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ingram

I wrote this back then and some of you may have seen it in other places; but for those of you who haven't: 'yer 'tis:------

PART 1

Back in the summer, you know, when it was really, really hot and some were away in their 'vans' melting like Mars Bars in the oven but having a good time, we were at home. Wanting to go away, but thinking it just too hot to be in a tin box we decided to wait until the weather cooled; sensible we thought and anyway my cousin had popped over from New Zealand and being the one who lent us his Camper when we were over there and got us 'into' it we wanted him to see what he had made us do.

Well the weather did cool off some, and we had to decide whether to 'Go Now' or wait 'till after the bank holiday so we could have a week before Angela had to return to school / work. We are not into planning so we decided to 'Go Now' and risk failing to find vacancies on camp sites over the Bank Holiday weekend if we were not home by then. As it happened we had no trouble at all. All we needed to decide was 'where to'. Well, I had already planned to visit the British Lawnmower Museum in Southport one day so we decided to go there.
Being in Hampshire that is quite a distance to go so I had a scratch around to find a few 'Things to do and Places to see On The Way'. So, now I have an A4 sheet of paper upon which is a copy of a map of Britain from my road atlas of same. There are now 18 red dots on the map and these are what we are going to see. We---ll we'll see some of them............
Now we have to decide which way to go; a quick decision made; the nearest dot is the Milton Keynes Museum of Industrial Life, so we'll go there. The Renault Master is ready and loaded, watered, oiled and fed and it's Sunday morning and sunny and while I'm driving along Angela is with map, plotting a route; I mentioned we don't go in for planning ahead too much didn't I? We don't have any of this fangled dangled 'Navigator Stuff' either, just an out of date AA Road Atlas and a London A to Z from 1970 in case we should take a wrong turn and end up there. The Renault Master is rather slow and noisy and I prefer to keep off motorways with it because it doesn't cruise as fast as lorries do and it gets in their way and, well, it's so boring too. I sometimes refer to the Renault as the RM which is funny because I used to drive Routemaster Buses which are also known as RM's except for the long ones which are RML's: I bet you are glad to have read this far to have found *that* out.
So we are at Milton Keynes and what a super afternoon we had; a really interesting museum with people who take the trouble to escort you around some parts of it and chat about the exhibits and the sun shone. They have a working telephone exchange which can be 'played' with and as Angela was a telephone switchboard operator in an earlier life and I was a telephone engineer ( trainee failed ) once upon a time, you can guess that we were getting into a bit of right Nos-Strauger in there.

Tomorrow we visit the Foxton Locks on the canal so head oop north a bit to Kettering and find a nice little CL / CS with a toilet but no paper.

PART 2

So we wake up near Kettering and before we go I want to visit 'Wicksteed Park' because Wicksteeds used to make all those cast iron childrens playground slides and roundabouts and things and as a nipper I visited an aunt in Kettering a couple of times and we walked to Wicksteed park to use the playground there.

So we drove in to the entrance and saw a sign saying £5 to park!! Blxxxy Norah!! We drove around the 'manwhotakesthemoney' ( orratherhedoesnt ) and drove out again as did the two cars ahead of us. We need to do food shopping before we hit the road so follow signs to 'superstores' up into the town and there's a Lidl but miss the turning. Ah look a Morrisons, we've heard of them 'cos they wanted to buy Safeway and hear they're good: quick right turn and into their entrance drive heading for the carpark.........ahhh wots this? Pay to park?? well maybe you get the fee back at the till after shopping.........aaaaahhhhhh wots this ???? a notice says 'No vehicles over 1 1/2 tons' What??...worse still the notice is written on a height barrier!!!! It's definitely higher than the usual six foot six but I don't think the van'll go under. Don't I know how high my van is you ask? Yes I do *but there is no sign on the barrier saying how high the barrier is*. Big queue of traffic behind now and it stays there while I manage a 5 point turn thank goodness we're only 18 feet long: it's really out of character for me but I confess to giving Morrissons a 2 foot V sign as we departed. Ah! Sainsbury's but you have to pay there too; a stupidly narrow twisty entrance way and no visible parking spaces big enough for us, so another quick V sign and off into the country. (and an extra V sign for Kettering in general )

