Whitby
“White, wet clouds, which swept by in ghostly fashion, so dank and damp and cold that it needed but little effort of imagination to think that the spirits of those lost at sea were touching their living brethren with the clammy hands of death, and many a one shuddered at the wreaths of sea-mist swept by.”
Dracula, Bram Stoker, 1897
So far autumn has been kind to the UK, at least where we live. The weather has to take a turn for the worst at some point so this weekend we decided that rather than miss out we’d make one last trip to the coast on Saturday. I’d not seen the sea for too long.
I’m not a seafaring type. I don’t sail, in fact I have a tendency to migrate to the rail of any vessel as soon as it encounters even the slightest swell. And Suze is even worse, the only swell that agrees with her is, well, I’ll let you fill in the blanks.
Despite that the sea is something that I enjoy. I love to watch it in all its moods, to smell it. I love to stand on cliffs and feel the spray on my face, taste it on my lips. The power and majesty of the ocean is one of the many things that man will never match with his ingenuity and technology.
It seemed only appropriate that with Halloween approaching we headed to Whitby. Unlike the unworldly tempest that cast The Demeter ashore we had great weather all day. We also got some great photos taken. 174 of them to be exact. Both the photos in this post are at the Abbey overlooking Whitby.
So much for the journal entry, how about some smut you all cry! Well, not so much smut as schoolboy humour. We didn’t get a picture of this but it does exist on the map. It’s just a couple of miles from RAF Fylingdales in the middle of the moors on the way back to Pickering.
Yes we couldn’t believe it either. It’s south of the bottom of a dip on a bad bend that makes the corkscrew at Laguna Seca look like a pushover. I’ve probably missed it before as the few times I’ve taken this route would have been at night.
Well we thought it was funny anyway.
So do you suppose there was an Earl of Horcum? Or perhaps a Duke? I know, a Duchess!
This certainly beats Hell, Michigan!
and then there are the cross dykes to contend with as well. LOL
Alex, do you think it may have marked an area for the plague? I cant tell from the photo if its that old or not!
You live in a place of relentless history, and with Suze at your side , I can see that you have and will be making more of it! LOL
The weather here in Bunkerland is still being equally kind to us. The upside of global warming? Thanks for visiting my HNT.
PS – the map link didn’t work for me, but that could be cos I’m in Krautsville.
The pictures are breathtaking!
Cherrie, not that I’m aware of.
Ana, LOL, I hadn’t noticed that. It looks like earthworks fromthe OS map markings. Dyke is quite common as part of a place name in Yorkshire.
Storm, If you’re interested in the black death you should Google “Eyam Derbyshire”. Whic is pronounced “eem” not “ee-yam” as you might expect.
Rob, sorry about the map, can’t think why it didn’t work.
Jen, thanks, I enjoyed taking them.