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The place Yamna is visiting is fictional. These images above are from various parts of Yorkshire, and are only used to give you a glimpse of the kind of place that she is visiting.
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Yamna
I glanced out of the coach window at the beauty of the mountains of Yorkshire.
England, in many ways, is underrated in my opinion. London tends to steal all the attention. But England overall is beautiful. It's natural beauty, rich history, and places where you literally feel like you've travelled back in time.
We arrived in one such town, with its cobblestone streets and buildings representing the various eras, for example Victorian, Edwardian, Tudor, etc. Ivy climbed up the walls of some buildings, while many houses were adorned with beautiful flowers, proudly blooming with the arrival of Spring.
"Yorkshire has its own share of famous literature based here. For example Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and many more. The area creates a sense of mystery and romanticism in many ways." The lecturer accompanying is, Ms Wang, announced. "Can anyone tell us how aspects of Yorkshire can be used to create such elements in literature?"
I raised my hand. "The mountains, and I'm guessing the fog that must be regular here?"
"Absolutely! Fog itself is a strong metaphor for mystery. And can anyone explain further how the mountains can be used?"
A guy at the front answered this time. "Mountains sort of create a feeling of inferiority for humans. Like how small are we in this beautiful nature? There's a sense of awe in it. I suppose it can be used to represent love itself."
"How so?" Ms Wang looked curious and intrigued.
"It's a force greater than us, it overpowers us, we are in awe of it, and yet it's a great endeavour for people to reach its peak. Sounds like love to me."
"I absolutely love your answer!" Ms Wang looked thrilled. "So, as bonus, not mandatory, but I would it if you guys write a fictional piece based right here. It can be any genre, but make sure that the surrounding nature, or the historical richness of this place, is emphasised strongly in your work."
Nisha grinned at me and whispered. "Let me guess, you're already plotting ideas?"
"You know me." I smiled back.
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We got settled into our Bed & Breakfast. Half of us were in one B&B, while the rest were in another one across the road.
Once we'd had our dinner, which was six-thirty and not desi time, we were informed that there was a special night tour booked for us, based on the hauntings and mysteries of this town. The older a place, the more ghost stories and 'supernatural sightings' it contained, real or not. And people loved it. In the dark, walking through this old and historical village, it did feel like someone or something was going to jump out at us.
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