The worst view in the world, or across the Penines and back.

  Once every few weeks, I squeeze out of a narrow parking bay in York and creep between rows of silent cars as I travel a well worn strip of tarmac. When I reach the end, I twist around for one final, lingering, glance, before I once more stretch my heart across 120 miles and 2 countries. Every … More The worst view in the world, or across the Penines and back.