I’ve been twice before, but then the place was so crowded that if I stopped for more than a few seconds to examine an exhibit, I caused a tourism jam and felt obliged to move on.
This time, with most tourists, apart from some very hardy Koreans, having retreated to their storm shelters, there was time to gawp – and really, seeing the possessions of a rather private and close-knit family being exposed to the common gaze in what was once their home, does feel a little like gawping.
On display, for example, are some of Charlotte Bronte’s clothes, including a very skinny pair of stockings and a tiny under-bodice, which I don’t suppose she would have expected to have been exposed to anybody apart from her husband, sisters and servants. It manages to make you feel, even after all these years, intrusive. Read more: Yorkshire Evening Post