When I visited Yorkshire in 1971, it was principally to see York Minster. As an avid fan of English History since 8th grade, it was one of the places I listed for my husband as a MUST while he spent 9 months planning our month long private tour of Scotland and England. He taped a huge map of Great Britain to our Bridge table, set up for that whole 9 months, and meticulously planned every detail. David asked me in advance: "Which 3 places MUST you see?" I replied: Salisbury Cathedral, the Western Hebrides, and the City of York." He very carefully allotted time for each. We had planned 3 days in York, and totally unbeknowst to us, 1971 was the 1,900th anniversary of the founding of that city. So we took the train down from Edinburgh and a taxi to our hotel, The Chase. The cabdriver said, in that wonderful accent, "You ere to see tha Queen?" We nearly jumped out of our skins. She's here? She will be, tamarra. Look over there, see in that corral? Those are the horses of the Household Cavalry. They just brought em up ere from Lunndon.
And so they had! First time in over 350 years or something that they had left London. And the first time in that long or longer, I forget now, and a granddaughter now owns my journal from that trip, that the Queen had been welcomed in the City with trumpets and all. Wow! Well, we saw her. Twice. And were within 8' of her both times! What a great addition to our trip!
But basically, yes, Yorkshire is beautiful. And I had not yet read anything other than Wuthering Heights that made me yearn to see the moors. And yes, we DID visit the Bronte home. But those miles and miles and miles (we rented a car) of little green fields, no two shapes EVER precisely the same, surrounded by miles and miles and miles of grey stone walls and reaching right up to the sky, were lovely beyond words.