Return of the Native - Part 4

North Yorkshire Moors Railway

Now here's a special treat for anyone who, like me, got a Hornby Dublo train set from Santa when they were seven.  The North Yorkshire Moors Railway is one great big train set and I had the time of my life riding on it while the older boys played trains - great big trains.  It runs on about 30km of track between Pickering and the coastal town of Whitby, the birthplace of Captain Cook. 

The plan was to ride from Pickering to Grosmont then visit the iconic Sir Nigel Gresley in the engine sheds.  Our train was to be hauled by a diesel so I was delighted when steam issued back from an unseen engine.  When we arrived at Grosmont a stroll up the platform revealed that very same steam had come from the magnificent Sir Nigel himself who had actually hauled our train.  Oh bliss!  I was beside myself with joy, in fact I was so ecstatic that I somehow managed to invite myself into the cabin, the very heart of the locomotive who's replica was my first and most treasured OO gauge train which still sits proudly on the windowsill of our den. 

Next weekend is a big celebration of Sir Nigel Gresley who is being taken out of service for extensive maintenance.  He won't be back on the rails for quite some time so just how good was our timing!?

Raby Castle

I'm not sure how many castles so far, one loses count, but this one is near Darlington, not too far from Lin's house.  It is another grand estate and garden with a castle that once boasted high walls and a moat with a drawbridge.  It also has a number of towers, one of which was 'home' to the eight year-old daughter of a long ago lord who had her betrothed to another noble in order to forge and alliance of some sort.  The poor child was kept there, imprisoned until she reached a marriageable age of around 14.  It was child sexual assault and Rapunzel in one ugly package.

That aside, the history of the place is quite interesting, especially when told by our guide Robert who reminded my of Richard Briers from 'Monarch of the Glen'.  But the more I learn about castles and the titled individuals who owned and controlled them - and sometimes still do - the more my inner socialist rears his egalitarian head. 

As we toured the rooms and suites, Robert drew our attention to the different colours of the guest rooms, an apparent kindness to the staff who were illiterate but did know their colours and therefore knew where to go when summoned.  I'd have thought that teaching them to read would have been a far greater kindness but knowledge can lead to empowerment, and literacy is especially empowering.

Robert was a delightful chap but I was intrigued by his commitment to the status quo.

Things I've found particularly memorable or peculiar - in no particular order

The density yet, at the same time, space of the place.  We drive past small villages of terraced houses surrounded by fields then a couple of minutes later we pass another one.  Most were the homes of miners from another time when collieries peppered the hills.  All is now postcard green.

Once off the motorways the roads are narrow with little room to park so people park on the road itself which makes for interesting driving down the wrong side.  And speaking of the same, cars are parked every which way.  Parking in the direction of travel appears to be an odd antipodean notion.  For the first few days I kept thinking we were driving down one-way streets the wrong way.

There are excellent offerings in the supermarkets.  Most things are cheaper than in Australia, the exceptions being seafood, meat and wine although you can often pick up the latter up on special and I have done precisely that on numerous occasions.  It's Morrison's for most things; Tesco for good half case wine deals; and Marks & Spencer for smart packaged food and nibbly things.  Cashiers are seated which is extremely sensible.

Cafes and restaurants are a little more expensive than home but not nearly as outrageous as I had expected.  I'm sure that will change once we get to London.

The weather is exactly as I expected - it can turn on sixpence and frequently does.  We've had brilliant days; we've had wet days; we've had wild days; and we've had days that were in between and all of the above.  If we wanted sunny blue days we would have stayed at home.  It's all good.

The beaches in the North-East are sandy but you do get the occasional dead seal - much to the absolute delight of a certain wee white Westie named Piper.

Petrol is very expensive but most cars are quite economical and distances aren't great.

There are castles everywhere, particularly in the North where the Scots were frequently up for a bit of cross-border action and the Vikings got into it before them.

There are dogs everywhere.  Most are very well behaved as are their owners.

Every now and then you come upon collections of garden allotments like the one that Lin has a couple of km from home.  They are small plots of land where holders grow flowers, fruit and veg, raise chooks or generally pursue whatever agricultural activity takes their fancy.  There are about 40 allotment holders on Lin's setup which, like most, had its roots in the World Wars.  They are a wonderful idea in a place where yards are often small.  They also provide community focus.

More memorable or peculiar observations another time.