February 22, 2009
Best laid plans
A couple days ago I got the bright idea to go to Whitby. As it is my favorite place near Middlesbrough and I haven’t been in 2009, I figured that it was about time for a visit. But, what should I do or see this time? Church! St. Mary’s is my favorite parish church so why not go to Whitby on Sunday and go to church at St. Mary’s? I spent Friday evening planning bus schedules and looking up service times and by this morning, I was ready to go. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day; by the time I caught the 8:45 am bus, the sun had burnt through the clouds, warming the earth, and creating a brilliant blue sky. I hopped on the bus to take me to Whitby. Through the countryside we went, past the little villages and fields of sheep heavily laden with their winter fleece. Up, up we went on the narrow winding country road to take us to the top of the moors. Then, slow, slow we crawled to the grassy shoulder. As cars whizzed by us, I assumed the driver was allowing the cars that had formed a train behind us to pass. Groan. Stop. Sputter, sputter, cough, cough, the old bus replied to each turn of the key. Stuck. In the middle of the Yorkshire Moors, the 93 bus to Scarborough calling at Whitby decided to stop and die. The driver tried to reach the depot on the radio; no answer. He tried his cell phone; no reception. He tried a passenger’s cell phone; lost reception. For over an hour we sat, 4 passengers and one driver. It is amazing how much influence the mind has when confronted with a situation such as being stranded. I suddenly found myself to be starving; would I starve to death before being rescued? I suddenly needed the toilet desperately; what patch of heather would afford the most privacy? Finally, the next bus to come along stopped and collected us. By this time, it was well past the church service start time. Arriving in Whitby, I wandered out to
the end of the pier-a place I had never been but is amazing as it juts out into the churning waves making one feel small and insignificant as they are surrounded by the North Sea. I wandered the shops; I can always find some quirky amusements to entertain myself. I stopped in for fish and chips with mushy peas at Hadley’s and then decided to climb the 199 steps to St. Mary’s. After services, the church is open for visitors so I wandered through the church appreciating the beautiful woodwork which resembles ship architecture; suitable for the area. With ominous thunder clouds beginning to roll across the moors, I quickly bought a lemon top (vanilla icecream with lemon icecream on top) and then boarded a bus suspiciously resembling the one from earlier, and headed back to Middlesbrough. This time I made it back without incident. Maybe I’ll try again next week….
Best laid plans
A couple days ago I got the bright idea to go to Whitby. As it is my favorite place near Middlesbrough and I haven’t been in 2009, I figured that it was about time for a visit. But, what should I do or see this time? Church! St. Mary’s is my favorite parish church so why not go to Whitby on Sunday and go to church at St. Mary’s? I spent Friday evening planning bus schedules and looking up service times and by this morning, I was ready to go. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day; by the time I caught the 8:45 am bus, the sun had burnt through the clouds, warming the earth, and creating a brilliant blue sky. I hopped on the bus to take me to Whitby. Through the countryside we went, past the little villages and fields of sheep heavily laden with their winter fleece. Up, up we went on the narrow winding country road to take us to the top of the moors. Then, slow, slow we crawled to the grassy shoulder. As cars whizzed by us, I assumed the driver was allowing the cars that had formed a train behind us to pass. Groan. Stop. Sputter, sputter, cough, cough, the old bus replied to each turn of the key. Stuck. In the middle of the Yorkshire Moors, the 93 bus to Scarborough calling at Whitby decided to stop and die. The driver tried to reach the depot on the radio; no answer. He tried his cell phone; no reception. He tried a passenger’s cell phone; lost reception. For over an hour we sat, 4 passengers and one driver. It is amazing how much influence the mind has when confronted with a situation such as being stranded. I suddenly found myself to be starving; would I starve to death before being rescued? I suddenly needed the toilet desperately; what patch of heather would afford the most privacy? Finally, the next bus to come along stopped and collected us. By this time, it was well past the church service start time. Arriving in Whitby, I wandered out to
the end of the pier-a place I had never been but is amazing as it juts out into the churning waves making one feel small and insignificant as they are surrounded by the North Sea. I wandered the shops; I can always find some quirky amusements to entertain myself. I stopped in for fish and chips with mushy peas at Hadley’s and then decided to climb the 199 steps to St. Mary’s. After services, the church is open for visitors so I wandered through the church appreciating the beautiful woodwork which resembles ship architecture; suitable for the area. With ominous thunder clouds beginning to roll across the moors, I quickly bought a lemon top (vanilla icecream with lemon icecream on top) and then boarded a bus suspiciously resembling the one from earlier, and headed back to Middlesbrough. This time I made it back without incident. Maybe I’ll try again next week….
1 comment:
Nancy
Do you like the "mushy peas"? An ex-coworker went to England a few years ago and he remembered the "mushy peas" and said that they were not very good.
Uncle dan
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