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1 day ago
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Day one: Saturday
4pm
I have picked up the Guardian and Observer photographer Gary Calton en route from Leeds to the Tan Hill Inn in North Yorkshire. This is a story I’ve been hoping to cover for years and I’m surprised it’s actually happening. We listen to the Spice Girls as we navigate the steep and winding Yorkshire Dales roads, arriving just before the sun sets. We settle in with half a pint of stout each and get chatting to the overwhelmingly friendly punters, many of whom are excited to see either the Rag ‘N’ Bone Man tribute act or the Citroen 2CV car meet that is supposed to be happening tomorrow.
7.30pm
The Rag ‘N’ Bone Man act calls to say he won’t be able to make it, followed by the Citroen 2CV car meet.
8.30pm
The pub gets word that the main northern road, the A66, will be closed at 10.30pm. Anyone not planning to stay the night should leave. The Met Office’s amber warning for snow is about to come into force and it is scheduled to last for two days.
9pm
The Tan Hill Inn is ringing with laughter and everyone is in exceptionally good spirits. Conversations get deeper, confidences are shared, memories are made. There is a great deal of novelty to being snowed in at a pub and tonight we are all confident it will not wear off.
11.45pm
At this point I’m not sure whether we’re in a lock-in or whether we’re just locked in.
Thankfully there are enough beds for everyone and there are plenty of strangers willing to share rooms. From our bunk room, I can hear a group of women from Durham having a sing-song in their camper van long into the night.
Day two: Sunday
8am
Breakfast is served in the room I was told the night before had been used as a morgue for the miners who died up here. The Tan Hill Inn has gone through various iterations but is now famous among hikers, cyclists and bikers.
No sign of the Durham women yet.
10am
There’s a lot of talk about people attempting to leave today.
1pm
Much excitement as a snowplough comes through. A couple of groups – including the impressively alert Durham women (though they leave the camper behind) - try to leave in its wake, despite the fact some of the roads have sheer cliff edges and have not been gritted. The vast majority of us still have our faculties intact and decide not to even attempt it.
2pm
Faculties come into question when I look out of the window to see a giant teddy bear cavorting with children on sledges. Other people can see him too. Apparently his name is Tan Hill Ted.
5pm
Gary keeps talking about the time he spent 12 days on a submarine somewhere in the Mediterranean for a Guardian article. I’m not sure what keeps reminding him of that.
Louise and Gary Baker, who were waved off in their camper van earlier, have returned. Louise tells us it took two 4x4s to get them out of the snow and the whole time she was shaking.
7pm
Headlights are approaching! There’s a knock on the door. In step Chelsey Frankland and Luke Batty, who have somehow managed to get here in a 4x4 from Doncaster. Silence falls as we stare at them, gobsmacked, reminiscent of that scene in the 1981 film An American Werewolf in London. In fact, it’s identical to that scene because we are in the exact room where it was filmed.
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10pm
We are amazed the bar still has alcohol left. The jokes are almost all innuendo-based now.
Day three: Monday
8.30am
Today is Agatha the dog’s birthday and she’s eating a little bowl of chopped sausages for breakfast. Everybody who walks into the bar says “happy birthday Agatha!” and gives her a little pat on her silky head.
Londoners Nathan Walker and Frederick Swift are staying in a glamping pod outside – or “the igloo”, as it has become known – and the manager, David Rowell, explains he had to dig them out this morning because they weren’t able to open the door.
10am
The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since yesterday with local, national and international press calling to speak to the Tan Hill Inn’s inhabitants.
12.30pm
We gather outside the pub for a group picture which descends into a snowball fight. I get hit in the head by a snowball, which slithers inside my coat and down the back of my neck. I pretend to find it funny while secretly vowing to get revenge on the culprit.
2pm
The snow appears to have stopped and for the first time we’re able to see how breathtaking the scenery is. A local farmer calls to say he has tried three times to get the snowplough out today but that it has been impossible. We prepare for our third night. Kelly Dunn, a member of the staff, is putting on an incredibly brave face. Tomorrow is her daughter’s 18th birthday.
4.15pm
I learn that Barry Newitt from Southend is a rock‘n’roll dancer and he offers to teach me some moves tonight. I hope he has steel toecaps, because I am not a graceful dancer.
The staff have turned the barn into a cinema and they’ve made us some popcorn. Perhaps we’ll have a quieter night tonight.
4.30pm
Paul Wright from Australia brings round a bottle of whisky.
5pm
Anyone up for karaoke?
