A week in Whitby – day seven


I woke up feeling quite sad, this was the last full day of what had been a truly fantastic week.

What more could anyone have wished for. Earlier this year, we had purchased our motorhome, which for me had been a long standing dream. We were in Yorkshire, for obvious reasons one of my favourite places in the UK, and after almost six weeks of more or less of continual rain, we’d had a week of totally stunning weather.

I could hear the seagulls outside. On the mornings of the sea frets, there had been an eerie silence, so I was hoping this was a good sign, as I reached up and unclipped the blind of the rear window.

I couldn’t have wished for a better sight…………

I unfastened the window and opened it as wide as it would go, reached for my camera to record what my eyes were seeing……….the start of another beautiful day!!!

Much on the same lines as yesterday, we sat outside for breakfast then discussed how we’d spend the final day. We both agreed there was no point in driving anywhere as we had all we wanted on the site.

T had called into a pub in Whitby earlier in the week, and found they would be screening a rugby match he wanted to watch, so his plans for the afternoon were sorted.

Firstly though, Sal and Jasp needed a walk, so we set off along the Cleveland Way in the direction of Robin Hoods Bay. I had viewed this section of the walk through my binoculars the previous evening, and although it wasn’t a proper footpath, it still looked OK for Jasper to cope with.

More a track than a footpath, the various fields were separated by swing gates to walk through, everything was going well, until we came across a flight of wooden steps straddling a ditch, they were far too steep for Jasp to manage, and without a slope at the side, reluctantly we had to turn back, probably a good job anyway, as it was getting quite warm by the time we got back to the van, and both dogs were quite happy to lie in the shade, while T and I sat soaking up the suns rays.

T was quite happy to stay where he was, as he’d be walking the mile into Whitby later,  but I wanted one final walk in the local bay, and as the tide was out, it was a perfect opportunity. Jasp wouldn’t have managed it, but I thought  Sal would enjoy a run on the beach, so grabbing my camera, we set off.

Sal ran almost the full length of the slope down to the beach, leaping off the three foot drop at the bottom, where we’d struggled with Jasp earlier in the week.

I walked out to the rock, which is just visible from this photo and Sal posed for her photo. The campsite is just visible to the top left of this pic.

We spent about an hour wandering around the beach and rocks, then went back up the slope to the site, I can’t believe how steep it was, unlike the other day when we were taking a couple of strides and stopping for Jasp, I had no excuse this time, Sal was already at the top, waiting for me and wagging her tail, by the time I, puffing like I’d just smoked about fifty fags (not that I’ve ever smoked) caught up with her.

Walking back through the campsite site entrance, I got back to the van just in time, as T was waiting to set off into Whitby. “I’ll be back in about two or three hours” he shouted back to me as he walked away.

Both dogs asleep, I’m sat in the sun, watching the world go by, with a bottle of Peroni in my hand………does life get any better?

Suddenly my phone rang…………it’s T……..”Vic, you won’t believe this” he carries on to tell me,  he’d got to the pub, just in time for the start of the game, walked into the lounge, to find a local derby of two Yorkshire football teams on the TV. Being in Yorkshire, with two Yorkshire teams on the TV, he didn’t think it a good idea to ask if he could watch the rugby instead. So he was going for a wander around the town.

After about an hour, thinking he’d probably be on his way back, I decided I’d take the dogs along the coast path to meet him. Half way there, I thought I’d better phone him to tell him what I was doing, just incase he’d decided to find a bus back. It was a good job I did, he was just leaving and his plan was to walk back along the beach. So, change of plan, he set off up Donkey Road to the cliff top path. Sal and Jasp were a picture, they couldn’t believe who they saw walking towards them, and charged up to greet him.

That evening, T had the mixed remains of yesterdays curry, I had beans on toast again, and we finished another bottle of red.

Looking out of the window later in the evening, I saw the beginning of a what I thought would be a beautiful sunset, so grabbing my camera, for the last time this holiday, I set off along the clifftop towards Whitby (again) for my finale photo.


We had to be off site by 10am, so no leisurely wake up, breakfast etc. it was all hands on deck preparing the van for the off.

