Harrogate and Whitby 21-30 Mar 19

Heading North again - this time to Harrogate and Whitby, Harrogate to make the most of free tickets to the Harrogate Motorhome Show, and Whitby because it has been ages since we have been there and this was the time of the year to go before it gets too crowded. We set off late on the Thursday, breaking the journey at the Cackyvan and Motorhome Club site at Clumber Park for a very peaceful night's rest, albeit reading the notices and chatting to the wardens it would appear that thievery and nuisance boy racers abound at this site. Shame.

The gates to Clumber Park

On Friday we continued the journey to Harrogate, getting stuck in the traffic in the middle of the town. We found the rally being organised by the Leeds DA of the Camping Club at a wonderful little spot between Harrogate and Knaresborough. We quickly parked up and then followed the foot/cycle path into Harrogate to meet up with Martin for lunch and a bimble around this lovely town, enjoying a gin tasting at Slingsbys and finishing up with a cup of coffee in Bettys.

Bettys

That famous Yorkshire battle cry

On Saturday we went into the Motorhome show, meeting up with those lovely people at Giso Microfibre (excellent products - highly recommended) before retiring back to the Gardeners Arms for a lively evening with some of the folk from Leeds DA. What a great pub this is - a tiny cottage that has been converted and left much as it always has been.

Giso

The Gardener's Arms in Bilton

On Sunday we walked along the old railway track into Ripley, had a cream tea in the tea rooms, a wander around the castle and a "world famous"(?) Ripley Ice cream.

Ripley Castle

On Monday 25th we headed over the North York Moors to our next site just outside Whitby. There we met up with Martin once again and walked into town along the cliff top, stopping at the Whitby brewery for a couple of pints in the sunshine, then into Whitby for more "world famous" fish and chips. We get the impression that "world famous" is a much overused expression in Yorkshire.

Whitby Holiday Park

Whitby Abbey

The following day we had a very long walk along the world famous cliff tops to the world famous Robin Hood's Bay where we had a world famous fish finger sandwich in a charming little tea room. Having completed the 7 mile walk we decided to get the bus back into Whitby for dinner. It's awful that a taxi would have been cheaper than getting the bus.

The Meggermobile

Robin Hood's Bay

Whalebone Arch Whitby

199 steps

On Wednesday 27th we purchased another overpriced bus pass and popped into Staithes and then into Scarborough. Staithes is lovely. Scarborough is not.

Staithes

Scarborough

Anne Bronte's grave

Thursday was bright and sunny so we decided that we would re-do the walk to Robin Hood's Bay, but take in the world famous Boggle Hole (bit of an anticlimax) then walk all the way back along the old railway into Whitby, have dinner then back to the van. 21 miles later...…..

Boggle Hole

On Friday we were a bit stiff  from the previous day's exertions, so we decided upon a gentle bimble around Whitby. We did notice that a Friday, bright sunshine, payday and the end of the month brought out the crowds and it was noticeably busier. We thought that we would probably hate to be here at the height of summer (or what passes for summer in North Yorkshire).

Kippers - delicious, but a bit smelly

On Saturday we headed for home, stopping off at Brownhills for a look around the new motorhomes. A rather nice Rapido was the only one to catch our eye, but a bit out of our price range.

Chatsworth Derbyshire 12-17 Mar 19

This time of the year is probably the only time that we can afford to go to the C&MC Site at Chatsworth, and even then the prices rose on Fri 15th to a rather eye watering £25.60 a night, probably the most we've ever spent on a camp site, especially in winter. In France you would pay that for a 5 star site in high season, complete with pool, shop, restaurant and bar! Still, it is a lovely site in a beautiful location, even if the crows are bloody noisy.

The Pheasant was there to welcome us

The weather forecast for the weekend was not particularly good, which was probably one of the reasons why we were able to get onto this popular site. We arrived on Tuesday after a bit of a blustery and wet drive up. We picked our pitch away from overhanging trees as the forecast had a yellow warning of wind, then set out to have a wander around the vicinity of the house and have a mooch around the rather nice shops and cafes they have created in the old stable block.

