Farewell Tour of the North – Part II: York

We caught the bus from Leeds over to York on a steaming hot afternoon and easily located Si and Mel’s newly purchased house. Having a local guide in a touristy town like York is a boon as Si was rapidly able to direct us into all of the nice pubs and past all of the tourist traps. We collected Rob from the station later in the evening and established our plan for the following days over a few pints of Si’s home-brewed nettle ale. (Nic, Rob & Si make lots of plans over a few pints …)

Our first outing was by train to Scarborough, to walk some of the coastal path in North York Moors national park. An initially overcast morning soon gave way to blue skies and sunshine as we left the beach behind and hit the cliff tops. The scenery was stunning, with waves crashing against dramatic rocky outcrops to our right, rolling wheat fields to our left, and a profusion of birds and butterflies all around us. One particular species that caught our eye was the vivid Cinnabar moth (as later identified by Oanh, to us it was just the black and red bug), swarms of which covered purple thistle flowers.

The only downside of the dry, breezy, summery conditions was that we found ourselves suffering from varying levels of hay fever.

The Yorkshire Coast nort of Scarborough.

Cinnabar moth on thistle.

Friday, we set off for the Yorkshire Dales, where we had a room booked in the YHA at Grinton Lodge, a former shooting lodge in Swaledale. Arriving at a vacant reception, we stowed our food in the kitchen, whipped up sandwiches for lunch and set off onto the Hackerton Moor. Despite a bit of confusion regarding which path we were (or weren’t) on, we managed to stumble along the top of the ridge, battered by wind but surrounded by stunning views of wheat fields, buttercup-filled meadows, and grey stone barns and walls.

Every so often we would pass short two-metre lengths of waist-high stone wall, rows of them separated by twenty metre gaps stretching up and down the hillside. Eventually we realised that they were for grouse shooters to shelter behind, and the probable reason for having them all in a row was that, much like a driving range, having everybody shooting from the same place and in the same direction is probably a Very Good Idea.

We also came across a small hunting lodge with one of its doors swinging ajar. Curiosity got the better of us and we poked our heads inside to discover, on the wall, a stuffed grouse (normal enough), but on the table, a stuffed sheep (decidedly weird and just a little bit creepy).

Shortly after, we descended to the River Swale, and made our way back along the floor of the valley. Several village pubs intervened between us and our hostel, but we persevered and made it home in the end.

Swaledale, near Grinton Lodge (our YHA).

A scenic, if windy, spot to pause for lunch.

The next morning, we waited for the school groups to clear out of the way before enjoying breakfast overlooking a stunning Dales vista. We drove further up the valley to the small village of Muker, from where we set off on a rather crowded path through meadows alongside the river. Eventually, everyone but us crossed over to the other side of the river, and peace was regained. The path climbed beside the river past dramatic gorges that I’m sure must, in wetter times, house equally dramatic waterfalls. Now they were but mere trickles.

After pausing at Keld for coffee and cakes, we circled back over the top of Kisdon Hill for more stunning views. Difficult to say more really: just magnificent scenery.

Breakfast with a view too!

Further up the River Swale, currently running very low.

Oanh was there too, just mostly behind the camera.

Typical Dales scenery: stone barns and steep hills.

Typical Dales humour (it was too, the pub).

Back in York, we resumed our tour of York’s finer drinking establishments, including the York Brewery, which would be impossible to locate without local knowledge: down a back street, past some trash cans into an alley, through an unmarked door and up a flight of stairs: a tiny pub atop the brewery serving a variety of ales brewed on site. An excellent Italian dinner was followed by a hilarious (to us) game of drunken charades in a pub and a walk home interrupted by assaults on York Castle and the city walls.

Perhaps as a consequence, Sunday morning began somewhat slowly. Oanh and I had a train mid-afternoon, so we went for a gentle circumnavigation of York, visiting some of its green spaces (including Simon’s allotment) before making our way to the station and thence home. All in all, a fun, if rather exhaustingly active visit to the north (and a resolution that, should we ever return to the UK, we should live up near the hilly bits…)

More photos here.