Foxton Locks....a nice 'country' car park for *only* a pound, ( my first ever job, I was paid a pound a day ) , a fifteen minute walk over the canal bridge and along the towpath..........wow.......ten locks in a row and you can'y see the bottom one from the top and it is *hot*. There is a 'passing pool' halfway down and lockkeepers are controlling who goes when. The boaters have to do their own winding, pushing and shoving though.
The best way to arrive at Foxton Locks is on foot. If you arrive by narrowboat you have about an hour of hard graft winding and pulling and pushing and sweating if it's hot, or dripping if it's raining. Each to their own I guess; I do like boats and water though. We bought a flowery painted plastic pot as a present for ma-inlaw and an ice cream.
Returned to car park for a salad lunch but the peace and tranquility was somewhat ruined by one of those 'Whippy' ice cream vans with it's horribly noisy diesel engine throbbing away. Do you know people actually eat that stuff? I ran one of those 'whippy' vans for a time many moons ago: about the most unhygenic thing in catering; far far worse than one of those 'kebab burners'.
You should ( or rather you shouldn't ) see some of the tricks the blokes would get up to to get more air ( more air, less ice cream + more profit ) into the mix. At the end of the day one was supposed to empty the tank of remaining contents and throw it away and strip and clean the Carpiagani 'works'. Do what?? I always emptied the tank and put it in the fridge but when some blokes finished work at 8 or 9 pm on a hot summer day they just wanted to get to t'pub for a few pints of Gwuince.........turn the machine off and let it melt back to liquid and warm through nicely 'till tomorrows re-freeze.................and some of you lot getting jittery about your tank water............

I soon moved on to a 'Hard' van and became known as Mr Rossi.

We're on the road in the trusty RM again heading for Northwich in Cheshire and the 'Anderton Lift' ; another canal, another feat of engineering........this is quite a long way and having only vaguely planned a route Angela is in control of the map again. We are heading for the Peak District but don't know how far we'll get today; motorway avoidance being a priority and plenty of stops for a cupoftheoldrosy whenever the fancy takes us.
We actually get to camp in a Club site near Bakewell.........

PART 3

We have had a very pleasant drive today and we have arrived in the peak district and chosen to find a Club site in a village called Youlgreave. It is stone buildings and narrow streets and lots of cars parked. Turn off at the church and it's even narrower: just manage to squeeze between a carelesly parked van and someone's house and we are soon out twixt the fields again and at the site. Yes, they have room, electricity and no toilets, but then we knew that. We get the 'old fogeys discount' here too so we pay less than we do tomorrow in a CL. We find a pitch at the top of the site with super country view. A relaxing evening and early night.

We don't have a 'red dot' for round here but decide to visit Buxton, it being a few years since the last time. A pleasant few hours wandering around but it's turned a bit chilly and windy. No complaints about Buxton.......nice.

So it's off to Northwich for 'The Anderton Lift'. After finding a site, we drive off to have a look at the lift. It's closed, being evening now but we can get some good views of it and meet a bloke from Bootle: 'The Better End of Liverpool' he tells us. He has come down with a basket of pigeons of the 'homing' variety; he hopes. We spend some time watching them being freed.

One can have boat rides up and down the Anderton Lift but they only run twice per day so we decide to be content with 'just looking' and to go direct to our next red dot in the morning. This is just down the road and is The Lion Salt Works.

Being in this canal area and seeing narrowboats back at Foxton makes me think that our RM camper is a bit like one. It has a narrow galley area, the cooker, sink and cupboards on one side; the wardrobe and shower room on t'other. We have to squeeeze past each other, Angela and me. We have to go 'back to front'. If we go 'back to back' we get wedged: it's bottoms, you see. If we try 'front to front', well that just leads to other things and delays dinner.

Back to our 'quiet' CL/ for the night. It is quiet, we being the only people there, except for the farm machinery passing. This is not a farm but a 'machinery contractor' so all the stuff is coming back at the end of the day. I enjoy this sort of thing though, I like places where 'things are happening', we live opposite a farm where 'things happen'.

We are not on a major airport flight path at home though; like we are here!...............

PART 4

Before we leave 'The Anderton Lift' it occurs to me that some may not know
what it is.

It takes barges and narrow boats between the River Weaver and the Trent and
Mersey canal which is about 50ft higher than the Weaver. It is hydraulically
operated, having been recently restored to that means from it's former
electrical operation. It's original purpose was to enable the transfer of salt from the
canal narrow boats to the barges on the Weaver.
Now that leads us nicely to our next red dot, the Lion Salt Works.

