And so, Thursday evening rolled round.
It was holiday time.
However, things had not gone well that morning. We thought that rounding up the cats and taking them to the cattery would speed things up ands enable us to get away nice and early on Friday morning.
The cats had other ideas. When we go up Molly and scully were in, Mulder was not. I took Jools to work, came back and just Molly was in. It seems that Scully had worked out how to open the catflap even when it was locked. I waited for a while but decided to head to work and we would have to sort it out in the evening.
When we got back in the evening we had Molly and Mulder but no Scully. We did not know what to do. And then the flap went and Scully announced her appearance; we grabbed her and the other two, and packed them into the car and off to the cat hotel in the country.
After dinner we packed and got ready for our weekend; or operation avoid diamond jubilee as it should be known. Not that I have anything against her Maj, but the BBC and all other channels have been ramming it down our throats, and that was before the whole bloody weekend had begun.
Friday 1st June.
Up at five and the car packed, we headed off back up the M2 under the Thames and up the M11 to Cambridge, where we stopped for breakfast. And onwards and northwards and up the A1. Our plan to stop at Stamford and pause for photographs was put abandoned as the skies darkened and the rain fell. We pressed on through Lincolnshire and Nottinghamshire and into Yorkshire.
And idea formed in my mind to go to Leeds. I thought it would be good to visit the Royal Armouries. We headed into LS1 along the old M1, headed into the city centre and found somewhere to park in a huge multi-story car park. Outside, it had almost stopped raining, but not quite. So we hurried across the square between huge modern buildings and through the sliding doors of another faceless building. But inside it has all the fiendish machines and methods man has dreamt of to deal with other men.
In all honesty, despite having worked with bombs and weapons for 15 years in the RAF, I am not in love with weapons; I know what they can do to other people, and I am appalled at the brutality that man can invent. No, I wanted to visit the Armouries because of the architecture. And its centrepiece was something called the Tower of Steel. A tower surrounded by a stairway, and inside thousands of weapons arranged in fantastic patterns. It is horribly glorious. Jools had been looking on the web and found a bead shop about a mile away; shall we try to find it? Yes we shall. With the phone leading the way we headed towards the centre of the city by going over a fine bridge over the Calder. Leaving me at the city’s civic church, Jools pressed on to find the shop. I went inside the church.
And what a church it was; despite being only Victorian, it is full of design and wonder, and clearly the parishioners and wardens are very proud of their building. I was shown round by Ann, the warden on duty, and she showed me the delights of the building, and told me to quickly snap the lady’s chapel as a service was about to take place. I went into the café for a coffee while I waited for Jools to come back. I remembered in the depth of my memory of the last time I visited the city, and the wonders I saw. Maybe we should go exploring…..
Jools came back and told me a wonderful arcade she had seen; and I remembered the wonderful indoor market. We set off into the city…..
Near the outdoor market, we came across a barbers; I needed a trim, and checking that I didn’t need an appointment the middle eastern buy snipped away at my hair, and soon enough I felt half a stone lighter and much cooler.
We went into the indoor market, marvelling at its structure; it is a rival of Leadenhall Market in London, but this is still a vibrant, working market, packed with stalls, shops and people. Lots of people. We decided to back later for provisions for our week in the wilds of Yorkshire.
We found two fine Victorian shopping arcades, which we photographed its fine designs and roof. It was fantastic, it really was. And on top of this we had seen the roof of a large circular building, which we knew we had to go and investigate. The building was The Corn Exchange; and in the 21st century it housed shops and fine eateries. We were transfixed by the wonderful roof, supported, apparently, by itself. Whilst in the open basement, a fine looking restaurant could be seen. We were hungry, so we went down nad ended up having a salad and a beer.
Calling back at the market we bought some fruit and salad stuff and then headed back over the river to the car. I guessed that we had about an hour to travel to go past York and then onto Pickering. Thankfully to accompany us on our trip was Mark Kermode giving us his very own personal review of the new film by Ridley Scott, Prometheus, which we are going to London to see in IMAX on the 10th.
We reached Pickering at just gone four, and it is about 15 minutes to the cottage, first up the main road to Whitby and then turning off and heading down into a valley and up the other side to Levisham. After unpacking and having a brew; we headed over the neighbouring pub for dinner and a couple of pints of local ale.
It was the end of a wonderfully long but full day.
Saturday 2nd June 2012.
