Friday, 23rd of June
“Are you going to Scarborough fair?” some blokes asked once upon a time. The answer from Haitham was “Do we have to?”
We woke up to a drizzly gray day, a complete turn-around from the sizzler we arrived to on Monday. Undeterred, we headed out to our next destination with a fond farewell to York. Our plan was to kill some time before our next B&B check-in with a cheeky wander through a nearby area in the Moors–however, when we arrived at our destination of choice, it was still chucking it down.
Luckily for us, a quick google provided the answer. “What to do when it’s raining in Yorkshire” saved the day: time to paint some mugs in Bridlington!
Where is Bridlington you may ask?
What an adorable illustration. If you’ll notice, Bridlington is on the eastern coast, and has no wee icon to mark its presence (unless you count the nearby sheep). I think if I were to chose one, it would be perhaps a turd. Or this lady in her fully enclosed wheelchair/scooter thing.
Bridlington was kinda shit.
Nevermind that though, we did totally paint the hell out of two mugs in Bridlington at a place hilariously called Pot-A-Doodle-Doo! (And how.) Mine was a dinosaur; Haitham a streaked…. thing.
Such focus. We barely spoke to each other during our painting session, so intense was our attention.
With the promise of a delivery of kiln-fired mugs within the next few days to our flat, we hit the streets once more with our B&B in mind. We may have hit the streets a little quicker than we entered, eager to leave the rather decrepit old seaside town. Next stop: the moors, and our home for two nights!
Did I mention it was a farm, y’all?
Upon arrival things kicked off to a very great start with the presence of an extremely friendly black lab whose name, it turned out, was Lolly. Lolly spent the vast majority of her time on the farm greeting guests with her big brown eyes and waggy tail, and alternately hoping people would throw the ball. As a concierge, I give her a 10/10.
Once we were settled in, we naturally decided a roam about the place was in order. After all, we (I) wanted animals, so animals it was time to get! As it happens, the B&B provided extremely well. Baby cows with big gooey chocolate eyes, little pigs that snorted and snuffled, a very standoffish goat that somehow teleported in between different fenced-in fields, even highland cows busy scratching their arses and other cow things. And Lolly supervising the lot.
Honestly. First a chocolate feast the day before, now a B&B to match my dreams.
We had a relatively quiet evening considering all the excitement we’d had in Bridlington earlier. A dinner was had where Haitham insisted one could not dine on cheese alone. Have y’all ever heard of cheese being offered as a dessert? Well, it is here. I know. It’s wild, but true. But it allowed me to make it clear to Haitham that indeed, one can have dessert for dinner (and it was darn good too!).
Afterwards we decided to have a walk through the fields nearby. One would think we’d need some expert guidance being unfamiliar with the land: lucky for us, we had the best!
Then it was off to bed for another exciting, last full day of hols the following day.
Saturday, 24th of June
Last full day in Yorkshire… so time to go ham!
Our list for the day was like this: Robin Hood’s Bay and Whitby. What ended up taking place instead was Robin Hood’s Bay, Whitby (abandoned quickly), Scarborough (also abandoned quickly-ish), Goathland, then home.
First up was what I had heard described by many as a truly stunning place. Located north of where we were staying, Robin Hood’s Bay absolutely lived up to hype. Not only was the town itself, found winding its way from precarious location atop the seaside cliffs down to the water’s edge, absurdly cute, but the view was fantastic. We had a walk around the rim just about to the point you see in the distance, before heading back the way we came.
We picked our way back along the beach, following throngs of fellow day-trippers, children with crab buckets, and folks eating ice cream. Unable to resist, we joined the latter before heading back up the steep 24% gradient to the top once more.
Town and aforementioned ice cream truck pictured below!
Next up was Whitby, famous for an old ruined abbey (Yorkshire is positively overrun with them) and its quaint, sea-side charm. However, upon making our way into Whitby we realized that literally everyone else on the planet had the same idea as us. After struggling and failing to even find parking, we then struggled our way back out of the town again. Next up: back down south to Scarborough! Why?!? I’m not sure, we were under pressure and it seemed the best option at the time!
Oh, right. I remember now. There was promise of a veggie corn dog. Although when we did arrive for lunch at the sprawling sea-side town of Scarborough and to East Coast Kitchen, I realized I had been lead astray, and we had massive veggie hot dogs instead. (Perhaps one should not make their travel decisions based on the promise of corn dogs, but damn I really wanted one!)
When we left our lunch-time spot, we began to notice throngs of people pooling into nooks and crannies of Scarborough. Nonplussed, we gave them the hairy eyeball before heading on our way down the street to the ocean. There, we were even more perplexed to see metric shit-tons of people gathered, including tents and displays of some kind. Just what the heck was going on??
10 seconds later, a guy on a loudspeaker boomed out: “Welcome to the Scarbourough Armed Forces Day! Hold tight for our aerial show, ready to start in 10 minutes!”
Through some absurd, hot-dog-influenced good luck, we managed to arrive in the nick of time for our first ever aerial show. And it was stinkin’ great. Lucky for me I had my big lens! I’ll admit I may have geeked out a little.
However I won’t bore you with 200 photos of the Red Arrows doing their thing. Instead, a shot of the people gathered on the shore looking back at Scarborough:
Seriously. There was a lot of people. When the aerial show ended, we had a quick wander before realizing that if we wanted to get out of town, we should probably consider getting the heck out of there before the rush (yeah, no luck there). As we sat at a dead standstill in our parking garage for about an hour, fuming at a guy who ignored the Zipper Method (letting one person in/out at a time), we googled just what the heck to do next. Did I mention Haitham had had quite enough of old, shambly sea-side towns? (I think they’re cute though!)
We settled on a place in the general direction of where we’d head home, a town called Goathland, which just so happened to have a waterfall of some kind. Enough said: let’s hit the road! (albeit very slowly)
Along the way, we stopped to appreciate the rolling splendor of the moors. Some of the heather was just starting to bloom–I reckon in a week or so, this already gorgeous vista becomes something else entirely, covered with carpets of purple.
As it turns out, our destination of Goathland is adorable. It’s a tiny, tiny wee place just oozing English charm. Not only are there sheep roaming free, they have tiny old antique cars just sitting around, and … it’s dead quiet. Like some kind of really adorable ghost town. Not only that, but upon arrival we discovered Goathland has its own steam train railway station, complete with old donated artifacts and antique signage. It was honestly such a delightful surprise of a town (despite creeping me out just the tiniest bit based on its Stepford wives-level silence).
Have you ever seen anything cuter than that tiny police car? Who did a car like that chase? Pensioners? Maybe it was the unruly lambs. Here’s a photo I snapped seconds after a sheepling attempted to head-butt an oncoming car. It seems like the passenger found it just as hilarious as I did!
After reaching our waterfall, the Mallyann Spout, we headed back home. We were ushered along by an ever-increasingly stunning sunset, complete with some god rays. Man.