This fine, North Yorkshire town is named from the old word for sheep, of course, and not a reputation for the locals rummaging around in the refuse...
'Have you seen Harry?'
Aye, he's in t'skip!
'Harry? he's skip t'in?'
Not that you, Harry or whoever would ever be inclined to for there's a famously good-value market here most days where you can buy a competitively priced shirt and\or 100 metres of tin foil.
That makes it one of the few commodities that's actually quicker to run than unravel.
What is noticeable is just how Northern this place is. SlyBob hail from even more north of here but found them practically unintelligible...
'What's that Skipp(ton)y? There's been an explosion at t'brewery and boss is up to his oxters in Fosters?'
Just glad to hear he's OK and he didn't 'top his clogs'.
A popular chain in these parts and a modern take on the conventional curry in what could be a nightclub. See also Akbar's if you're from even more north.
This is very much canal country. There's a branch that takes you along to Skipton Castle and where this meets the main Leeds & Liverpool, there's a nice towpath-y vibe.
There are guided, watery tours here with one offering 'rib-tickling' recorded commentary by none other than Lancashire's Dave Spikey. Pushed for time, the invite had to be declined opting instead to just watch the busy waterway for a while. One of the skippers, gingerly attempting a reverse mooring needed a guide in...
'Ow am I thur?'
You're a foot in front!
Yes, it looks like a difficult manoeuvre but there's no need for that kind of language! That, by the way, is © None other than Lancashire's Dave Spikey but all this talk of water is pretty thirsty work, eh?
It might look like someone's front room but these guys are genuinely 'crafty'. As far as SlyBob are concerned, there are no other pubs in Skipton now.
They used to have a small 'tap' in Skipton with tours available but then they moved to Keighley so now they don't. They used to, still might?, have it on in the Rendezvous, see below, where it managed to travel the 200 yards well.
They're still a staple in Skipton but keep a lookout for them in your local.
The Spoons have a tradition of naming their pubs based on the history of the town or the old building they invariably inhabit. The inevitable offering in a town of this size is called the Devonshire because it was formerly the Devonshire Inn.
There are no awards for their nearly-out-of-date ale and the Director of Contrived Waterhole Naming was clearly on holiday or couldn't be bothered to get out of bed that day. Whoever deputised on that decision is getting an immediate (0/5) and they might as well have stayed in bed themselves that morning.
The old cotton mills are long since defunct but rather than lament their demise, looking at you Sting and Jimmy Nail re: The River Tyne, they've been converted for the retail and the residential.
Despite hailing from near Doncaster, legendary Yorkshire cricketer Fred Trueman, RIP, adopted Skipton as his home. There's a bronze statue in his honour near here but just like one of fiery Fred's fast, full tosses, we didn't even see it.
Aye, I'll sithee.
Family run, excellent-value lodgings and unexpectedly good canalside dining. Pre-dinner drinks saw a bathrobed couple who'd clearly been on the sauce all day. Saucy it got until all were just a flannelette's width away from a full floor show.
'Bit awkward that...' said the barman, 'We've a wedding tomorrow and she's t'bride!'