We awoke nice and early, but lay in bed listening to the birds singing outside. Such is a simple pleasure for those on holiday. We got up, had breakfast and headed to Pickering as we had a train to catch. Leaving from Pickering heading along long valleys is the North Yorkshire Moors railway, and we wanted to beat the crowds to head to Whitby. We managed to get into town in time, find a place to park the car, buy our tockets and get a seat with 5 minutes to spare. Right on time, the vintage class 24 diesel locomotive took us out of the station. It is s fine line, with wonderful views up the valley sides. The trains stop at a few stations, including Gothland, which has been used as the station in TV series ‘Heartbeat’ and also is the station at Hogsmead in the Harry Potter films. As you can imagine it is quite a tourist destination, so we stayed on the train.
We had to change at Grosmont, and wait for the next train to take us to the seaside. We had a bacon butty in the station buffet and watched the steam locomotives moving around the station. It was a fine way to spend the morning. At ten past eleven we caught the train to the coast, and on to Whitby. After the fine weekend we had last weekend, it has been a very great shock to have temperatures hovering around the ten degree mark, and as I have brought no coat or jumper, it means I am quite cold. It was too cold to head up to the Abbey, or go along the beach, so we headed into a chippy to have lunch whilst the light drizzle swept around the town.
We had cod and chips, fresh from the fryer and the fish was wonderfully white showing how fresh it was. Its why there are so many fish and chip shops in the town. We walked around the town and visited a couple of churches, inside one was an arts and crafts fair, and I managed to buy a vinyl record; I always find something worth buying. Hmmmmmm. It was so cold, there was little else to do that head back to the station, via a pub for a pint, to catch the two o’clock train back to Pickering. The train pulled in and there was a scramble for seats, and once again the engine’s whistle sounded, and we headed back out of the town and back onto the moors.
Back in Pickering, we buy some more provisions and then headed back to the cottage for tea and for me to watch the last England game before the European Championships begin on June the 8th. It was a dull game and I barely kept awake. Other football news over the past few days is earth-shattering stuff for Norwich fans; Paul Lambert has resigned as Norwich manager and has been appointed boss of Aston Villa. And on top of that, Grant Holt has stated he also wants to leave as well. Who knows what all this is going to mean…….
Sunday 3rd June 2012.
Today is the day of the great flotilla in London. A thousand small boats will accompany the Queens in her new gilded barge down the Thames. We try to avoid all mention of it by heading out into the June morning.
We drive up onto the moors and then to Goathland to look for a place to snap the steam tains heading along the railway into the village. And then we head to Whitby and along the coast road towards Scarborough. However, the traffic is heavy, and we turn off after spotting a National Trust sign. We end up at place called Ravenscar, which offers fine views along the coast to Robin Hood’s Bay and down to Scarborough in the opposite direction. We walked along the bed of an old railway; and what a fine railway that would be if it were still running today, with fine views over the sea to Robin Hoods Bay. But not anymore, just walkers get to see the view, and explore the old brick and alum works that now lay abandoned next to the line.
After walking for an hour or so, we turn back and end up having tea and a wad in the café that now caters for the walkers and the lost who venture onto the old trackbed. We head back to the main road, and turn up along the road to Whitby, but turn off to take a short cut to the Pickering road. We end up parked up parked up near to Goathland waiting for passing steam trains to pass by. I wanted to get a shot of the 9F steaming by, but after an hour two steam locomotives passed by; but no 9F.
We head to a local bar and end up ordering a roast beef dinner, and follow that up the rhubarb crumble and fresh custard. Needless to say it was rather wonderful. After finishing up we head back down to our vantage point to wait the next trains to pass by; and next up was the 9F, steaming out of Goathland station sending up huge plumes of smoke and steam into the Yorkshire sky.
It was a fine sight, and with that we turned for home. Or the cottage. We turned on the TV to see heavy rain falling down onto the crowds standing beside the River Thames, watching the flotilla passing by. The crowds and Royals look resolute, but it looks a typical British affair; a thousand craft looking like a dozen, and the ran hammering down with the climax, flypast cancelled and fireworks on tower bridge just about lost in the rain.
Monday 4th June 2012
And so, Bank Holiday Monday. And in a break with tradition, the sun was due to shine.
We go up and after a good cup of coffee we set out in the car to head to the coast once more and make it all the way to Scarborough this time. We stopped off that The Hole of Horcum, to get views over the top of the moors, but the clouds grew thick and the colours were muted. We goon to the main coast road and then head down the road, twisting and turning stuck behind a train of lorries struggling with the steep hills and sharp bends.
Once in Scarborough, we drive to the town centre, find a place to park and set out to explore the town. And at once the heavens opened and so we seek shelter in a café, and have a huge cup of coffee and a Panini.
And once the rain had stopped we set off in search of the footprints of Michael Portillo. Again. As he has been to Scarborough, he visited the Grand hotel, and it was a place I wanted to see. Down an alleyway, and a square opened out, and there it was, just perched on the edge of the cliff. We would have gone inside, but we had just eaten and it was too early for a beer, so we walked along the cliffs to the Spa.