The secret door to the site from Chatsworth House Grounds

On Wednesday it poured with rain. We wandered into Baslow in the hope of finding a footpath through to the estate's farm shop at Pilsley but the roads were busy and fast and there were no off road paths to get there. Still, we had a good explore of the nice village, retuned to the van to dry off, have lunch, and then set out to explore the village of Edensor.

an odd gate, but she looks good behind bars.

Some of Capability Brown's finest work

It struck me as odd that John F Kennedy's sister's grave should be sullied by a brash marker stone announcing that her brother visited

Edensor

Thursday we were again thwarted in our attempts to navigate a circular route as there is a lot of private, inaccessible, land around the Chatsworth estate. We still managed to cram in quite a few foot miles exploring the extensive grounds of the estate and discovering the creative systems and engineering that supports the famous Chatsworth House Cascade.

On Friday we walked the 3.5 mile route to Bakewell. What we were not told, however, was that there is a pigging great hill between Chatsworth and Bakewell! Still, we soldiered on over the bump and down a muddy bridleway into the pleasant town where we discovered a fantastic sweetshop, a lovely pub (and pub lunch) and the delights of Bakewell Pudding. Fortified, the bump on the way back was much easier to handle, even given a couple of rucksacks worth of shopping (Prosecco is HEAVY!). By the time we arrived back, the site was filling up with lots of shed-draggers, taking forever to plant their wobble-boxes on their pitches. 

Short cut? It is marked on the map as a bridleway!

The following day it pee'd down all day, but as it was the final day of the 6 nations we spent the whole day listening to the rain and getting increasingly more disgruntled at the rugby. I don't think that she left the van once all day. 

Sunday was bright and clear and a good run back down the M1 and A14 to arrive home before lunch and start the washing and packing ready for the next outing.

Crystal Palace 6-11 Mar 19

Oh look, we are back here again. The site was due to close, but Bromley council have given a stay of execution for another year. It does mean, however, that there will be no investment in the site and the ablutions really could do with a  spruce up. 

Anyway, arrived on the Wednesday, relaxed and on Thursday it was out early to visit the Royal Hospital Chelsea and the National Army Museum before visiting mother for dinner that evening. The Royal Hospital is a great place to visit - and the café does sell some scrummy cake! The National Army Museum has been modernised since my last visit and has been somewhat sanitised in order to appease the easily upset little snowflakes that seem to inhabit this country. Shame really, but it is still a good day out. We then caught the bus in order to get a better view of some old haunts. Big mistake! We could have walked quicker, the traffic problems being compounded by another stabbing in West Kensington.

Never Pooh-Pooh a Pooh Blackadder"

Napoleon's little horse (well, I suppose he was a little man) Marengo has lost a bit of weight.

Friday it was a day of admin sorting out the mother in law. A long, tiring day. On return to the site we found a self-build van had parked up far too close to us as their hook up cable was too short. Not a problem, but this van had a worse than usual Rattle-Rattle-Bang sliding door and the occupants found the need to use it at least every 5 minutes. 

Saturday we relaxed. We walked to the local shops, admired the Everyman cinema, which has been beautifully renovated, despaired of finding anything vaguely edible in the awful Sainsburys, wandered around the delightful street market watching the vendors desperately trying to hold down their stalls in the high wind, bought a nice bottle of prosecco and went back to the van to settle down for an afternoon of 6 Nations rugby.

Sunday is a day best forgotten. The imbeciles next door started with the Rattle Rattle Bang of that poxy sliding door at 0615am. Despite several loud yells suggested that they may like to shut the **** up, they carried on, finally leaving the site at 0700hrs. Now fully awake, we set out far too early for a Harlequins game at 1pm. A big breakfast and several pints of foaming ale did a lot to numb the pain of a truly abject performance on the pitch. Disgruntled and mightily pee'd off we went back to Crystal Palace. At least the Rattle Rattle Bang van had gone.

Noisy barstewards

Monday it was up and negotiating the awful roads out of London. What complete and utter tit decided that a 20mph limit was a good idea?