After leaving Ripon we set off across the North Yorks Moors. Its very remote and bleak and incredibly beautiful. Sheep wander freely here - there are no fences. I do wonder how they manage to herd them up when it's time to send them to market.
Right at the highest point on the Moors there is a pub - The Lion Inn - so naturally we stopped for a pint. I just loved the names of some of the beers they had for sale, like Copper Dragon and Guzzler, and I thought the "Tour de Wot?" was hysterical, because everywhere we had been in Yorkshire had been making such a fuss about the fact that the Tour de France was coming to Yorkshire.
Then, when you buy a pint, it has to be served in the appropriate glass.
Over the years I have heard several people rave about Robin Hood's Bay, a fishing village on the Yorkshire coast just south of Whitby. When the man in the North Yorkshire Moors National Park office also recommended that we visit there it seemed the natural thing to do.
It is uncertain why the place is called Robin Hood's Bay. There is no evidence that Robin of Sherwood was ever anywhere near the village. What is certain is that it is a location for fishermen, smugglers, and people looking for dinosaur relicts.
|View down to Robin Hood's Bay|
We arrived at Robin Hood's bay and decided that it was a suitable time to find our accomodation for the night. We ended up in a B&B a few streets back from the ancient road that led down the hill to the bay. The B&B was very comfortable, and we were right up in the attics, so there were issues with head height for one of us (hint: it wasn't me!).
|The route down to the coast|
When we got to the bottom we had a drink overlooking the sea, and then a large group of people arrived to had just finished doing the Coast to Coast walk - Robin Hood's Bay is the end point of the walk.
|The end of the road|
We then went to look for the fish and chips place that had been recommended to us by the man in the North Yorks Moors National Parks office. It was difficult to find, as it was down a side alley. We went in and Andy ordered fish and chips. Of course, as many of you will know, I don't eat fish. So I could see a chicken burger on the menu, and asked for that. "We don't have any". I then asked for something else from the menu that wasn't fish (I can't remember what at this stage). "We don't have any". So I asked if there was anything that wasn't fish or seafood. The man thought about it for a while then answered in a surly manner "Chips". So that was the extent of my dinner that night - chips. Both the fish and the chips had been cooked in beef dripping. I know a number of people consider that a great treat, but it quickly became a bit rich and overpowering to Andy and me, not being used to it. But we had found a lovely spot overlooking the beach to eat our dinner, and watch the people out on the beach looking for jet or fossils.