Monday 3rd April
The forecast for Monday promised more of the same and a bleary-eyed glance outside first thing suggested said promise had been honored.
For the first time this trip I tied a tie – leather obviously, held in the stomach as I buttoned up the waistcoat and headed for the bus stop, just a few yards from the site. Buses from Loftus – further up towards Middlesborough – run to Whitby every half hour or so during the day and the continuation of the two quid single fare deal has certainly made bus travel more appealing. The Arriva app was easy to negotiate and I’d bought a few single tickets prior, knowing I’d be making use of them.
Deposited in the bus terminus after a er, spirited ride down Lythe Bank and around the twists and turns of Sandsend I headed to the railway station café for a coffee and scone, breakfast back at the Patsy consisting solely of a banana.
My destination was Pickering. It’s no coincidence that that’s the other end of the line for the North Yorkshire Moors Railway and soon after adjourning to the platform the steam hauled train came into view. There was a good turn out but it wasn’t too busy and I got a group of 4 seats to myself. The sun was streaming in and I had to stop myself from nodding off and missing the gorgeous North Yorkshire countryside as we steamed west.
I was meeting up with someone many of you know – Andrew Ditton – friend, caravanner, vlogger and blogger of the travel and leisure industry, with Dougal of course and recent addition, young Ted. We’d perused the timetables as soon as they were published and decided on a plan that would see us both get in a return train trip as well as some time in Whitby.
Pickering Station was heaving as the train pulled in but I soon located Andrew heading along from the far end of the platform, thankfully having already secured a ticket.
We quickly found some seats and had a good chinwag on the journey back to Whitby, Andrew occasionally capturing some video footage for a video which you can see HERE.
First item on the agenda once we arrived was lunch, we made our way through the crowds and across the bridge to an eatery off one of the busy streets that was both dog and vegan friendly. There was a lovely little courtyard to sit in but out of the sun the wind had a bite to it so we took a table inside and got stuck in, my stomach convinced that my throat had been cut, it being early afternoon and a long while since that scone.
Our time was a little limited but we took a walk up the
famous 199 steps to the abbey – although it seemed more like 1,199. Whilst I
may have been ‘in costume’ – it was Whitby, Dracula, Goths and all that, bunion
crushing Cuban heeled winklepickers and half a dead cow on my back in the shape
of my ridiculously long – in fact just plain ridiculous – leather coat made for
a perilous ascent. I had to hitch it up to avoid tripping over the tails whilst
keeping a rein on Dougal who had considerably more energy than me. It was
suggested later that I could have done with a couple of assistants in tow to
lift said coat tails and an image appeared in my head of two appropriately
dressed young men doing the honours and what a spectacle it would have made.
It was bracing up top by the abbey and Andrew took some time to get some more footage – including of me, gulp, before letting the dogs off for a run. Oh to have their energy. Thank you to Andrew for this pic:
The descent was marginally less perilous although I had to rein in Dougal’s’ enthusiasm to avoid going arse over tit down the steps.
We said our goodbyes on the platform as the last train of the day approached – a nice growly old diesel. I bypassed the bus station aware that Patsy’s cellar was empty and that the excellent village shop would now be closed. Clocking up yet more clichés I procured a bottle of ‘Bat’s Blood’ Merlot, from Transylvania no less. More than twice the price I’d normally pay but it made for a very tasty accompaniment to dinner.
The evening passed without incident – nothing fell to bits, broke or stopped working. It had been a good day.
Tuesday 4th April
Another bright and sunny morning and I admit I felt slightly guilty about doing next to nothing for most of the morning. It’s the same on every caravan trip, I have this nagging feeling that I should be out exploring all the time or at least doing something instead of just relaxing and letting be. To partially allay said feelings I tested the rear light cluster for the umpteenth time then screwed it back in, concluding that such strenuous activity had earned me another coffee, which went down well.
A lunch of homemade tomato soup – I can highly recommend the Slow Cooker Club recipe by the way – then made my way to the bus stop. I was heading for the lovely Robin Hoods Bay which necessitated a change of bus in Whitby. Yes I probably could have drove it quicker but, I drive for a living, which I enjoy, and tow for leisure, which I don’t. If there’s a sensible public transport option I’ll take it and I didn’t have long to wait for the connecting bus.
