Moorish splendour in North Yorkshire

But we're not Brontë heroines and our idea of a good weekend involves pouring wine rather than rain, so imagine what a welcome sight the warmly lit Feversham Arms presented as we pulled up in Helmsley half an hour later; how reassuring the sound of chattering voices floating out from the bar, and the smell of a tasty dinner being prepared in the kitchen. We immediately made our way through to the restaurant and settled down to a meal of epic proportions: smoked mackerel, sea bass, Scottish venison, Yorkshire beef – and lashings of red wine, chosen from the hefty 23-page wine list.

Often a disadvantage of weekends away in the countryside is that you need a car to be able to go anywhere and do anything; not in Helmsley. The pretty market town, with a burbling stream running between lanes of skewiff old cottages, offers not only a remarkable number of gift shops and tea rooms, but there's a stately home and even a ruined castle on the doorstep, and all variety of dilapidated abbeys, walled gardens and historic manor houses within walking distance across the moors. There's even a fashion boutique', Penina's – if your idea of a stylish outfit involves imperial purple satin with gold buttons. We opted for a wander around the impressive parkland of Duncombe Park, home to the local bigwig, the Earl of Feversham, where a big antiques fair was taking place, before heading down to Helmsley Castle for an adventure.

With the sun now shining hard and bright, the castle, or what's left of it, was a spectacular sight. A fascinating mixture of a medieval fortress, Tudor manor house and Victorian folly, hundreds of cawing rooks were perched on its crumbling main tower, adding a suitably macabre soundtrack to the spooky surroundings. We clambered over the remains of sturdy ramparts, down damp, slimy steps into the bowels of the castle and gazed up inside a Tudor tower four floors high, complete with its original fireplaces, stone window frames and doorways.

Desperately in need of warmth, we retreated to the tiny Pickwick Bar on the market square, squeezing into a spot next to the open fire. The pub was packed with ruddy-faced men in plus fours and woolly stockings, drying out after a day's shooting; a convivial, testosterone-filled gathering fuelled by innumerable pints of ale. I half-expected James Herriot to make an appearance in a three-piece tweed suit, hands still bloody from saving the life of some unfortunate beast. Outside, a pair of plump, satisfied Germans who had choppered in for a day's sport, and were kitted out head-to-toe in Purdey's finest, puffed plumes of fragrant cigar smoke into the frozen air.

Feeling hardier the next morning, we laughed off the rain and braved the two-mile walk to Rievaulx Abbey. Founded in 1135, the Cistercian abbey, once one of the wealthiest in England, has long been renowned for its peaceful setting, as immortalised by a resident monk over 800 years ago: Everywhere peace, everywhere serenity and a marvellous freedom from the tumult of the world.' But with Henry VIII's dissolution of monasteries in the 1530s, Rievaulx was systematically destroyed, the lead roof of the main church (which otherwise survives impressively well) dismantled and all its treasures removed. In spite of this, the whole retains a striking grandeur and, surrounded by woods and gently rolling fields, its peaceful serenity endures.

We clumped back along the muddy track to Helmsley, soaked through and hungry and agreeing that there was only one thing for it – tea and cake, even if it was nearly lunchtime. Squelching into the Castlegate Café, steam rising from our chilled limbs, we settled down to great slabs of homemade fruit cake and congratulated ourselves on having such robust natures that we could manage to walk a whole four miles on the rainy moors before ducking into the nearest teashop. Those Brontë girls would have been very impressed.

WHERE TO STAY
Converted from several village houses, the cosy Feversham Arms (left) is set around an outdoor pool courtyard. The 33 rooms range from regular doubles to Spa Suites'; all have flatscreen TVs and are stocked with DVDs and CDs. There are L'Occitane products in the bathrooms. Dogs are welcome. The hotel chef, Simon Kelly, trained with Michel Roux at The Waterside Inn in Bray and the food is excellent, with an emphasis on using local produce – game, cheeses, lamb and beef. Rates start from £150 B&B (fevershamarmshotel.com).

GETTING THERE
Grand Central runs regular trains from London King's Cross to Thirsk daily. Journey time is around 2½ hours. Return tickets from £63 (grandcentral rail.co.uk). From Thirsk, it's a 30-minute drive to Helmsley.

WHAT TO DO
The Feversham Arms has a very good and popular spa, Verbena, using Elemis and Anne Sémonin products. The space is cosy, with huge squashy armchairs and seven treatment rooms, as well as a saunarium, aromatherapy room, salt vapour room, ice cave, and an outdoor hot tub. The outdoor swimming pool is open year round, whatever the weather.

WHERE TO GO
If you do have a car, the spectacular stately home Castle Howard is a half-hour drive away and well worth visiting, both to see the house itself, and for its 1,000 acres of gardens (pictured; castle howard.co.uk). Also a short drive away is the seaside: Scarborough, Whitby and Runswick Bay are popular spots.

WHAT TO TAKE
Plenty of warm clothes, a waterproof coat and good walking boots – Timberland's are particularly comfortable – or warm Neoprene-lined wellies by Le Chameau.

WHAT TO BUY
Helmsley has three very good delicatessens selling everything from local sausages to homemade pies. At Hunters of Helmsley on Market Place, we stocked up on jars of excellent homemade chutney, pickles and jams (huntersofhelmsley.com).