To Robin Hood’s Bay for a weekend of camping. It’s not in Nottingham as I quite naturally assumed, oh no, it’s in Yorkshire. It’s very beautiful there. We arrived early morning armed with umbrellas, galoshes, raincoats and were met by a mist that melted into glorious sunshine. I even got sunburn. We never thought to pack sunglasses, sunblock, a hat or anything like that. It’s August for heaven’s sake, how were we to know?
The beach there is fantastic, a mix of slimy Palaeolithic-looking stone, rock pools, fresh water streams running down from the hill, and stretches of golden sand. The water was freezing so our planned swim didn’t happen though some brave souls did indulge, including children, so I felt a bit of a coward. We had a paddle, flew kites, had a cliff top walk with lots of exciting birds flying about, including the robin that follows us everywhere we go. Through Boggle Hole and then back to the village.
The village itself is gorgeous, tiny and relatively unspoiled, just a fistful of pubs, chippies and sweetshops and a main road that runs right into the sea. Pub dinner at Ye Dolphin and then drinks outside the lovely big Victoria pub at night on the cliff top watching the odd bat and having a right old laugh with Neil, Dean, Christine, Stuart, James and Frances who just announced she is 3 months pregnant! Happy times.
Next day we whistle-stop at a brilliant little greasy spoon in Whitby, where I want to retire, there or Bridlington, or Scarborough. Disappointed to see no Goths but it was very sunny. Then a bit further up the coast to Sandsend with it’s enormous beach, coves and little slate cliff faces. Read the paper, played Frisbee, sorry ‘sports disk’, and had more despicably indulgent scran. Manchester soon loomed with its hideous weather, we drove home in a rainstorm.
For the record, over the course of the weekend I consumed: chips, a pickled egg, a 99, a chocolate muffin, cranberry and lemon cake, Black Sheep ale, a vegetable curry, Bulmers, some other kind of ale, clotted cream fudge, a peanut cracknel bar, a giant jelly snake, cinder toffee ice cream, Hula Hoops, scrambled egg with beans on toast, a cream tea of scones, jam and clotted cream, pizza, and mozzarella pasta. I virtually had to be winched into work on Monday.
The beach there is fantastic, a mix of slimy Palaeolithic-looking stone, rock pools, fresh water streams running down from the hill, and stretches of golden sand. The water was freezing so our planned swim didn’t happen though some brave souls did indulge, including children, so I felt a bit of a coward. We had a paddle, flew kites, had a cliff top walk with lots of exciting birds flying about, including the robin that follows us everywhere we go. Through Boggle Hole and then back to the village.
The village itself is gorgeous, tiny and relatively unspoiled, just a fistful of pubs, chippies and sweetshops and a main road that runs right into the sea. Pub dinner at Ye Dolphin and then drinks outside the lovely big Victoria pub at night on the cliff top watching the odd bat and having a right old laugh with Neil, Dean, Christine, Stuart, James and Frances who just announced she is 3 months pregnant! Happy times.
Next day we whistle-stop at a brilliant little greasy spoon in Whitby, where I want to retire, there or Bridlington, or Scarborough. Disappointed to see no Goths but it was very sunny. Then a bit further up the coast to Sandsend with it’s enormous beach, coves and little slate cliff faces. Read the paper, played Frisbee, sorry ‘sports disk’, and had more despicably indulgent scran. Manchester soon loomed with its hideous weather, we drove home in a rainstorm.
For the record, over the course of the weekend I consumed: chips, a pickled egg, a 99, a chocolate muffin, cranberry and lemon cake, Black Sheep ale, a vegetable curry, Bulmers, some other kind of ale, clotted cream fudge, a peanut cracknel bar, a giant jelly snake, cinder toffee ice cream, Hula Hoops, scrambled egg with beans on toast, a cream tea of scones, jam and clotted cream, pizza, and mozzarella pasta. I virtually had to be winched into work on Monday.
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