Calling to visit my mum in Harrogate on the way back to the midlands, we arrived home at 8pm, exhausted, but happy.


A week in Whitby – day one

Since purchasing our motorhome in March, the weather hadn’t been too kind to us, and apart from a couple of day trips, we had only managed a three day break at the beginning of April to Upton on Severn, where we got a tad wet, to say the least.

Around the same time as booking the Upton trip and hoping the weather would improve, we had also booked a week in May to visit Whitby, North Yorkshire, but having almost constant rain for around five weeks, we were beginning to despair that this holiday would be a washout too.

As the 20th May drew closer, we started checking the weather forecast. It had started to look promising………dry and getting warmer. All I wanted was to be able to go on holiday without getting soaked, so the ‘dry’ sounded good, the ‘getting warmer’ sounded even better 🙂 What we ended up with was beyond my wildest dreams……………


We woke to a dry and fairly warm day. Packing? nah! no packing required, I lifted an armful of clothes from the wardrobe, still on hangers, walked outside, into the motorhome, and hung them straight up in that wardrobe. My memory of the north east coast was of a cool breeze  blowing off the sea, so I decided it better to take plenty of warm fleeces, trousers, waterproofs etc, perhaps one vest and a couple of base layers. T’s packing was even easier, white t-shirts and shorts (his 365 days a year attire).

Little Sal and Jasper had taken more organising, had we got enough food with us, the bowls, the leads, harnesses, Jasps waterproof coat. I had also decided to buy a couple of travels cages for them, not because they’re unruly in the motor, they’re extremely good travellers, but just in case of the unthinkable happening.

The crates fitted perfectly into the living area of the motorhome, and both dogs settled into them well.

Everything loaded into the motor, we set off.

I hate with a passion the normal route to Yorkshire, so we had decided we’d go via the Humber bridge, added to the fact I’d never seen the bridge, and T wanted to re-live his trucking days of the past.

It was a great choice, once off the M18 the roads were extremely quiet.

Nearing the bridge we saw a signpost for a viewing area, so we detoured for a cuppa, a walk for the dogs and a photo opportunity for me.

Just one slight problem, the car park barrier was only 1.6 metres high, what an odd height this was, I wouldn’t even get my Discovery under that, so no chance with the motorhome, luckily we did find somewhere to park, and I got my photos.

What a magnificent sight this bridge is. Building started in 1973, the first traffic crossed on 24th June 1981, and it was officially opened by the Queen on 17th July 1981.

It spans 1410 metres, which in 1981 was the longest span bridge outside the USA. More information can be found here.

Suitably refreshed, we continued our journey, through Beverley, where I was born, and on through Bridlington and Scarborough, finally arriving at Whitby Holiday Park at 6.30pm.

After booking in and being shown our pitch, we decided we’d pop into Whitby for some much needed fish & chips.

Now anyone who hasn’t eaten Yorkshire fish & chips, hasn’t eaten fish & chips, and Whitby has a reputation of having some of the best. I say some, as my parents chippy was the best ;-). We drove down in the town, parked up on the harbour front, and T went off to the Magpie chippy for the take away.

Our first true holiday, we sat in the motor, scoffing fish & chips, looking out over the harbour and grinning like cheshire cats.

After eating all we could, and the dogs having had a few chips too, T took what was left over to the rubbish bin, followed eagerly by masses of seagulls, hoping there might be something for them. It was like a scene from the film The Birds, they were swooping and diving at him, and the noise they were making, obviously telling all their pals of the possible meal.

Once back on the campsite, everything went like clockwork, it took us about ten minutes to fill it with water, park it level, hook up to the electric and switch the gas on.

Not so when we attempted to make the beds. The lounge area makes either two singles or a massive double, by massive I mean six foot square. I thought it a better idea to make the two singles, so we’d have floor between the beds for the dogs to sleep on, T thought otherwise. After both trying to put our point across to each other, I won, but in the meantime, Sal had taken herself off to bed in the cab area, and Jasp had crashed out in front of the bathroom door, making it a near impossibility to get into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later we each climbed into our own beds, with T mumbling, about the dogs don’t need to sleep between us, they’re happy where they are, and tomorrow night we’ll make up the double.