick oozing mud clings to my boots at every step, pulling me towards the ground, as bristly burdock seed pods cling to my jacket, refusing to release their hold even after the most vigorous shake.
I’m on a winter walking holiday in the Yorkshire Dales and it feels as though the wildness of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights is all around me. On the first day of a four-night itinerary with tour company HF Holidays, the guide Richard leads me and seven others around Malhamdale, in the south of the region, where bubbling springs mysteriously emerge from the ground at Aire Head.