We rise early at our CL. Up at about 6.30 to make some tea and turn on the
electric fan heater ( Trago Mills, about 8 squid ) before hopping back to bed
for cosy tea drinking.
An al-fresco breakfast making use of the card table borrowed from pa-in-law.
We do have to do something about getting our own table but more on that later.

We drive the short journey to the salt works, turn in through the gates and
find two Romans being photographed. It's a publicity photo' shoot we are told.
The Roman with the Nike trainers shows us the replica Roman shoes that have
been made at great expense and he tries them on. They do look good; better than
the Nikes.

We are shown around the museum area and have salt making explained to us and
are shown a video on a television without a 'green gun' but the blues and
mauves and reds add a little something, we feel.
Although I did go down a deep salt mine in Germany when I was a teenager I
haven't given much thought to the production of salt since. One just sort of
takes it for granted.
The salt here is obtained from underground water which has run through the
rocksalt. We have a look at a huge derelict barn and the steam pump which is in
need of some renovation.
The entry fee to the salt works is by donation and the suggested amount for
this is not much. We give them more.

There is a huge amount of work ahead to restore this place, some work is
already in progress or completed. Lottery funding has been applied for. We were
talking to the owners / guardians about it which prompted me to mention the
efforts we had made to save the Bus Museum in Portsmouth, at which I had been a
working volunter for about 10 years. Well!! These people came from Portsmouth
too and 'he' had been involved in the Mary Rose project which was just a stones
throw from the bus museum.

So it's time to move on and our next red dot is what you have all been
waiting for since about line 13 of part 1.
Just in case you have not been paying attention, it is 'The British Lawnmower
Museum' in Southport.
Some main road work is needed to get us past Liverpool but we are soon
heading for our destination on some less busy roads. As we near Southport we become
aware that we may have *done it wrong*. It's 'The Southport Flower Show'.
Are we going to be able to find somewhere to stay?........................
You will have to wait 'till part 5 to find out........a................cliff........................hanger.............................

ingram

PART 5

So, where were we?
Yes, heading into Southport and discovering that the Flower Show was on. We had planned on trying the Club site near to the town centre and following the instructions found it easily.
Behind a long wall twixt road and parkland. Just one night? Yes!! Well, that's a relief. Actually, the flower show starts the next day.

This site is shaped like a frying pan: we in the handle end: typical CC site, very clean and neat but rather 'regimented'; great long row of appliance white caravans and campers, until we arrived that is. Our 'silver and black' stood out like a Pontefract Cake, we're glad we don't have an 'appliance white'.

Off to the British Lawnmower Museum; a pleasant 25 minute walk and past some lovely huge old houses mostly turned into flats now though, it seems.
The museum is actually in the top floor of a lawnmower and gardening shop on the corner of a Victorian terrace.
Quite amazing how many lawnmowers can be got in about five rooms. All laid out very nicely and well labelled exhibits; 'Ransomes Sims and Jeffries', ( I have three of those ) 'Greens', 'Atco', 'J-P', ( have one ), 'Qualcast' ( three ), 'Silens Messor', 'Allen' and many more and all for just a pound you know. They also have a lawn edge trimming device, of which I have one at home and was about to take it to the local dump. It is a totally useless piece of kit but if it is worthy of a place in the British Lawnmower Museum, perhaps I should keep it, especially as mine is better than theirs.

A walk back into town and we stop for a 'bag' of chips. They don't have any ready so the girl grabs about four huge potatoes and drops them into a huge bin which immediately and almost silently, spews out the chips; very impressive.

The girl threw them in the boiling fat and before we knew it we had bags of lovely crispy chips: the best ever.

Unfortunately the rest of Southport doesn't live up to either the Museum or the chip shop. It's the litter. I have never seen so much, ankle deep in it; it's not only the morons who put it there, it's the lack of cleaning too. Even the entrance steps to Safeways and the surrounding area were thick with it. It makes me so angry. Once upon a time people cleaned their shopfront areas.................

Next day we are off to..............well, where would someone who likes lawnmowers and chip machines, Renault Masters, Citroen 2CV's and Dyanes and playing with old buses be going from Southport?
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BLACKPOOL

A fairly short hop from Southport and the RM is still going well so far but my right leg has to be rested on the wheel arch for the loud pedal and that makes my knee ache; the clutch takes a lot of effort and the gearchange is similar to stiring almost set concrete. After several days of motoring, my limbs are suffering somewhat. A tram ride is what is needed and is what we get. Parking outside town we board a huge tram, one of the 'balloons' and sit upstairs at front. The 'upstairs conductor' takes our fare and we sit back and enjoy the view. We alight near the Tower because Angela wants to ride to the top. Blxxdy Norah!! it's 12 squid each. Still, we *are* on holiday, so............oh! what? due to extremely high winds the top floors of the tower are closed to the public! Well, that settles that then; we are not paying for only half the fun and anyway, if it's *that* windy maybe we don't *want* to be up there. It *is* that windy; we nearly get knocked down by it as we round the corner.

