Frazer Hines stood with one foot in the parish of Giggleswick and one foot in Settle. The well-remembered star of Emmerdale was half way across the bridge which spans the Ribble in several graceful arches.

Filmsters were "shooting" a series of Dales walks - strolls, really, each of about three miles. Frazer's association with a popular "soap" which, in the early days, had strong links with Littondale, and which even now ends with the credits rolling over a picture of Kettlewell in Wharfedale, led to him being offered the job of presenter.

On the previous day, Frazer, the director and crew were enduring the monsoon period at Ingleton Falls. At least, the waterfalls were lively. On the following day, it was Malham's turn to be exposed to the unblinking eye of the camera and to Frazer's undoubted charm.

Just now, the accent was on North Ribblesdale, beginning with a crossing of the parish line on Giggleswick/Settle bridge. There wasn't time for me to point out the French sorrel which has been growing on an abutment of the bridge since at least the 1840s. In any case, it is not photogenic. When at its best, it looks poorly.

Frazer did peer under the bridge and realised there are two bridges in one - a ribbed medieval bridge with an 18th century addition, which became necessary as wheeled traffic grew in size and frequency.

Having a small part to play in a film of five minutes' duration, I followed the star and film crew to Langcliffe High Mill, an 18th century creation, one of the last remaining mills in the Arkwright style. On the way, Frazer was filmed as he leaned over a wall to pat a donkey. At home, in the Midlands, he has some fine racehorses.

I had devised this walk so it would be a blend of the countryside and industry. George and William Clayton, who built on a grand scale at Langcliffe, had been associated with Low Mill at Keighley, reputedly the first cotton spinning mill in Yorkshire.

The machinery was installed under the direction of Sir Richard Arkwright, the inventor, who was a personal friend of the Claytons. Workers went from Keighley to Derbyshire to be trained. At Langcliffe, the child cotton-pickers were imported from Keighley, lodging with respectable Langcliffe families. Hector Christie, the mill-owner, also had agents as far away as Cornwall who recruited young labour for his machines.

We walked along a mill-dam, then between two rows of cottages at the Locks and, turning a corner, saw a white-water spectacle at a weir which used to deflect water into the dam. With a tingle, I watched a trout trying to slither its way over the dam but falling back into the plunge-pool. A salmon-ladder beside the weir is a series of concrete-edged pools which give the big fish a helping land as they quest for the gravel-beds at spawning time.

It was at "the Locks" that Derek Soames awaited us. Derek, reared at Langcliffe, was brought down to the riverside as a toddler and is one of the keenest members of Settle Anglers. The biggest fish he ever caught was a 15lb salmon.

Derek was also for many years a railway man and, when he retired, I was permitted to enter the holy-of-holies known as Settle Junction signal box and record a conversation with him. Derek then demonstrated a variation on the fish theme by cooking a kipper. He rested it on a toasting-fork and held it over the open fire. What matter if fat fell into the flames and the head and tail of the kipper were scorched?

When the film crew met Derek, he had caught a one and a half pound trout. He mentioned two feathered poachers of fish - the cormorant and goosander - which have become increasingly common on the Ribble.

We followed a riverside path. The wild water had a brown tint from disturbed peat. The suds were yellowish. In places, the Ribble was blowing bubbles. Frazer's smart boots were spattered with mud as, uncomplainingly, he negotiated a particularly muddy gateway for the benefit of the camera.

Near Stainforth Bridge, it was my turn to face the star. The topic was Edward Elgar, the composer who struck up a friendship with Charles William Buck, a medical practitioner of Giggleswick, and was captivated by this great bridge and by tumbling water.

It seems that as we talked, an angler caught a big salmon and bore it away with a six-inch smile on his face. The fish must have been in the river for weeks. Salmon fresh from the sea were not expected for a few weeks.

The walk was half over. My last duty was to tell Frazer about Dog Hill and its ghosts. He would pass the hill on his way to Stainforth. A headless man and a dog used to be reported on moonlit nights as they make their way from Dog Hill to Knight Stainforth Hall. The man, being headless, would certainly have need of the dog to guide him.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.