And even “Nah then”. Which is all my amusingly twee way of introducing this little blog about our trip over to God’s own county to visit Mrs. Wombat’s dad. All four of us piled in the car, plus Ben, plus luggage for a few days – hurray for the Tardis-like qualities of the Meriva! As we left it was pissing down hard, but left off as we crossed the Pennines. By the time we reached the A64, it was fine enough so that we could stop at the Pick Your Own.Mary and Ellie set to with a will amongst the strawberry plants –– while i wandered over with Ben to take a look at the field of gorgeous lavendar growing nearby. I found this poppy (the most beautiful of flowers) showing itself off against the blue field.“Aha!” thought I, “I’ll trry getting Ben to show himself off against the blue field. Mostly he just wanted to wee on the blue field, so it took a while, but eventually I managed to take this.Meanwhile, the family (now including Cat) had moved on to the tayberries. Those of you who know this delicious fruit, will understand that it is VERY spiky and hurtful of fingers, so I let them do all the hard work. (“I would help, but I’m just taking a few photos”)And for those of you who don’t know, here’s a tayberry. Looks a bit like a long raspberry, doesn’t it? They are delicious, either with sugar and cream, or cooked in a crumble or pie.Here’s the punnet of strawberries, which we had that evening with cream and a rather nice rosé wine (oh alright, Black Tower, since you ask).
A day trip to Whitby, this time with five and a dog in the Meriva, Mary’s dad joining us for the trip. We found a parking space pretty easily on the North side (not always the case), which meant that the first shop we came to was this wonderful bakery.
“Do you fancy a bun, Michael?” Oh yeah, I’m all about the buns. Here’s the choice I had – what would you have chosen?One lemon curd tart later, and its down the hill towards the town centre. Here’s Cat wondering whether she can afford a Totoro plushie (she couldn’t). Note the abbey up on the hill in the background.Lemon curd tart notwithstanding, we found a seat overlooking the harbour and abbey –– and had the most exquisite haddock and chips. Lots of S&V, so the aroma was intoxicating. Look at the size of the fish! You can barely see the chips beneath, and there were indeed many of those.A bit further down the harbour, we could see the swing bridge over to the South side of town –So across we went, into the old narrow streets and small, independent (and unusual) shops. It was getting quite crowded by now, and the sun was out.Cat spotted the guy from Curio Corner feeding the doves that live in the square, but I was just too late to photograph them flocking about her head. I’m going to post the picture I took anyway, so ner.After an afternoon of window-shopping, and view-admiring, we decided NOT to climb the gazillion steps up to the abbey. Google the place if you want to know exactly how many there are, but suffice to say it’s a lot. On the way back to the car, we passed the statue of Captain Cook, wearing a jaunty seagull.Turning around on the spot, I photographed this view across the harbour –The drive back was inbteresting, for we stopped in Sneaton at Beacon Farm. Why? A quick read of the sign should tell you that.If you’re ever in the Whitby area, do yourself a favour and visit this place, for they make the finest ice-cream I’ve ever tasted. Here’s a wombat anjoying a Muddy Puddle Sundae. Oh. My. Goodness.
Back in good old…
… we also quite often visited the peaceful Filey Hides. There’s an area of protected wetland which is visited by any number of birds of multifarious breeds…Its a relaxing, quiet, calm place, with hides so that the creatures of nature are not frightened away by our great hulking humanity. Here are the girls, looking for heron – they spotted several, along with a fairly long list of other breeds.And finally, we walked up to the Muston Scarecrow Festival, which included this loveable chap.I’ll put all the Scarecrow stuff into a little movie on Youtube, I reckon, so I’ll not bother sticking any other photos of it here. I’ll just say though, twas a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon. And it didn’t rain. At least, not until we got back over the Pennines into Lancashire. There’s some sort of metaphor there, I’m sure.