Whitby By The Sea

 Twenty-one years ago I sat on a grassy hillside in Whitby over looking the sea. Derek and Dorothy were there on that day, as well as Michael and my parents. My Dad was so happy to be there. He shared memories of his boyhood and coming to Whitby on a school trip (field trip). That day twenty-one years ago is a priceless memory for me. Whenever I remember my visits to Whitby... I will always think of my Dad.

We arrived in Whitby after our day in York. No B&B complications here. We stayed at Number 5 B&B (interesting name) where Derek and Dorothy have stayed before (and have been back since Caitlin and I were with them). Caitlin and I stayed on the top floor in the room where you can see the iron railing around the window. Derek and Dorothy were in the room directly underneath us (that is the room where Alan, Marivic, and AJ stayed 2 years ago). The breakfast room is the one at the very bottom; two floors below Derek and Dorothy.

I loved our room at Number 5 B&B. It was spacious, clean and homey; the bathroom was fully equipped and big enough to move around in; we each got our own bed, there was a fireplace, and packets of Cadbury hot chocolate and lovely biscuits. Most important of all (at least to Caitlin) was the free wi-fi. I admit... I liked the wi-fi too. Caitlin always shared her ipad with me so I could message Michael and post updates on facebook, which was a lot of fun.

The houses and shops in Whitby start at sea level and wind their way up the hill to the cliffs on top (depicted in the last photo). That evening we walked down hill through narrow, winding streets and past the shops (every thing closes early) towards the sea. Being April, the streets of this seaside community were not filled with many people. We found a nice restaurant to eat in and then walked to the pier. It was cold and windy. I was afraid we would be blown out to sea. Uncle Derek teased Caitlin with stories of Dracula (Whitby is connected to Dracula), especially when a strange looking character with a long black cloak kept appearing. Caitlin was sufficiently spooked.

The next morning we again walked the streets of Whitby, this time popping in and out of the shops. I loved the homemade sign on this store window indicating that they were closed on Sunday "Not Sunday The Lord's Day". I liked that.

I couldn't get enough of the streets and houses in all of the little English towns and communities we visited. When we'd seen all we could in Whitby we drove to the ruins of Whitby Abbey which are situated on the top of a cliff.

I was disappointed that even the ruins of an abbey cost money to get into. We decided not to go inside, which in the ruins of an abbey are actually... outside. The abbey is an impressive sight from any direction. The picture at the bottom I swiped from the internet. Isn't it beautiful? Anyone know what famous sea Captain learned seamanship in Whitby?

The Noble Duke of York

I love York! And now Caitlin loves York, and I'm happy that she does! It is always a must to visit York whilst in England. I was so pleased that as we drove into the car park (parking lot) that it was familiar to me. I knew that when we left the car park we would walk along a river and in which direction we would walk. Familiarity feels good.

We had come to Britain with winter clothes... at least I had. The weather in England was beautiful, often quite hot and I wished I had brought lighter clothing. The temperature in York that day was much cooler (actually cold) and the wind blew.

Our first stop was the open marketplace which was an immediate hit with Caitlin. Afterwards we went to my favorite eating place in York... Petersgate Fisheries. But it was no longer Petersgate it was now called Drakes. The fish 'n chips were still fabulous. Afterwards we headed to York Minster. Caitlin and I went into the Minster which is one of the largest cathedrals in Northern England. You used to be able to go in and make a donation if you chose, now, you are required to pay to enter. It is not cheap. Every hour on the hour a prayer is offered. We stopped as did everyone else and reverently listened to the prayer (I said "amen" but I'm not sure anyone else did... oh well, that's what I do). There is something stirring about being in a catheral in England and hearing the one offering the prayer asking God to bless the people of Boston. This was just two days after the tragedy at the Boston Marathon.

Christmas Angels is another favorite in York. I remember telling a dear friend years ago that she must go into Christmas Angels when she visited York. I remember her telling me when she came back from her trip, that while in the shop she thought, "Lesley was here." It's an interesting thought process to consider while thousands of miles from your home... this time I remembered, "Janet was here."

Doesn't this look just like a Dickens village? I love the shops, the cobblestone streets, the windows and doors, the signs, those three people in the picture.

