Quid Mirum!

The so-called Surprise View from Otley Chevin must have long since lost its element of surprise. Today was not my first visit to the Chevin but then I avoided this view. I have taken a somewhat unusual route: walking the winding path through Caley Deer Park, climbing up past the crags, spotting Almscliff Crag on the horizon, and reaching the ridge where the town of Otley stretches below, busy and ordinary. Like all overused surprises, it now feels misnamed.

The effect perhaps still works for some. From the car park nearby, the view is hidden at first. A short walk brings you to the edge, and suddenly Wharfedale opens out in front of you. That is the “surprise,” apparently. The same one often claimed to be “one of the finest sights in the country.”

You reach it via Yorkgate, a modern road that may follow the line of an old Roman route between Calcaria and Olicana—Tadcaster and Ilkley as we now call them. One imagines some Roman soldier arriving there, stopping for breath, and saying, without irony, “Quid mirum!”

Below, the River Wharfe makes its way through the valley. Described elsewhere as impetuous, here it’s more cautious, as if even it has grown weary of making an effort. It meanders quietly on towards its confluence with the Ouse.