In a heatwave, it’s not ideal sitting indoors with all the windows closed to keep the smoke from the wildfires out. After a few last minute chores, I set off for Whitby, soon after noon.
The drive was easy enough and only in a couple of places did I see smokey haze in the distance. Google Maps took me to the backdoor or my Airbnb, but luckily, Lucy was there to let me in.
To access my room, from the town, you have to walk up hill, then climb a dozen steps to reach the front door and then climb a further two flights of stairs inside. I’m glad it was a bit cooler here on the east coast: that was the plan, after all! And the bed that I invariably collapsed onto was very comfortable.
I went for a wander down into town, sight-seeing and people-watching. It’s hard to avoid seeing the Abbey high up on the hill, but on this visit, I resisted the temptation to climb the 199 steps to reach it.
The swing bridge is still closed to traffic, and I was impressed by the two very large Lego bricks blocking its entrance.
I found myself at the end of the very long jetty before thinking to look for somewhere to eat. In the end, I went for a pizza, a marguerita, which in this case was cheese, cheese, cheese and maybe it looked at a tomato at some point.
The wind felt cool but it was playing rough with the incoming tide.
Usually when we’re staying in a b&b, we don’t bother with the TV but I turned this one on. Strangely, Freeview wasn’t connected, but Netflix was. So, at last, after all this time, I watched Geeta Gandbhir’s Oscar-nominated film The Perfect Neighbor. It’s a tough watch but well worth the time. Unfortunately, it just confirms there are some nasty people around.
Meanwhile, Liesel, Leslie and Jyoti were out at a gig in Indianapolis, at the world famous Jazz Kitchen.
When the gulls aren’t stealing people’s chips, they can be seen trying to gain access to people’s homes.
In the morning after breakfast, I visited the local library to do some writing. It was peaceful inside, despite the background noise of seagulls squawking, other people typing and the odd vehicle outside proudly announcing its reversing skills.
I was surprised to see Māori text on the wall.
This translates to: Through discussion comes awareness, through awareness comes understanding, and through understanding comes knowledge. I was pleased to be able to show off my knowledge of Te Reo Māori to the library assistant. (Well, thanks, Google translate)
Captain James Cook has strong connections with Whitby. He was a British explorer, navigator, cartographer, and captain in the British Royal Navy. Famous for discovering Australia, totally ignoring the native Aussies who’ve been there for 60,000 years. He had absolutely nothing to do with the Titanic, although this model in the library is rather cool.
So, who wants to see how steep the path was up to Pannett Park? It was very steep, especially for those of us who live in the flatlands of Northenden.
This archway reminds us of the genuine whalebone archway nearer the town centre. There are carvings of ships and other nautical items, reminiscent of scrimshaw.
In the park, I saw a painter at work. He was reluctant to speak but he did agree to me taking this picture.
He didn’t tell me his name, but he did confirm that none of his work was on display in the nearby Pannett Art Gallery, which I visited after enjoying a coffee. I learned about the Staithes Group of Artists, British Impressionists from the late 19th, early 20th century.
The Museum is in the same building, but I decided not to visit this time.
Looking for a nice view and I thought, thistle do.
There are a number a wooden sculptures in the park too, some people are very talented.
Passage to India is, I believe, a good book by E M Forster, but I’ve never read it. I did visit the restaurant that shares its name though here in Whitby. Great food, yeah, but far too much for me, so again, no dessert.
Having seen the work of the Staithes Group of Artists, I thought it might be interesting to visit Staithes itself. It’s a short bus ride north, more or less along the coast, providing some nice views. I noticed there seems to be a disagreement between Google Maps and the local bus company. Is it Nettledale Close or Netterdale Close?
I got off the bus at Captain Cook’s Close, and walked for ten minutes into Staithes, which bills itself as Captain Cook’s Village, 1745. Well, he did work there for eighteen months as a shopboy to a grocer, but his skills lay elsewhere, as history shows.
You’re never too far from a lovely view in Yorkshire, and here was no different: this sight in particular caught my eye.
After a quick stop at Coastal Kitchen, I wandered into the very quaint, old town. The streets are narrow, cobbled, and modern vehicles really do look out of place here.
There’s a small stream, Staithes Beck, that flows by this historic fishing village, but right now, it’s really dry. On the other side are located coastal cliffs, which provide a lovely backdrop to the traditional red-roofed cottages on this side.
The museum was just up my street. Plenty of maritime artefacts, old maps, and an unusual sundial.
And yes, of course, there was a lot of information about Captain Cook. Who, by the way, died in Hawaii, which is where Liesel was born.
Dog Loup in the narrowest alleyway in the north of England. I had the pleasure of squeezing myself through its 45cm width to see what was at the other end.
Nothing special, so I went back the way I came.
I didn’t make the effort to walk over the stepping stones that cross the beck. It would have meant walking down a steep slope and then back up again. And I didn’t want to miss the bus back to Whitby.
Where’s my fix of Keiran? Here he is on his first visit to the local playground. What an adventurer.
And over in Indiana, Liesel has been buying fruit and veg to take back to Anchorage, as well as admiring the copious local bindweed.
The drive back home was uneventful. I stopped a couple of times to look at the view, well, because I could.
This natural amphitheatre is near Saltergate Bank. It has a fascinating geological origin. A local giant, Wade the Giant, scooped up a handful of earth to throw at his wife during an argument, creating the hole, and leaving behind Blakey Topping where the earth landed. She must really have annoyed him.
That was a most enjoyable few days away, and I’m pleased to say that when I returned home, the stench of smoke had dissipated and the heatwave had eased off a bit.
In Indianapolis, Liesel, her Mom and Jyoti had therapeutic pedicures. Definitely needed after all the walking they’ve done.
I say walking, but I think some of it was running away from the giant squirrels they have in that part of the world.
Back home, back to normal, the only deadline being completion of the week’s radio show.
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