Sue and I enjoyed a glorious technicolour start to the year, popping corks on the beach at Robin Hood’s Bay (RHB) and admiring the fireworks emanating from several competing groups on the beach.
Last time we saw in the New Year here a storm drowned the fireworks, and the electricity. We have memories of using a fondue set to brew tea on New Year’s Day, as we sat in a cold Loft wrapped in duvets. This year the full moon shone brightly, the fireworks were excellent, and the power remained on, despite a snowstorm at breakfast time.
Sue and I were staying in the Station Waiting Rooms Loft, as guests of Jenny and Richard (aka Night Bird and Birthday Boy). It’s a great spot, at the top of the hill, with views across to Ravenscar.
There’s plenty of room for two, and visitors like us can be housed in a small cupboard that gets quite warm, especially when Richard turns on the heating all night, as he did on what remained of the night of 31 December.
There’s an increasingly monochromatic theme to a lot of the blog postings that I’ve been catching up on, and so it is here. The breakfast snow stuck to everything, and despite the day remaining largely overcast I took loads of photos, a selection of which can be viewed here.
Anyway, by 11 o’clock we were posing in the snow outside the Loft, and we soon set off along the old railway line to Boggle Hole and beyond. With a streaming cold, a well wrapped head, and a severe dose of lethargy, I was happy to trudge along at the rear whilst Richard took command of the route, a gentle 13 km ‘hike’. [Jenny may take offence if I were to describe it as an ‘amble’, ‘stroll’, ‘potter’, or similar!]
Everything seemed to be white with traces of grey and black.
Even the beach, though an orange ship on the horizon did provide a narrow slash of colour.
I wore one of my many pairs of leaky boots. They are excellent in the freezing conditions that seem now to have taken a grip on the UK. Apart from the Hi-Tecs, that fell apart in Silverdale.
Hunger was setting in. I had no food and fell behind. Eventually, perhaps around 2 pm, Richard deigned to call a halt, and the marchers congregated for ‘lunch’. Or was it afternoon tea? Anyway I was handed a large cheese sandwich and a sip of tea. And some shortbread that someone had concealed in my own bag.
I’m told that our 13 km route followed the blue line on the following chart, and that it included over 400 metres of ascent.
Happy New Year, everyone!