Saturday, April 18, 2009


On the coach trip with the biddies yesterday, we passed breathtakingly beautiful countryside, through dales and moors. Whitby is a wonderful small fishing town and St. Hilda's is lovely.

I sat on the pier and wept a little, because Grandpère was not with me, and because the place was so beautiful. He would have adored Whitby. He's never known a fishing town or village that he didn't like. I sat on a bench on the pier and watched the waves roll in, which was soothing and healing. I'm getting all weepy and sentimental about places. I wept when I left the Yorkshire Moors with MadPriest and Mrs MadPriest. Imagine what MP thought of a weepy woman in the back of his car!

The words above are from one of the few posts I wrote while I was in England. According to legend, Whitby is associated with Dracula and has a creepy feel about it, but if so, I didn't experience it. I have long wanted to have a glimpse of the North Sea, so I fulfilled two wishes when I visited, getting more than a glimpse.

Three wishes, because I saw the beautiful ruins of St. Hilda's Abbey, which is pictured below.

St. Hilda's from the pier.

MadPriest told me that I had to order fish and chips in Whitby, so, of course, I obeyed. When the waitress brought my order, it was huge. The fish was as long as my forearm, and on the side was a large pile of chips. The fish was haddock, and it was delicious. The meat was thick, white and firm, but I could eat only about a third of it. Grandpère and I had fish and chips somewhere in the south of England, in Portsmouth, maybe, served from a stand wrapped in newspaper. The meal in Whitby was much tastier.

Gratuitous pictures of Whitby, just because I think the scenes are pretty.

On the coach trip, I sat next to a lovely lady from Wakefield. She was a widow in her 80s, and she often went on the senior coach trips in the area, because she didn't drive, and she thought she needed to get out. The cost of the trip was only £12.50, which I thought was good value. Our guide talked some of the time, but not incessantly, as some do. That tends to get on my nerves. Once we arrived in Whitby, we were on our own, which suited me very well, as I could roam on my own and go where I pleased.