You’d think with all the to-ing and fro-ing between Home and Harrogate we’d done over the previous months, that when my mum’s house sale was finalised, and the dreaded drive up the M42/M1/M18/A1 motorways were behind us, we’d choose a different direction for a holiday.
T had decided I needed a holiday, the last year had been a stressful time to say the least, so after arriving home on 19th June, he booked us onto a campsite for a week from 24th June.
We’d had a glorious week at this site in May 2012 that had left us with some wonderful memories –
Yes, anyone who has read my blog will realise this was Whitby Holiday Park, and yes, it meant another dreaded M42/M1/M18/A1 again – but I’d got to the stage I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do anymore, I didn’t want to go on holiday and I didn’t want to stay at home.
I know T had meant well when he booked the holiday, he knew how much I’d enjoyed it before and he also knew how I’d felt my Yorkshire roots had been severed when I finally pulled the door to on my mums house, which is why he’d decided on Whitby.
The 24th arrived, but I still couldn’t summon up any enthusiasm for the holiday, I felt as if I was trapped in a bubble, so apart from putting my clothes in the motorhome, T did everything else. Four hours later we pulled into the holiday park.
Everything looked exactly as it was the day we left in 2012, even the sun was shinning as it was then, my mind immediately drifted back to Jasper, had his spirit joined us I wondered.
This holiday followed almost the same pattern as our previous visit, though we didn’t venture offsite with the van this time.
The walk down onto Saltwick Bay was easier, as both Sal and Cindy took the steep slope down in their stride. Looking down to Saltwick Nab from the Cleveland Way footpath. We walked into Whitby a couple of times, along the Cleveland Way. Parked just outside Whitby Abbey, this was just screaming out to have it’s photograph taken, an old series ll/llA Land Rover ice cream van :-) A monument to Captain James Cook, b.1728, the famous Yorkshire Explorer looks out over Whitby harbour.
On the Saturday we decided to visit the picturesque fishing village of Staithes.
So another walk into Whitby along the clifftop, then down through the town to the bus station.
Im sure every dog and his person had decided to do the same thing, I counted seven dogs (with their people obviously) waiting in the queue with us.
It was certainly worth the trip, as I got my first ‘Big Hairy Dog’ fix while sat outside the Cod and Lobster pub, from an enormous German Shepherd Husky cross.
This dog could moult for England, and after a ten minute cuddle, he had donated most of his coat to me, the rest was floating around the harbour like snow :eek: Staithes Harbour. The Cod and Lobster is the cream building in the centre of the photo. An artist at work in the harbour. We were treated to the wonderful east coast sunsets again, and by the end of the holiday, I’d started to unwind a bit, typically, just in time to go back home.
A month later we were packing the motorhome again for another holiday revisit.
This time it was Charmouth in Dorset.
I had bitter sweet memories of this holiday, last year as it had been Jasper’s last holiday, so I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. Last year’s holiday site was fully booked sowe’d decided on another one just outside Charmouth. A beautiful well maintained site, but a major drawback with its location.
We usually hook the motorhome up, then either walk or use public transport to get about. We knew we were a couple of miles from the beach via road, but had hoped there may have been a shortcut via a footpath, but no such luck, and the nearest bus stop was over a mile away.
The walk wouldn’t have bothered T and me, but the temperature was in the 30’s and Little Sal, who had recently been diagnosed with kidney disease, had slowed down considerably.
So the next day, we unhooked the motorhome and set off for Charmouth
Could things get any worse, our holiday last year had been in June, and we’d spent some quality time on the beach with the dogs, but here we were, confronted with big signs everywhere NO DOGS allowed on the beaches July and August.
We went for a short walk along the cliff path, but both dogs were struggling, so we went back down and sat on the grass at the edge of the River Char.
Looking down at the dog UNfriendly beach.
Luckily Michelle our elder daughter and Louis her son, had arranged to join us later in the week, so the next day we decided to just chill on the site.
Michelle arrived on the Friday morning.
After enquiring at the reception for the location of a dog friendly beach, we all piled into her car and set off for Eype. No wonder this was dog friendly, there was hardly any in sand in sight, it was full of big pebbles. Great for an athletic young dog, but not for a tiny Yorkie, who kept falling between the pebbles. Poor Sal was struggling to keep her footing too, so we called it a day and went to the pub.
Louis wanted to go onto the beach, so the next day, T stayed onsite with Sal and Cindy, and Michelle, Louis and I went down to Charmouth. Louis befriended a young boy with a dingy, so at least someone enjoyed their holiday.
The next day we left the site early to go home. We decided August would be a no for holidays, so the next revisit was West Runton.
Laburnum Holiday Park really has made a mark on our holiday destinations. This was out third visit and it certainly won’t be our last.
This site is a perfect location. Five minutes walk into the village of West Runton, where there is a regular bus service into Sherringham, Cromer or further afield if you wish. Pitched on the clifftop overlooking the North Sea. Just across the tarmac and standing at the fence…… …..this was the view. A ten minute amble and we were on the glorious Norfolk beaches, where, if the tide is out, it is possible to walk into Sherringham or Cromer.
We did the walk into Sherringham three times, catching the bus back to the village to save Little Sal tiring too much. An amazing Trompe l’oeil on the seafront at Sherringham, depicting the crab fisherman for which the area is famous. This was a puzzling sight on Sherringham beach. Had the sea lined up all the pebbles in a straight line, or perhaps it was the sea fairies.
The sun shone the whole week, we ate some good food, drank some good wine, and came home feeling rejuvenated.
Here are a few more photos, from what is fast becoming my favourite holiday location.
Little did I know, it was going to be Little Sal’s last beach holiday :-(