The day began with a wasp sting, as I tried to remove him with a Kleenex. The fella had stayed in our room all night. No redness or swelling. . .grace!
A couple at the guest house offered to take us and our luggage to the train station to pick up our car. A surprise!
Olivia and I prayed for wisdom, attentiveness and safety before starting the engine. I drove out of the lot and onto the York city streets at rush hour, and took to left had driving with all its turnabouts with aplomb. And oh, did I tell you that a garmin was waiting for us, an hour earlier than expected? Grace upon grace.
We took off as our GPS instructed us. The voice had a lilting British accent, gently instructing us as we went along. I was thinking of a name for her. Of course, it had to be literary. And it came to me. . . Mary Poppins. Perfect! "Take the second exit at the turnabout and. . .let's go fly a kite!" You get the picture. Olivia and I began to sing that song as we moved along.
I have been admiring these brilliant yellow fields along the way, which I am told, are Rapeseed, used in industry. Hard to believe such a sweet fragrance, almost like honey, could come from a flower used in that way.
Our itinerary is so full. I wanted to take the time to visit the coast, but was having a hard time fitting it in, since it was in the opposite direction to our Brontë tour. But, the thought came to me to head there today, and to focus on Whitby. It has a literature connection as well (naturally), as the Whitby Abbey inspired the novel, "Dracula". Not that I have read it, or endorse it, but, I am always fascinated with where writers get their ideas. See for yourself:
We had to pay for parking everywhere, but each time, we were able to see the sights in the allotted time. Here is the charming town of Whitby:
Then, we headed for our lodging near Ripon, but we both felt we needed a good cup of Yorkshire tea (strong, full bodied, but not bitter. . .such a pleasure to drink!) Well, we learned something these past few days. Afternoon tea begins and ends in the afternoon. Don't dare go into a tea shop after 4:30pm, or you will be sorely disappointed, or worse. . .turned away.
Two of the shops were closed by 4:30pm, one had just closed, and the fourth was just turning the 'open' sign around when I quickly walked in and asked (actually pleaded) for the owner to sell us a cuppa. I told her our sad story. Well, more grace. She agreed! And after we had paid, and I thanked her most profusely, she said with a smile, "Well, I've done my good deed for the day." And I'm grateful she did!
We made it to Ripon safely, and stopped for a bite to eat. Olivia noticed pigeon on the menu, and said she'd like to try it. I told her I was 'game', too. (I just hoped they weren't imported from Chicago.)
Ta da! It actually tasted almost like duck, but tougher, similar to the texture of beef. So, we ate the bird, and then noticed something hard in the flesh. When we asked what it was, the waitress said, nonchalantly, "Oh, that's shot. They can't use a large bullet, because it will tear the bird apart."
We arrived safely at this charming 1300’s (believe it) farmhouse called 'Mallard Grange'. I thought I was transported to France. So idyllic. . .even the smells were present. Wish we could stay for more than two nights!
Maggie, the owner, was explaining the marks on the sheep. She said they identify the mothers with their babies, and their date of birth, in case they are parted from one another. The herders search for them if lost at the end of a day. We caught a couple of lambs sneaking under the fence to cross the road, but skipped back to mother when we drove by!
Look at our adorable room. . .isn't it right out of 'Country Living Magazine?
So, I bid you all goodnight. We need to rest up for a full day tomorrow. Resting in God's grace and mercy.