Just A Quickie...

Chicken Katsu, followed by a delicious chicken teriyaki, with a couple of bottles of Asahi Black..

Mmmm...

That is all..

Dracula's Whitby Walk.

And so, to bring us right up to date with the walking, last week we went on the Dracula's Whitby walk.

This is another four mile walk, six kilometers or so.

Starting at Whitby Abbey, this took us along the coastal path to a camp site, then cross country, back into Whitby from the top.

Not a particularly difficult walk, but enough to work up an appetite for fish 'n' chips afterwards!

(Click 'em to see 'em.)

On our way to Whitby, we stopped off at the Hole Of Horcum, near Fylingdales. The story is, that a giant created the huge crater in the Moors, when he got so pissed off with his wife, grabbed a lump of land, and threw it at her!

He missed apparently, and created another Moors landmark, the name of which escapes me now.

On the coastal path from the Abbey.

It was quite a calm day at sea.

Bram Stoker wrote about Whitby;
"The houses of the old town are all red-roofed, and seem piled up one over the other anyhow,"

I used to love this bridge when I was a child. I remember the old dredger passing through it several times a day, cleaning the seabed.

View from the bridge.

View over the bay from St. Mary's Church graveyard.

St. Mary's Church clocktower.

Taken over the wall at dusk, the abbey is an iconic landmark for Goths.

Whitby at dusk.

I have to admit, I love Whitby. It just oozes gothic character, and it really isn't difficult to understand why Bram Stoker found so much inspiration in Whitby for his classic novel.

West Burton to Aysgarth Round.

The second walk we did was a little shorter than the first, only about four miles, or six kilometers.

First we drove to the village of West Burton, near Ripon, and parked up beside the village green.
It's one of those villages that makes you say things like,

"Ooh, wouldn't it be lovely to live here?" then start making silent plans in your head to move there one day, yet still know, deep down, that you never will!

There is a single pub, a village shop, a Post Office, and a family run Butcher's shop there, just like in the old days!

Wouldn't it be lovely to live there one day?

Anyway, we set off from West Burton, and walked over the fields towards Aysgarth. I was particularly looking forward to seeing Aysgarth Falls on this walk.

(Click 'em to see 'em bigger.)

The first ten minutes..

Okay, I got a bit lost here, the map didn't show all the bloody walls and fences that were in these fields. It was damned windy up on the tops too!

Eventually though, we got our first glimpse of Aysgarth Falls..

Not much I can say really.. The awesome power of nature?

Uh-huh..

I can't really take credit for this one, as I'm starring in it! Taken by my Girlfriend.

And here is what I was photographing in the photograph.

This was in an old farm building, not too sure just what it is, some kind of hay shredding contraption? Looks somewhat sinister though, so I thought it'd make a good photo.

I'd love to do this walk again in the summer, and get right down to the upper, mid, and lower falls, as we could only reach the mid to lower ones at this time of year.

I'll try not to get lost partway through next time too!

One of those moments..

A few weeks ago, we decided to start going for regular walks in the countryside. We live in York, which is pretty much surrounded by countryside, like the Yorkshire Dales, and North Yorkshire Moors.

I got a few books, you know the type, '50 Walks In North Yorkshire', and ' Historic Walks - North Yorkshire', and we are choosing a walk to do every weekend.

The first one we did was to drive out to Pickering, park up, then get on the steam train and go to Levisham, the first stop after Pickering, then walk back through the countryside to Pickering. It's about a six mile walk, or about 10km.

It was during this walk that we had one of those 'SHIT! I wish I had my camera ready!!' moments, when a Long-eared Owl swooped from the trees, flew DIRECTLY at us for a few moments, long enough for my eyes to focus fully on the detail of it's face, then flew off over the railway and into the distance.
Honestly, we were speechless for a minute, I think I managed to utter a few sounds of awe, but certainly no coherent words!

Maybe you wouldn't have been so awestruck, I'm a bit of a bird lover, a paying member of the RSPB, so it was a wonderful, and memorable experience for me.

I just wish I'd had my camera at the ready, but at least the owl gave me enough time to commit the sight to memory.