The first thing I noticed after getting off the bus was that the village stores across the road was advertising beers from the local brewery. This little nugget of info was filed away for later and I began my descent down the steep road towards the sea.
There were plenty of people about, it being the school holidays of course, but it wasn’t too busy. I paused on the decking overlooking the sea, then traversed a very short section of the Cleveland Way – the coast to coast walk that finishes at Whitehaven on the west coast.
I started my march back up the slope, pausing at a little shop which also sold local beers. Common sense should have dictated that it would have been easier just to buy some at the top rather than haul them up but never mind. Fortunately one of the pubs – the Laurel Inn - had opened on the way back up and the excuse of needing a rest was too good to miss. The pint of Timothy Taylor’s Boltmaker – my favourite TT beer, went down very well indeed in the cosy little snug. They even had the fire going.
Up the top of the hill is the Victoria Hotel, a place I will always remember as it was here in 2007 that I had my first pint of real ale after drinking lager most of my life. It was a pint of Cameron’s Castle Eden that started me on my never ending ‘research’ and it seemed appropriate to call in. Nothing new this time but another nice pint of Boltmaker helped lay the dust before a visit to the aforementioned shop prior to getting the bus. Well I had some room in my bag….
It was much busier back in Whitby but I decided on a stroll to the old town, progress to which was halted by the opening of the swing bridge as I approached. I thought wryly about the swing bridge at Newhaven which, when the tide is high, occasionally opens during rush hour causing horrendous tail backs. I’ve been caught up in it in the school minibus several times.
I had a nose in a couple of shops but wasn’t really looking for anything in particular so made my way back to the bus station. There wasn’t long to wait and I was soon back home in Patsy, nice and warm from the sun. What’s more everything appeared to be working.
A lively home made chicken enchilada from the freezer fed the inner man before a nice cosy evening in in front of the telly. Another good day.
Wednesday 5th April
The forecast wasn’t as good as for previous days but it was supposed to be dry at least until late afternoon, so once again I set off for the bus, much earlier than could be considered civilised when on holiday. I was catching the first train of the day from Whitby – not the North Yorkshire Moors Railway this time but the scheduled service that runs through the lovely Esk Valley to Middlesbrough. Trains are not that frequent and the next one was not until lunchtime, hence the early start.
The line is shared with the NYMR until Grosmont then diverges to head north. I planned to get off a couple of stops short of Middlesbrough, at Marton, from where I could walk to the National Trust property, Ormesby Hall. Marton was also the birthplace of explorer James Cook, born in 1728.
Well, the journey started well enough, the Esk Valley looking as beautiful as ever, but about an hour in spots of rain started appearing on the carriage windows. I’d hoped it was just a passing shower but no, by the time I got to Marton it was raining steadily, the wind had got up and it had turned very cold. I didn’t fancy the 20-minute walk to Ormesby even though I’d come prepared, wearing my more practical and bunion friendly Doc Martens, and decided to abandon the trip and head back. There were only a few minutes wait for the return train and by lunchtime I was back in Patsy, cranking the heating up to get her nice and cosy.
A few weeks prior to the trip I’d had to invest in a new laptop – the old one had done well for 10 years but there was more and more stuff going wrong with it and any efforts to speed it up a bit proved fruitless. I’d transferred over the video editing software and intended to use my free afternoon constructively, putting together a couple of site arrival videos from footage acquired on the trip so far.
No such luck – despite putting in the licence number – one piece of software I’d actually paid for – it refused to work, telling me that the free trial had expired. To be honest I wasn’t that bothered, the footage would keep, so I decided to execute Plan C – and had a nap!
Thursday 6th April
The forecast of wind and rain was duly delivered so, as well as starting the pack up for the next days’ departure I decided to do a bit of cooking. I’d seen that the lovely village shop sold loose veg so headed over to pick up a few bits then put together a sausage casserole in the little slow cooker I keep in the ‘van. I so wish there was a greengrocer at home where I could buy just one of this or two of that rather than pounds – or 500 gram bags – of everything wrapped in plastic.
So a slightly disappointing end to this leg of the trip but it had had some good points, visiting some favourite places, seeing friends, and just being back in Patsy, despite her woes.
More soon as I move sites whilst staying in North Yorkshire, then start to head south.