Back to a tram stop and we get another balloon back to the RM only this time we sit behind the driver. Crikey! there's not much room in a tram cab, cramped is not the word.

An aside:- Blackpool Transport used to run a fleet of Routemaster Buses ( RMs, but you knew that ). They had about twelve and when they decided to sell them in about 1996, the Reading Mainline company, for whom I was driving at the time, decided to buy all of them. I think that this decision may have been one of the factors that lead to their eventual demise. So when Reading Mainline ceased, after having been bought out by Reading Buses, some of these RM's were sold back to 'Transport for London' which of course is pretty well where they started back in 1958 onwards. End of 'aside'.

Our next red dot is not actually in England, but Scotland. It's the Glasgow Museum of Transport and it is free to get in. We made a major decision not to go there though, which is just as well, otherwise we would have to have thought of another name for this report.

So we head off horizontally, give or take a degree or two, across England to somewhere that you will have to wait for part 6 to find out about.

And here it is:-

PART 6

Having left the winds of Blackpool behind and heading for our next red dot, which is actually a white scar, it starts to rain. This is the first rain since leaving home. The weather has been excellent so far with just one overnight shower.
We are on motorway avoidance again, so navigate our way via some lesser A roads to Lancaster and then away towards, Ingleton for the White Scar Caves. This turns out to be, notwithstanding the excellent places visited so far, the 'highlight visit' of our trip, but more on that later.

It's pouring with rain now and we select a CL to try for. It's behind a farmhouse and we pull into the yard and knock on't door. No vacancies!! This is our first failure in nearly a week. We drive into Ingleton and find on-street parking but it's about a 1in 10 hill. The handbrake seems to hold so we go off to seek a phone box. You may have gathered that we are 'low tech. travellers' so we don't have a mobile 'phone.

We have decide to try for a pitch at a club site in Hawes but because of the distance we phone ahead. "Yes! but you *will* be here before six won't you?" Er, will we? How long will it take us from Ingleton? "You should be ok if you hurry!"
We had better do that then. A brisk walk back to the RM on it's 1 in 10 hill and..........................it's still there. Just teasing! Smile

The route to Hawes is via a narrow B road over the Yorkshire Dales; it's a bit of a climb and we are overtaken by a racing tipper lorry. Note:- if you see one you may see more, and we do. We are up high now and this is a hilly and windy road. We pass the White Scar Cave so know where to come tomorrow.
We are driving in cloud now it seems but trying to push on: it's well after five pm.
Suddenly I see what looks like several huge white shields ahead, peering through the mist; what on earth are *they*? I am totally disorientated now, I feel like I'm flying.

As we get nearer it becomes clear......it is the arches of the Ribblehead Viaduct: we could only see through the arches; we couldn't see the structure itself. We'll have a closer look tomorrow.

I'd really love to stop for the night up here and wake up in the morning to, I assume, a splendid view.

We press on to Hawes and arrive with minutes to spare before they close the office. It's here I think that the warden comments on our TV arial. You may as well throw that away, he says. Why, aren't they any good? or is it just bad reception here. Yes, that's it: you need a 50 ft arial up here it seems. Well, we don't, because ( see comment ref. no mobile 'phone ) we don't have a TV. If we wanted to sit and watch TV we could have stayed at home.

We have rather lost track of the days, but discover that it's the Friday of the bank holiday weekend. Well, we won't be going to the Citroen 2CV Club, International Camping Weekend in London now will we?

We have a walk into Hawes centre before dinner, it's not raining here. Nice town but of course, very 'touristy'. There are five 'pubs' in a row. I wonder if they are open all through the winter?

Next morning is bright and sunny again and we are up early, drive into the town to visit the ropemaker shop. This wasn't a red dot; we didn't know of it, but a very interesting visit. I'd never seen ropes being made and, rather like salt, had just taken them for granted. Some machines were working but they go so fast that it's difficult to see what is happening. A good examination of those stationary though, gave us a good idea.
We bought a washing line. It's for tying tree branches while sawing them off. A job that needs doing when we return home.
A quick walk around the town again: the shops were closed last night. We see at least two shopkeepers sweeping their shopfronts and pavements. I *like* it here!