Anyhow, here are a few pictures of our first walk, we've done three so far, I'll be adding the others next.
(Click pics for a larger version.)

Levisham railway station, after a fifteen minute or so ride on the North Yorkshire Steam Railway from Pickering, our walk begins.

The first hill.

It's just down the road..

At the end of the road, through the gate..

Carry on..

Ah, the train is beating us back to Pickering..

Whuh-oh, road blocked..

After wading through a muddy bog to get around the road block, somewhere to wash our boots!

It wasn't far from here that we met the Long-eared Owl.

Now the train is lapping us!

Aha, somewhere else to wash the mud off our feet.. Maybe we should have waited a couple of weeks, for the ground to dry out a bit!

Just over this field! What do you mean you're scared of sheep?! What did you expect to find, walking through the Moors?!

Hmm.. Cutting it a bit fine for daylight, I think!

A sign of Spring, the snowdrops are out.

I really enjoyed this walk, and it was nice to have a ride on the steam train at the start, I hadn't been on one since I was a child.
We were going to have a look around Pickering castle too, but as you can see from the pictures, we mistimed it a bit for daylight!

Ah well, maybe next time.. In the Summer!

Ik Ben Droevig :- I Am Sorry.

I do hope that the translation in the title is accurate, I got it from yahoo/babelfish, so I am pretty confident it is correct.

People of the Netherlands, I am so very sorry for what my government has done to your representitive today.
Please believe that they have not done this on behalf of me, nor the majority of the British people, of whom I believe, oppose this outrageous denial of free speech.

Britain has historically led the fight for freedom of speech, costing millions of British lives, yet now we find ourselves becoming the very thing we have risen up and fought against so very often.

I shall go into my personal feelings about Fitna, Lord Ahmed, and the situation we find ourselves in on this day in my next post, but I felt that this deserved a platform, and post of it's own.
Such is my embarassment and shame in the refusal of Geert Wilders in our Country.

I am very, very sorry, and I shall do all I can, along with the LPUK to get rid of this cowardly, and self-serving joke of a government, and expose it for what it truly is.

Ik ben droevig.

Bemused Wolf.

Save The Words!

SAVE THE WORDS!

I have;

Sponser your own endangered word NOW!

Snowball Elfin Safety.

This response to THIS BBC article make me first chuckle, then suddenly realise that, one day, it could really be the case!

Firstly complete a risk assessment form (preferably in triplicate) and submit it to the Health and Safety department of your local council. Deal with their response (typically with questions such as - age of snow, whether it was fresh or had been previously used as a snow ball, size and capacity, age of persons at whom it will be thrown, whether the recipients had received parental permission to participate in a snowball fight, together with an indemnity form). After three months you will receive a certificate for permission to throw a snowball or balls strictly in accordance with the terms and conditions outlined on the form and as soon as the appropriate licence fee has been paid for and received. In order to ensure the certificate arrives in time it's best to submit it three months in advance and establish a hotline for permission to vary. Then you will be able to throw the snowball back. P Thomas, St Helens

Shh! Quiet please..

Can you guess where I was earlier today..? Here are a few hints;

A place filled with the loud clattering of heavy handed typing,

A place filled with the shrill sound of beeping barcode readers,

A place filled with the shrieking of undisciplined children, and clueless parents,

A place filled with staff, and patrons alike, speaking with each other in blatantly unhushed voices, about last night's soap operas.

A place infuriatingly topped off by the intrusive bleeps, buzzes, and melodies of mobile phones and gadgets,

Can you guess where I was today?

A busy office, or school, or shopping centre? No.

A noisy Starbucks, or McDonalds? No.

Honestly, you'll never guess.

I was in the library.

I haven't been in a library for some years now, and have never been in York library, until today.

Now, please correct me if I stand mistaken, but as I remember it, libraries are places where people go to read, and study. A place where, as a child, if I were so much as to cough loudly, I would have disapproving glares shot at me, and more than a few 'Shushes'.
What happened to our libraries? Is it perhaps just York library that is noisier, and more distracting, than any other library in the Country?

