Britain at its best: why Marsden in Yorkshire captures the essence of this most picturesque county

After struggling to the top of Pule Hill on the Stanza Stones trail, I find myself in an old quarry with poems etched into the rock by local boy Simon Armitage. His verse appears on six stones in the South Pennine watershed.

They are all inspired by water and the one I am reading now is entitled Snow. One line reads: “Snow, like sleeping water, a coded mute to muffle all noise, slow motion, quiet time.”

Nearby is the Poets Bench on the hill, pointing towards Ilkley where the path ends. I walk to the other side of the peak to see Marsden, where I live, deep in the Colne valley.

As down to earth and determined as more famous West Yorkshire towns such as Haworth – but more authentic and less touristy – Marsden owes its growth to the wool industry. The skyline tells its own story, with two square towers on either side of a pepperpot-shaped chimney.

The mill closed decades ago and the population has since dwindled to 3,800. Six tie rods, between which material was stretched and dried after grinding, stand abandoned like tombstones of a vanished industry.

I wonder if the mill is ripe for a facelift as Marsden is surrounded by picturesque moorland owned by the National Trust, on the railway line midway between Manchester and Leeds.

It also has a strong community atmosphere. Locals gather at the grand former Institute of Mechanics, now a volunteer arts centre.

Marsden owes its growth to the wool industry, although the mill stopped decades ago, Paul reveals. Image courtesy of Creative Commons

There’s also the Riverhead Brewery Tap, a real beer bar with its own microbrewery. It is located next to a weir so you can enjoy a drink and watch ducks waddle past. A sign advertises Asian steamed buns served upstairs.

The Cuckoo Day festival with a costumed procession marks the arrival of spring here; and in October, during the famous Marsden Jazz Festival (which recently celebrated its 30th anniversary), crowds take to the streets.

The highlight of my weekend is a visit to Tunnel End, where Britain’s longest, deepest and highest Channel Tunnel begins. You can reach the end and visitor center by taking a shuttle boat from the train station, or taking a short walk along the Huddersfield Narrow Canal.

Marsden’s Riverhead Brewery Tap is located next to a weir so you can enjoy a drink and watch the ducks waddle past

Marsden is ‘hidden deep’ in the Colne Valley as pictured above

Encircled by a railway tunnel, two disused service tunnels and a spillway for a reservoir, the 3.4-mile (5.5 km) Channel Tunnel was dug over 16 years from 1795 with pickaxes, shovels and gunpowder.

Entering one of the tourist boats is like entering a combination mine, cave and sewer. Inland vessels used to be weighed down with water to lower it into the channel and create headroom.

There was not enough money to build a towpath, so the barges were propelled by “leggers” who stretched over the boats and ran against the walls.

Meanwhile, horses carried loads across the heath. I wonder who had the worst deal, the naggers or the leggers as I continue down the old pack horse path.

The sudden rattle of a stealthily passing train reminds me I’m almost back in town. Walking past the football pitch and a bandstand in Victorian Park, I’m quickly reminded of what a cozy place Marsden is.

If someone had asked me to take them somewhere that captured the essence of Yorkshire, we would have come here.