We head off over the Dales again and I was right about the views. I't lovely up here: we arrive at the Caves at 10.20. The next tour is 10.45.

But that will be part 7.

and this is it
PART 7

I have parked the RM in the steeply sloping car park. Having found that we
have about 25 minutes to wait before the next tour, and that the tour is about
80 minutes, I decide to move the van to a flatter place and light the gas for
the fridge.

Will it light? Will it 'eck. Kneeling on the floor with my head stuck in the
fridge trying to look through the spyhole and my right arm stretched up trying
to hold the knob in with one finger while pressing the igniter button with
the other.........don't you just hate doing that?

The 80-minute guided tour of White Scar Cave covers one mile, and includes
one of the largest caverns in the country. Over 330 feet long, with its roof
soaring in places to 100 feet, this is one of the largest caverns in Britain. It
contains literally thousands of delicate stalactites, which hang from the roof
in great clusters.

We pay our money. £6.50 each; it's worth every penny.
We are first in the queue for our hard hats; essential safety wear for the
cave. Our guide is a pleasant lady who speaks very well and clearly. She starts
off giving us a safety talk explaining that if anyone is seen to be in
difficulty in any way, someone must shout her name to let her know.
Angela and I being in the front have the advantage to be able to talk to her
as we walk along, between the stops for the guide's talks.

In the cave there is a river, waterfalls, stalagmites and 'tites and all
sorts of interesting rock features, lots of stairs to climb in one place, and some
viewing platforms . Part of the way is a man made tunnel to get to the caves
proper, otherwise we would be crawling on our bellies in the river. They have
built a steel walkway over the river in places too, so visitors can keep their
feet dry.

The tunnel is not high enough for taller people to walk upright and we are
warned about the need to take care. Angela is ok being only 5ft 2 but at nearly
six foot it is a little difficult for me. Walking with your head bent down and
wearing a peaked hard-had makes it very hard to see where you are going.
Having negotiated the tunnel successfully we receive further warnings about
low 'roof' areas.............there are places so low that it is necesary to
crouch walk something in the manner of a chimpanzee. This is very difficult and
is wicked on the thighs: my limbs are already suffering from the driving, as
mentioned and the strain on the neck, trying to see where you are going, is
severe. Suddenly I have crumpled to my knees in agony. I have hit my head on the
roof, hard, and the shock has jarred my neck and shoulder and knocked me down.
It only takes moments to recover enough to continue but I'm sure feeling a
bit zonked.

This hasn't spoiled the visit for me though. The rest of the tour is
absolutely brilliant. We do of course have to do it all again on the way back.
We all swop places so Angela and I are at the back. We passed one other small
group on our way in and now we meet others on our way out. These other groups
are much much bigger than ours. I'm think it was a good thing to get there
early.

Angela and I get separated from our group while trying to pass one of these
others so we are on our own. The others are not far in front but everytime we
turn a corner they have just disapeared around the next one.
Suddenly we hear footsteps aproaching fast behind us. It can't be one of our
group, we are the last: it must be the Yorkshire Yeti, oh! heck!
It isn't the Yeti. It is a young lady who has been overcome by fear or some
phobia about being so far underground and is making her escape: we let her past
and she races ahead.

We have a quick look around the cave's gift shop and then head off to the
Ribblehead Viaduct. There is a layby with a good view of it so we pull in for a
brew up and rest.

A train appears; one of those 'goods' trains with tipper waggons, taking
coals to Newcastle perhaps. I scrabble for the camera and just get it together in
time to get a shot of the train on the viaduct. Excellent.

It sure is good up here. The sun has gone and it's quite windy, bracing, I'd
say. I bet it's bleak in the winter though.

We stay up here for quite a while and discuss our next visit. We are faced
with a choice of red dots now and have to decide which to go to as they are in
different directions.

We do come to a decision eventually and you will hear about that in part 8.

But first:-

PART 7.5

This is part 7 and a half, because I reported arriving at the camp site in
Hawes, and discovering it is Friday. Well it wasn't. It was Thursday and after
our evening stroll around the town, we decided over dinner to try and stay
another night.

On Friday morning sharp at 9am, the site office opening time, I was there
enquiring for an extra nights stay. "No, sorry, we are fully booked." Damn, so we
get packed up to head for the White Scar Caves, already covered in part 7 if
you remember, and stop off at the office to say goodby.