My mother told me to have a cream donut while in England. Caitlin and I were standing on the street and turned around and there was a bakery right in front of us. There is no bakery like a British bakery and no cream like the fresh cream in Britain... at least none I have ever tried. I can now cross while-in-England-eat-a-cream-donut-for-your-mother off the bucket list.

When we returned to the car park after a wonderful afternoon in York, we found a duck sitting on it's nest. We watched it for several minutes. Derek and Dorothy are real animal lovers and enjoyed it. I actually didn't mind and took a few pictures. Caitlin I fear, may be more afraid of birds than me. Just look at the picture at the top of this post (birds in the background) and the look on her face. There are a lot, and I mean a LOT of birds at some of the touring sights in England.

Just for fun! 10 pts. if you can tell me who the Duke of York is (no googling).

Some Things Are Meant To Be

After our wonderful day in Liverpool we drove to Southport; a beautiful seaside resort town where the only part of the sea we saw... is what you see in the picture. Apparently we had to walk across that bridge quite a distance to get a view of the actual seaside.

Derek and Dorothy had made reservations for the four of us to stay at a Bed and Breakfast in Southport. I have stayed in B&B's in England before and looked forward to it with anticipation. They are usually old farmhouses or townhouses that have been converted into B&B's (someday I will write a post about the old farmhouse where I stayed in 1997). They are comfortable, homey, in-expensive, and every morning you are served a traditional English breakfast, which in my opinion is part of the whole experience.

When we arrived in Southport we turned onto a street lined with townhouses which had all been converted into B&B's. Uncle Derek easily found the address where we had reservations and he and I went to the door. We were quite surprised when the people who came to the door adamantly claimed that we had no reservation there, AND they had no available rooms. There was another B&B down the street with a similar name, certainly our reservation was there... or so they said. We were very confused, and I think we maybe should have felt a little insulted. We easily found the other house and went to the door. When no one answered  Dorothy and I peered into the front window. It was obvious that no one was home, and even if they were, by the looks of the house they were not expecting company. Dorothy, being a proper English woman, has a meticulously spotless house and was not willing to stay at this house, so... we headed down the street looking for "vacancy" signs.

We stopped at a house just a few doors from the previous and were delighted to find that there were vacancies. We were warmly welcomed by a woman named Chris who is probably a few years older than me. She was friendly, kind, and genuine, the kind of person who endeared herself to you immediately. Uncle Derek quickly engaged in conversation with Chris telling her of our frustration with our mixed-up-reservation situation. Chris listened intently and sympathetically. I went to the car to retrieve luggage and when I returned found Uncle Derek talking to Chris about the church. Chris had explained that she had seen a program on TV about "the Mormons" after finding out that Caitlin and I were visiting from Utah. She herself was a religious woman (not of the LDS faith) and found the LDS values to be very admirable. I will insert here that my Uncle Derek is the salt of the earth; a humble and faithful man. Derek talked openly about the church and our beliefs and Chris listened respectfully. Once we were upstairs in our room I quietly told Caitlin that I had a copy of The Book of Mormon with me. Her response was, "you have to give it to Chris!" I agreed.

That evening the four of us went to dinner and then walked around the town. Uncle Derek was certain that we were meant to stay at Chris's, that it wasn't just chance. It certainly did seem that way. As we walked and talked I was silently pondering how I was going to give Chris The Book of Mormon.

I think that someone who is a proprietor in a place like a B&B has to be a people person. When we arrived at breakfast the following morning Chris greeted each of us by name. As she served us our conversation with her was friendly. Soon it was time to gather our bags and prepare to leave. I knew the time was at hand and I knew I had to give her the book privately. 

When it was time to go I stayed in the background as Derek, Dorothy and Caitlin all hugged Chris and said goodbye. As they walked out the door and it was my turn, I handed her the blue paperback copy of The Book of Mormon giving her a brief explanation. "Oh Lesley, thank you!" was her gracious response as she kissed both of my cheeks and hugged me. By her expression of gratitude you would have thought that I had given her the best gift ever; which I did... she really just didn't know it.

As Caitlin and I walked down the street side by side I shared with her what had occurred. I told her how gracious Chris had been. I told her that Chris may choose to open the book and read it, or it could be placed on a shelf and maybe not opened for ten years. I explained that a seed had been planted, and I was grateful that I had brought The Book of Mormon with me and that I had been given the opportunity to share it.