Ice Cold In Whitby and Other Gloriousness-ness

We in Britain have just about had enough of the nagging cold we've been enduring for nigh on 3 months now. I know it's called Winter and a daytime temperature ranging from 0-4°C is nothing to write home about, but we really aren't comfortable as a nation with consistent weather over a sustained period of time - like a week. Sunshine, rain, wind, snow, ice, fog they are all equal imposters on the British pysche if they hang round long enough.

Joy abounded in the nation's hearts as we woke up this Sunday morning to a beautiful bright blue sky, early March sunshine with enough power to actually make it feel warm, even though a sharp frost greeted us to. Everybody I spoke to was alive with the possibilities of walks, lunches, outdoor games and trips out. Even the grumps who would spend such a day curtains drawn, curled up in bed watching telly or pulling up floorboards to throw on the fire recognised the gloriousness-ness of the day.

I then asked myself where would I most like to spend a day like today?. Well, one of the most beautiful, mesmerising and horrifying places I've ever had the pleasure to spend time in is Whitby, that chipped but still perfectly formed piece of coal perched on the North Yorkshire Coast.

I first came across Whitby whilst exploring the N. Yorks coastline in the hope of finding un-discovered surfbreaks, sleeping in the dead of winter 4 up in a Fiesta, breaking ice off our wetties and going for a Dawn Patrol at Sandsend, Staithes, Scarborough or Runswick. Whitby doesn't have it's own surfbreak, but it makes for a convenient break from the surf, which is how I discovered it. We'd often chug up the hill from Sandsend desparately trying to get some warmth into our near hypothermic bodies and stumble into town like a bunch of desparadoes from a Wild West film.

And Whitby has everything. From barnacled alleyways where you can still feel the breath of the Press Gangs on the back of your neck to a magnificently ruined 9th Century Abbey - a steep climb up 1,365 (this number is made-up) foot polished steps. Whitby is rammed full of ancient echoes, the Vikings had a few parties here, there's been hundreds of years of coal shipping and fishing marked by giant whale jawbones and the Captain Cook statue atop the north side of the Esk estuary. And more and more re-invention with a virtual Bram Stoker theme park weaved into the fabric of the place, plus a genuine working port that conjures up the possibilities of adventure beyond the horizon and foreign lands. And before you've finished it's also a 1950's English seaside resort with the accompanying fish, chips, arcades, candy floss, iffy characters and tat shops. A most perfect weekend away, any longer mind and you might end up stowing away on a steam packet back to you're own world.