"A very nice site" comments Angela to the warden, "shame we can't stay
tonight." " Oh but you can; we have had cancellations." we are told. So we do,
returning to place our 'pitch marker' before heading for the caves.

It is quite common apparently for people to book in advance and then cancel
at the last minute ( and we are told, there are those who just don't turn up ).
They can have a fully booked site one minute and then five vacant pitches the
next. It can be a real nuisance for them and they are very pleased that there
are people like us who just turn up on the off chance of a space. So, that is
why we have been so lucky to find vacant pitches so easily, so far. It's not
lucky, it's normal..................

ingram

PART 8

At the end of part 7 we were sitting up on the top, looking out over the
Ribblehead Viaduct deciding what to do next.
Our next Red Dot is the Constable Burton Hall Gardens at Leyburn. This is one
of Angela's choices, being keen on gardening and plants and we quite often
visit such places. That will do for tomorrow though; for now we decide to have a
drive about the local area.

We drive off under the viaduct, turn right, and we are on another 'B' road,
still in the Yorkshire Dales, and have a very pleasant drive down to Settle.
We need some shopping and find a privately owned 'Family' supermarket; 'Booths'
by name. Very nice shop and there is someone at the checkout to help pack the
bags. Wow! We *are* impressed. We haven't seen that since our visit to New
Zealand where almost *every* supermarket have packers.

An aside:- When I was about 13 ( in 1958 ) I had a Saturday job in a
supermarket. I was put on the checkout one day to pack, having been given no training.
I put a customer's half pound of butter in a small paper bag and: well, you
know how when you used to buy sweets and they were put in a paper bag, the
shopkeeper 'spun' the bag round to twist the corners closed?; well, I did that
with the butter. The half pound of butter burst through the bag's bottom and flew
across the shop at great speed. I was taken off packing...... end of aside.

Back to Ingleton now: having only stopped there to telephone, the day before,
we wanted to have a better look. Unable to find a parking space in town we
went to the outskirts and walked back in. Quite a long way, but good exercise
innit?

Another nice little town; very hilly and with a river. We found a bakers
shop and treated ourselves to custard slices, walked down to the river where
there were seats and tables and scoffed them. Opposite, on the far bank of the
river, were some modern houses: nice place to live except we could sit there and
see right into their gardens and rooms.

Just down the path a way we came across quite a surprise. A swimming pool.
Not a pond or lake but a proper brick and tile, built, open air pool with
lifeguards and changing rooms.
Quite something for such a small town.

Later that evening back at the campsite Angela made it quite clear that we
should have had a Red Dot for Scarborough. We'll have to fit that in then.

As it happens the next morning is a bit misereable weather wise, and on our
way to the Constable Burton Hall Gardens, it is raining.

We decide to give it a miss because of the weather, and go direct to
Scarborough. We don't quite do that because for some forgotten reason we leave the 'A'
road and divert to an unclassified road which is almost single track. We
persevere for some distance thinking that this was a mistake but then the road
widens out and we are in beautiful countryside and come upon a village with
shops and a pub and now the sun is shining. We decide to stick with the
Scarborough plan though and have an excellent, although somewhat exiting, drive to West
Ayton.

On the way, there is a sign on the A 170 saying that no caravans are allowed
and showing a diversion for them. This is because there is a steep hill ahead
and it says it is 25%. I haven't really become used to these percentage signs
for gradients and, being 'low tech' as you by now know well, I have to use my
brain only, free of any help from electronics, to calculate that this is 1 in
4.

By 'eck, crickey mummy; that's steep!

I foolishly tell Angela and she goes a shade of grey closely matching the
RM's upper body panels, but without the latter's silver gleam.

As we start to climb, it becomes apparent that this is going to be..........
*slow*............we are down to second gear and about seven miles an hour when we reach
the steep bit. It is a hairpin and a quick shift to first just before it,
saves us from embarassment. The van virtually stops in the middle of the downshift
but just creeps round the bend with only a momentary wheel spin from the
nearside, and we stay in first for at least another half mile before I dare
attempt a change.
I say 'saves *us* from embarrasment' but actually I think Angela has passed
out. She has always been fearful of rolling back on a hill
and.....well.....dying I suppose.

I am pleased to be able to report that this didn't happen and we arrived
safely in Ayton.

