From Shakespeare to Dracula. 🙂 After an amazing Sunday dinner at Craig’s parents, he and Tom went to the Boro game while I did a bit of shopping, ostensibly for winter pants for school. However, there was a craft shop with shelves of gorgeous yarn, so I got a bit side-tracked. I could have bought enough for about five projects, but I whittled my choices down to the one project-worth that I couldn’t live without. Mmmm… It’s gorgeous and it on its way to becoming a cardigan. I’m taking some time off A Storm of Swords (aka Game of Thrones III) and am subway knitting again.

Anyway, Whitby. We drove down and stopped by the beach in Saltburn first for a ride on the (very old) cable car and some fun on the boardwalk with the 2p machines. It seemed like a game for very young children, and we didn’t have many 2p coins, so we didn’t play for long. We then wandered around until we found a place with a view serving fish and chips. Yum! Properly fortified, we continued on our way to Whitby.

Not as good as a monorail, but we didn't have to hike up the hill from the beach.

Even win you win, you don't really win.

We had fish and chips here. It's overlooking the water, really.

They even have cows at the beach here!

We were staying at The White House which was a little out of town, next to the golf course. We had a private balcony with chairs and a table, which we didn’t really get to enjoy, because it was raining most of the time we were in our room (or the wooden furniture was still too wet). We weren’t there to hang out in the room, though, no matter how good the view. As soon as we checked in, Craig headed outside and started cheering on the golfers, much to their surprise, I imagine. After he went inside, he looked back out and saw a golfer looking up expectantly after making his shot.

Craig, taking a break from cheering on the golfers.

Whitby is a touristy seaside town, but not obnoxiously so. There were more arcades with the 2p games and plenty of places selling “rock” (candy sticks that look like they should be peppermint-flavored but aren’t). Whitby is famous for jet, so there were also plenty of jet shops, but I couldn’t find anything I liked. Because of the Dracula connection, Whitby also attracts a number of goths, so there were plenty of amber and crystal jewelry shops. After much looking, I managed to find a few pieces I liked. I wear quite a lot of jewelry made of rocks (what ever is less precious than semi-precious, for the most part), so I was happy to find a stone pendant that was purple and green. The girl told me what it was, but I can’t remember. I also got a pair of mother of pearl earrings and a silver ring.

Anyway, we were wandering the streets (shopping), because we had arrived a bit late to see the castle and abbey. We did manage to see several groups of Morris dancers and a pair of Irish dancers performing as part of folk week.

This one speaks for itself. There was one guy in their troupe that had not met retirement age.

The next morning, we headed out early to climb the 199 steps to the abbey and castle. The church was appropriately goth/ spooky. I wasn’t surprised to hear that Whitby was chosen for that reason, rather than being the author’s hometown or a random choice. I was still on ruin-overload, so I didn’t take everything in as carefully as I could have, but it was an enjoyable way to while away the morning.

Dracula and goths love this place.

On the way back down to town, I was able to pet a miniature horse being kept next door. From there, we went on a tour boat that was a replica of Captain Cook’s ship. We got good seats, and the weather was nice, but someone hadn’t let their three- or four-year-old kid go to the bathroom beforehand. Needless to say, we weren’t fully out of the harbor before he started grabbing his crotch and crying. Before too much longer, he was screaming. I would have held him up and let him pee over the side. But that’s just me. He ended up using the camouflage of a shopping bag as he screamed in protest at being ordered to wet his pants. Good for him. I hope he starts wetting his pants regularly, since that’s what he was told to do.

This is the one where I’m petting him, not the one where he is trying to eat my arm.
This is a photo of the excursion after ours. I hope they watched their step.

We had fun wandering around Whitby without any real plans. We ate lots of delicious food. I remember that. 🙂 We also took a tour of James Cook’s home. He seems to be quite the hometown hero there, even though it’s really not his hometown, just where his seafaring career began. The only other thing that really sticks out was what a rough collection of employees the hotel had. It was quite a nice place and everyone was very friendly and professional, but they were all covered in tattoos and looked like they could handle themselves in a bar fight. No matter how friendly the smile, girls with multiple neck tattoos kind of scare me. Guys, too, come to think of it.

Next on the itinerary: Edinburgh Fringe