Well, I couldn't concentrate, so what did I do?

I spent the afternoon in a Costa coffee shop, enjoying peace,quiet, good coffee, and reading my nice book!

Animal Stories The Indians Told

So, on the subject of books, in particular old books, I am currently reading one that was published in 1927, by Alfred A Knopf of London.


Certainly, not one of my oldest books, but particularly interesting to me nonetheless.

Animal Stories The Indians Told.

As you may have guessed, it is a collection of stories told by the American Indians, gathered from many different tribes, such as the Navajo, the Cherokee, and the Pawnee, selected, and edited by Elizabeth Bishop Johnson.

Most interesting, for me at least, having studied the American Plains Indians at school, is the similarities between these stories they told, and their approach towards various aspects of their lives on the Great Plains. In the same way, I suppose, that our own lives, and morals are based on religion, ultimately at least.

For example, the story of Coyote and Prairie Chicken, written here, and in the book, as near to the way it was told by the Caddo Tribe, along the Red River;-

As Coyote was going along looking for something to eat, he met Prairie Chicken.
Now, Coyote liked to eat Prairie Chicken, but Prairie Chicken did not know that.
So when Coyote suggested that they play a game, and see which one could frighten the other first, Prairie Chicken agreed, and did not suspect that Coyote was trying to find a chance to kill and eat him.

They were playing in the tall grass, so Coyote just hid until Prairie Chicken came near him, when he jumped up quickly, thinking he would frighten him.
But Prairie Chicken flew over his head and laughed at Coyote.

When it was Prairie Chicken's turn, he slipped through the grass to a place that was near a steep bank, and waited there.
Coyote wandered up and down through the grass thinking every minute that Prairie Chicken would jump up, but he did not find him.
Finally, forgetting all about him, he had started on his way, when Prairie Chicken flew up in his face.
He gave a great leap, for he was frightened, and jumped over the steep bank into the canyon below.

A simple story, such as a story you would tell a child. But the similarities between the story, and, for example, the way that the Plains Indians initially waged war, is particularly apparant, preferring to strike suddenly, then quickly leaving, with their lives and bodies intact.

The White Men believed them to be cowardly, and weak, while they thought the White Men foolhardy, for considering death, and injury in battle, a form of bravery.

For the Plains Indian, better to patiently lie in wait, ready to strike your enemy when he has forgotton you are near.
A lesson learned from the story of Coyote and Prairie Chicken?

Old books...

I have an obsession with old books, you know.

That musty smell, and grubby exterior. The knowledge, that this book, in my hand, is many, many years old. Older than anyone on this Earth right now.
The wonder of the things that this book has seen, the things it has survived, the people who have touched it, and their own stories.
I adore them, and because of this, eBay is a dangerous place for me!

I often think, when I receive a new, old book, about where it has come from. Who was the first person to buy this book? Did they buy it for themselves, or was it to be a gift for someone special? What was happening in the world, the day they bought this book?

For example, I find myself imagining a very well dressed gentleman, elegantly smoking his pipe, in his study, reading aloud to the young lady he is courting, from the book, Poetic Sketches, by Alaric. A. Watts. This particular volume, published in 1828.

I think of thee, I think of thee,
And all that thou hast bourne for me;-
In hours of gloom, or heartless glee,
I think of thee, I think of thee.

he reads, as she listens to his words quietly, each verse read touching her very heart.

Imagine that though, this book, in my hands right now, is over one-hundred and eighty years old! The things it has existed through, and my word, how times have changed in it's long lifetime.

This book in my hand, this VERY book, appears to have been inscribed by Alaric Alexander Watts himself.
Written by hand, on the fourth page is;

[Unclear] Lawson
From her friend
The author

And, at the bottom of the title page, underneath the publishing date (MDCCCXXVIII), he adds;

First Published 10 years ago!

(nb: This is the Fourth edition of the book.)

And do you know what?
This piece of history, this little book, that has been around for over one-hundred and eighty years, cost me less than a fiver!

This is why I love old books. Not only for the story contained within their pages, but the story created around their pages too.