This is the Caravan Club site at west Ayton that I had read about some time
ago in one of the motorcaravan magazines. I couldn't remember exactly what I
had read but recalled that it was supposed to be a very popular and well liked
site; so would we get in there?

We decided that we would book in straight away for two nights if we could and
once again we met with sucess. This really is the bank holiday weekend now,
being Saturday, so we were quite surprised but once again, it was because of
cancellations.

We had a choice of several pitches but decided to forego a hardstanding to
park on grass.

This was a large grassed area occupied by about 6 or 7 'tuggers' and we took the last remaining hook-up. Was this wise?............

PART 9

We are at the C.C. site at West Ayton pitched on the grass with a
'shedful' of tuggers. It becomes apparent that these six or seven tuggers and
families are 'together' in some way; a club, friends, relations or whatever. We
have probably got the pitch that was reserved for someone who had to cancel.
They eat together, play together and drink together: their sleeping
arrangements remain unknown to us but between them they did seem to have a large number of children. In fact there seemed to be a considerable number of children on the Ayton site generally.

The sloping layout at Ayton allows for a tarmacked roadway around the site to
be used as a racetrack by children on bicycles, tricycles, skateboards,
rollerblades and scooters. This sounds like a *bad thing* but it wasn't really. It
could be quite entertaining. We always park the RM 'nose in' on our pitch.
This is because, not having a side door, we use the rear doors for entry / exit
and in the right places, the gateway to a view. At Ayton our view was the
roadway which came down a fairly steep hill and curved away near the van. I was
sitting there when a little girl, about four years old came hurtling down the
hill on her tricycle and, seemingly, having not yet perfected the art of three
wheel cornering, she came straight on, her front wheel hit the edge of the
grass, the handlebars turned through a sudden 90 degrees, the nearside wheel
lifted offroad and the girl was deposited flat on her face at my feet. " Hello" I
said, " are you having a nice time?"

A little boy named Luke was often seen. Sometimes with a friend, on his own,
or on one or two occasions with his rather weary, albeit, quite cheerful
grandparents who had apparently been lumbered..........er, blessed with Luke's
company for the weekend.

Actually he was a pleasant little lad but one of the worlds inquisitors.
What, why, which, when, who, seemed to be high on the list of his favourite words.
Whatever one was doing, or not doing, those are the words that flowed from
Luke's mouth. We saw quite a lot of Luke, as he had a scooter, and everytime he
passed by on the 'racetrack' he would stop and ask us something. Whatever he
asked, he was never satisfied with the answer until he had thoroughly used up
all of his interrogation skills. On one occasion we were at the water point
filling the van's water tank with a hose.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, hello Luke. We are filling up with water."
" Why?"
"Because we need the water for drinking and washing."
"Why?"
Etc. etc. ect............
After a while Luke went rather quiet and looking puzzled he said, " But won't
it be all *wet* inside now?"

Anyway, this is Scarborough and we are here to see nothing specific, but
Scarborough in general.

We have been here a few times before when the children were with us and we
used to rent holiday cottages / houses for a week at a time . It was always a
last minute thing, 'phoning around the week before we wanted to go to see what
was available.

One year we stayed in a small cottage attached to a gift shop, almost on the
beach at Scalby Mills.
The three kids who always moaned at us about not wanting to do what we wanted
to do; and why can't they do this or why can't they do that were given a free
reign one afternoon, with some money and told to go off for three hours and
do whatever they liked.

They returned after half an hour saying they were bored and didn't know what
to do and could they stay with us.................

Well, it's saturday afternoon and we have to do buy some food. We do have a streetplan map of Scarborough, but that is at home in a drawer. We head off
south of Scarborough to find a supermarket that we think we remember the
location of. We don't, but find some signs saying 'superstore' so follow those until
we find.....oh no!...it's a Morrisons! Do we want to eat or not? Yes, so we
go to Morrisons and jolly good it is too.

We are rather dissapointed with Scarborough. This is mostly not really
Scarborough's fault.

Firstly, the roadway around the castle 'lump' which goes to the open air
swimming pool with giant flumes that the kids used to love, has massive works in
progress. The sea wall is being rebuilt with massive rocks being imported from
Sweden or Iran or somewhere like that. The parking facilities on the roadside
have been closed off, the cafe is closed down: no-one can stop there now and
the whole area is a mess. The work needs to be done of course but this part of
Scarborough is temporarily ruined.

