I don’t realise how lucky I am to have grown up where I did until I return home. Today, we finally got to take Stu to Whitby, a fish and chip-crazy, lovely northern seaside town often frequented by goths.
Whitby is jam-packed with history. From being the birthplace of Bram Stoker and the inspiration for Dracula through to the departure port for Christopher Columbus on his epic trip discovering the Americas. A pair of whale bones create an archway from which you can descend towards the beach (or in our case, today, the incredibly choppy waters). After three days of rain (and floods – lots of floods), today offered a beautiful respite both from the weather and from being cooped up in the house.
Whitby is a city full of fond memories. I’ve been with my parents, with friends, with school and with Guides. It always amazes me how a place, certain views of cafes, certain lights, sights and smells can really draw you back to another time and a whole other frame of mind.
The water was incredibly choppy and Stuart had us all in a fizz standing right by the water trying to take it all in…what can I say, he likes to take in the experience, and I worry the worst will happen and he’ll be swept out.
It was impressively choppy.
By the pier, we watched fisherman haul in the catch of the day which was a strange experience in our now meatless lives. Seeing the fish they’d caught laid out by their feet experience their last struggled gulps and flinches was something I found tinged with intrigue, confusion and tragedy. After briefly pondering whether I would enjoy a fish with my chips, I had my decision affirmed negative.
The day was short, but in general, wonderful. Breathing salty air into my lungs and stretching my legs up the 199 steps towards the Abbey was enlivening. Making do with chips and peas for a vegan lunch wasn’t the best, but in general, the day was great. I saw, I reminisced, I learnt and I grew. What more could I ask for from a day by the sea? 🙂