Iona Heads North

Trip 15: Whitby , York Moors part 1.
So we head for the North York Moors, starting at Whitby for four nights and then south to Pickering at the other end of the North Yorks Steam Railway. This will be our longest trip of eight nights away, without electric hook up, so I will no-doubt get OCD about the battery condition.
On the previous trip to the Peak District we encountered some rough roads and pot holes, I think this has contributed to the rear bumper skirt cracking around the fixing points although the plastic is very thin at that part of the moulding. So until it is replaced under warranty I have added some duct tape at the back to add a bit more support.
We stopped on the moors above Ruswarp for a sandwich and set off on the final leg of the journey, arriving at the campsite at about 2.30pm. We were soon set up and sitting in the sun by 3.15 pm.
Our pitch is next to the river and just beyond that is the North York’s Railway line, so we may get a picture of the trains.
Day 2:
Today we walked into Whitby via a footpath that followed the railway and the river. The path passed under a huge viaduct. I am not sure what it originally carried I suspect a train track.
It took about 35 minutes to walk into Whitby, we stopped by the station car park and waited for the next Steam train to leave on it’s way to Pickering.
We then headed for the harbour passing fish and chip shops and a mass of arcades. Finally reaching the harbour we walked to the end of the breakwater where you can climb the old lighthouse, we didn’t this time. The town was very busy so we made our way back via the harbour and marina.
It was a sunny day but once back at the campsite it was windy which made it quite cold to sit outside although we managed an hour or so. tea tonight was Chinese style curry, much needed after the chill from outside.
Day 3:
We made plans to walk into Whitby after lunch, then walk around the sights and have a Fish & Chip supper then walk home.
Our first tourist site was in Ruswarp village. There is an old mill, built around 1711 and worked as a grain mill, Over it’s history it had three fires but survived them all. It is now converted to apartments, and on the green there is a wooden carving of the Monk who was the Miller. He came from the Whitby Abbey which we would visit later.
As we walked into Whitby along the railway path we were passed by a Train pulled with a Steam locomotive. I just managed a couple of pictures before it was gone.
We arrived in Whitby and headed over the river and through the old town along cobbled streets towards the Abbey. The Abbey is perched on the cliffs overlooking the harbour. Sue counted the steps and there were 187. I knew it when I reached the top. We made our way to the ruins but being tight we did not buy the guided tour and took pictures from outside.


Next to the Abbey ruins is a church which was unlike any other. The pews were laid out in boxes, we assume to stop the poor mixing with the wealthy merchants. There was one ‘box’ labelled ‘Strangers’. The church has the only three-tiered pulpit with ear trumpets leading to seating underneath where the vicar’s deaf wife would sit with hearing pipes so she could hear her husband preaching.
Above the main floor was the organ and more pews which were tiered like a theatre so every one could see the preacher.
We left the church and went back down the steps to the old town and beyond. We walked alleys and streets, some window shopping and we virtually did the whole of Whitby. It was still too early to eat so we found a pub that overlooked the harbour. It was set off the beaten track and was mainly filled with local people. We sat outside in the beer ‘garden’ more of a terrace but it allowed us to watch the harbour as the tide slowly came in.
After a pint we went to look for a fish and chip shop which we found near to the railway station. It was empty so we sat and waited for our supper to be cooked. The place was packed solid by the time we left for home.
Our walk home was different because the tide had come in and it had completely changed the look of the river at low tide. As the river meandered towards Ruswarp it had created a flood plain and we saw a grey seal on the bank, quite far inland. We left it in peace after trying to get a photo.
The last train was pulled by a Diesel.
We eventually arrived home with 20,000 steps on our pedometers.
Day 4:
The day is overcast and dull. Last night we talked about taking a boat on the river. So once we were up and about and the standard jobs done we walked towards Ruswarp and the boat hire wharf.
We hired a rowing boat for an hour and off we set. It took me a few minutes to get back into rowing mode although not quite London Rowing Club standard.


After about 20 minutes we came across a canoe fest of school children being taught how to canoe. We passed through them somehow and continued to the campsite. We had been out about half an hour so we turned around and headed back.
Arriving back on time we were met by the lady in charge and we had a chat about how high the river can get and the nearby Ruswarp Mill that has been there since 1711 and was part of the monastery. It then changed hands several times, survived three fires and is now apartments.
Our host at the boat hire wharf recommended the butchers for sandwiches so we continued into Ruswarp.
The butcher did offer hot sandwiches at only £1.70 but Sue was a little ill last night after the Whitby fish and chips so we gave it a miss. I managed to drag her to the riverside pub for a drink. We sat outside right next to the river and railway. We soon saw a steam loco pulling old Pullman carriages over the river bridge.
Drink over, we left the pub where the food was now being served and it smelled fantastic. We were soon home and a sandwich lunch for me and Sue had her healthy mixture of nuts and fruit.
The afternoon is chill time around the motorhome. Tonight Sue cooked my favourite prawn risotto but today she used some dried porcini mushrooms that transformed the risotto.
Tomorrow we head for Pickering.
Trip 15:  146.4 miles, 28.8 mpg, 41 mph, 3hr 33m

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