The open top buses which regularly run right along the seafront are held up
by the three sets of temporary traffic lights: it must be very, very, boring
driving back and forth along here all day. Appleby's used to run some buses and
they had an old Bristol Lodekka halfcab: I always tried to get a ride on
that.....it's not here now, I think Appleby's went out of business a few years
back.

We go to the carpark down at Scalby Mills where we rented that cottage and
notice that the gift shop is now a pub or bar of some sort.

Walking along the seafront past the beach huts and heading back towards the
swimming pool with flumes, we notice that the chairlift that takes people over
the hill to the amusement park looks a bit odd. We realise that it is no longer
in use, and rather derelict. Another dissapointment then.
We find out later that the amusement park has closed down as well, which
explains the forlorn redundancy of the chairlift.

We have an early evening stroll through Peasholm park which seems, about,
just as it used to be but we think it strange that the cafe and ice cream stall
is closed when it is mid summer and it is only 6.15 pm; perhaps everyone is
back at their hotel / guesthouse for dinner at this time of evening.

One thing about Scarborough we always rated, was the fish and chips. Daahn
saahf you just can't get decent f & s.

We decide to stop at the Ayton chippy on the way back to site and eat in the
van.

The fish is truly awful; a dried up nasty piece of cod just like at
home.............

Sunday, we decide to go to south cliff and walk through the maze of paths,
down through the shrubbery and formal gardens to have a look at the derelict sea
swimming pool that has been there since about 1900 if not before, but closed
in the 1970's I think, because of lack of use. It was always a sad, rather
eerie, but interesting place to visit.

We were unable to park at south cliff. There is plenty of parking on street
but it's all full, or the spaces are too small for the van. We keep going
south until we are out of the controlled zone and park in a residential street
just near where the hotel fell into the sea about ten years ago or so. This has
some relevance to the next bit.

Walking a few yards down the street to one of the footpath entrances, we find
it closed off with a notice explaining that due to some landslip some of the
pathways are closed for safety reasons and that although the council intend to
carry out repairs they have not yet been able to do so.

We do find a path entrance but discover that, while wending our way down the
maze of paths, many of them have been blocked causing us to have to keep
retracing our steps. We meet an elderly gentleman and his dog, picking blackberries and we join him for a while and have a chat. He tells us he used to swim in the derelict pool when he was young, though of course it wasn't derelict then.

We eventually find our way to the bottom only to find that the pool has been
filled in; just with earth, no landscaping or plants planted. All the stone
stairs which went up the slope at the cliff foot, with fancy balustrades have
gone: just a grassy slope remains. Whether the stairs were damaged in the land
slippage or they just removed it so that no maintenance and associated costs would be required I don't know, but the whole place has all it's interest removed. There used to be a stone building with a fancy tiled roof too, but no more. I have a 1905 postcard showing this view so I know I'm not dreaming it.

We have to go up Olivers Mount because of the superb view over Scarborough
town and promenade from up there, and there used to be a caravan /camp site up
the top which I want to have a look at. It's not in either of the club
listings.

First we stop off at the foot of the Mount to have a look at the Mere where
the children used to enjoy the rowing boats. There are no rowing boats
now...............

At the top of the Mount the view is as good as ever.
The caravan site seems not to be a permanent one: there is one of the CCC's
'Temporary Site's' there with a mass of appliance whites all in neat rows.

We are back at the CC Site at West Ayton nestled in next to the tuggers who
seem to be having a barbeque or a fire eating contest: we can't quite see from
where we are but there are huge flames.

All our stays on this trip have been on one or other of the club's sites, cl
or cs's.
We have not had any bad ones or anything to complain about but this one is
one of the best for no reason other than it just has a really nice ambience.

We settle down for a restful evening and plan tomorrow.
Our next Red Dot is O'Leary's motorcaravan supplies down at Hull, or Beverley
Actually. We have a number of things that we want to buy from them as well as
having a good old browse to see what they have.

The thing is, tomorrow is Bank Holiday Monday, so will O'Leary be open?

GO TO PART 10

ingram

PART 10

Before arriving at Scarborough, we did have another red dot to visit, the Harlow Carr RHS Gardens at Harrogate and we turned our map every whichway to try to get Harrogate to be on route from Blackpool, via Ingleton to Scarborough but failed, so that's another 'horticultural' visit for another time.

Before leaving Scarborough we have a last drive around and along the seafront. Navigating around here has been a little difficult, the old memory not being as reliable as hoped and the street plan of Scarborough being at home in a dra