We had to dodge another shower, but it passed quickly, but found the spa, which from a distance looked wonderfully ornate, up close had the charm of a railway station.
Oh well.
We walked along the prom to where the ‘golden mile’ began. The sun shone and the sky and castle on the headland above was reflected in the wet sand. As it was still early, crowds were light, but even still we thought we would head up the narrow lanes to the church which sheltered just below the castle battlements.
Thankfully, the climb was worth it, and we were greeted warmly once again by a warden. Once I had snapped it, we headed down to the harbour and then along the crowded prom, and up the cliffs via a funicular railway. We went inside the hotel, but found it to be looking quite down at heel, but still looking glamorous from a distance, like a 50s film star.
We headed back to the car, via a little café in an alleyway, and I had a scone with all the cream and jam trimmings, and Jools had a slice of lemon meringue pie.
And so we headed back to the car and then back along the coast road to Whitby and back over the moors to the cottage. We spent the final couple of hours of the afternoon sitting on Levisham station waiting for steam trains to pass so we could photograph them, and inbetween eating ice creams.
Not a bad day all in all.
Tuesday 5th June 2012
So, why are we here in Yorkshire this week? Well, it is because at the national Railway Museum the is/was an event called Railfest. Once a decade a collection/selection of locomotives and rolling stock are gathered in one place and folks come to look at them.
And I had purchased very expensive photographer’s tickets which enabled me and other likewise freaky train-obsessed photographers the chance to get in before the public and snap to our heart’s delight.
And that is why the alarm went off at five in the morning, and after a cuppa a bowl of cereal we set off for York, some 25 miles away. As soon as we left the village, a doe jumped out of the hedgerow and seeing us in the car sprung back into the undergrowth. And all along the road to York we saw all kinds of wildlife not used to seeing cars so early in the morning.
We found a place to park in the city centre, and I walked to the rail museum, and I guess I was about tenth in the queue to get in at seven. In the morning. Those of us waiting, chatted about what we would see, and what we would not. And at five to seven, we were given our wristband and allowed to go in.
It became clear there were no rules and we could climb onto the tracks and get really close to the locomotives. Trains from all eras; dating back to the mid-19th century and right up to the latest high speed trains. And all there for us to photograph and pour over. As there were less than 400of us, it didn’t get too crowded, and it really was enjoyable. But, still, the cost of the ticket was eye-watering, but as a once in a decade event it was a good thing to do.
I headed to York Railway station to grab a second breakfast and a huge cup of coffee, I took my food and drink to a table that overlooked the grand, curving platform and roof of the station. It was rather nice I have to say. And then at half nice, after Jools had come and joined me, we went down to platform 5 to see a newly named locomotive arrive. It had been named at Railfest on Friday after the battle of Britain Memorial Flight, and I had been told of its arrival hauling its first passenger train whilst waiting in the queue that morning.
We walked back to the car and drove out of city before traffic got heavy and were soon zooming through the Yorkshire landscape heading back towards the moors. Except we had another plan. And that plan involved a large house and some photographs.
Castle Howard is famous for being where two adaptations of Brideshead Revisited were filmed, and the house is spectacular and set in glorious landscaped grounds. I have always wanted to visit it, and as we would arrive soon after opening we thought it would be a great way to spend the rest of the day.
We pulled up and found that at £13 for entry to the house and gardens wasn’t bad, and we went in. Well, it was worth going, the grounds had few folks in, and I snapped away at the house, and foral gardens with fountain. We headed to the lake which was line with huge rhododendron bushes, all of which were in bloom. We must have spent an hour visiting each of them, snapping and smelling rhe blooms.
And above us the skies darkened, and it looked like the rain forecast was about to fall. We went into the house and did the tour, but photography was allowed and I filled my boots with lots of shots, many of which came out well. Words fail me how grand the grand hall was, all painted arches and columns.
Wonderful stuff.
Anyway, it was now lunchtime and thoughts turned to food, and instead of being ripped off inside the house, we decided to leave and see where the road would take us. We ended up in a country pub and ordered some bar snacks; a baguette for me and a burger for Jools and it ended up being enough for a main meal. I washed mine down with ale brewed at the pub, and very good it was too.
And with tired feet and heads, we decided to head back to the cottage to chillax and for me to review the shots I had taken. And so the day passed into evening, as we tried to avoid all mention of the words ‘jubilee’ and ‘diamond’. I think we did it. However, news reports still taking place outside Buck House took place with a veil of rain in the background.
So it goes, so it goes.
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