Ripon to Chester

 Tuesday 8th September, 1981                rainy and overcast

We had breakfast and out in the rain for a walk.  We drove into Ripon to see the village by daylight.  We decided we would like to live in Ripon.  Bought lovely hot wholemeal rolls and a cake from an old fashioned bakery.  Then took to the highway again for a few miles out of Ripon to Fountain’s Abbey - the ruins of a Cistercian order built in the 1132 AD.  Set in 600 acres of the most beautiful gardens and lakes we have seen in England - 13 Benedictine monks came here from York in dissatisfaction with the laxity there and the first year sheltered under the Elm tree - in time it became a huge sheep farm.  In 1768 it was united with Studley Royal and is in the hands of the Department of the Environment.  Acres of beautifully kept lawns with arbours of trees sheltering wildlife - we saw herds of wild deer roaming freely, pheasants and other birds pecked in the bush near the paths quite oblivious to us intruders - with regret we left.

A quick stop in Harrogate where a national carpet fair was being held, so consequently the old problem - no parking - we found one within walking distance.  Had lunch in van.  This brings a few raised eyebrows mostly smiles to see these invaders sitting around eating a meal - some even stand on tiptoe to see what is on the table (usually naught we are too hungry).

On through Skipton, a town we had passed close by on our way up north - "Cock a bottle Inn" tickled my fancy.  We stopped at Clitheroe after battling the traffic on the M5 for a car park.  We don't use the main roads if possible - too much traffic.  Found the dear little coffee shop "Peg's Place" in a tea house in the front rooms of a little Tudor house - home-made scones and cakes.  Clitheroe is the scene of the Lancaster trials where 20 were burnt at the stake for witchcraft.

Sean has decided to keep a diary on each town - giving it a code O.G. U.S. O is okay, G. equals good, U equals unreal, S. equals stuffed.  He has gone all around the UK in his pink board shorts, T-shirt and pink socks.  Why pink?  Somewhere in some town our washing came out pink!  Continued on till we found a camping area in Blackpool on the Irish Sea.  The kids are dying to take some rides on the much publicised pier.  We had tea, showered, and caught a bus into Blackpool Centre.

Blackpool, UK

Fares are twice as dear here as Edinburgh.  Nearly died at the end of the bus ride - we drove right into the huge depot.  Blackpool is a real union town - we asked the driver bus times - "he'll tell you” he pointed to the Times man.  The bus terminated on the beach promenade.  It was unreal - 6 1/2 miles of pleasure activity.  Blackpool is the only place that still has trams running, but now like the drivers were on strike, so we either had to hire a Landau or Shanks pony.  We decided on the latter as there was so much to see.  

Sean eyes just lit up with the palaces full of space invaders.  Rae at the ones full of machines to challenge anyone.  There are traders selling everything from fairy floss to meagre stuffed toys.  The pleasure Beach Park was right at the end of the promenade.  Our feet were dragging as we strolled along either side of the Irish Sea, when the lights began to come on, first the huge tower then the promenade.  It was unreal out of this world.  There were clowns, birds in cages, flower pots, clowns and just coloured lights.  Promenade illuminations bring people from everywhere to witness this magic.  We were still a long way from our destination, the Big Dipper.  So had lots to see and enjoy.  At last the park.  Well every ride possible and plenty of mechanical bingo.  John bought two sheets of tickets 12 rides for £7 this was about 29p or $.48 a ride - not bad!  

How they enjoyed themselves on the Big Dipper, haunted house, water flute and a more placid Alice in Wonderland for Sandra and I.  Time was running out so were energies.  At last we were ready for home.  John shouted us our first taxi ride, the type seen all over the UK with the little seats and friendly driver, as soon as we hopped in he started to check us on our cricket results.  John and he had an interesting conversation all the way home.  We thought the kids and John wouldn't settle after such an exhilarating p.m.  But we all flaked.

 Wednesday, 9th September, 1981              fine and sunny

John committed the unforgivable - left "Kane and Able" in the toilet.  Had to leave Marton Mere camping area without it.  Good-bye Blackpool and on to the M6 one of the few times we have used this mighty road.  It is so smooth I wrote my diary.  Also we had our morning tea as we chugged along as there aren't too many places to stop.  We did see a service area which stretches right across the road, service station, restaurant facilities; just before we turned off to Chester we saw an interchange highway way out in the country.

Found our camp in Chester, our first legal car park adjoining the race course with a port-a-loo shower and toilets.  

Chester, UK

It is only two minutes from the nearest pub and five into the centre, which is a mixed era. Georgian, Tudor, and Elizabethan shopfronts line cobbled streets with the main areas being the squares.  We went on a free walk with the Department of Information - it is a walled city on the Dee.  We had also crossed the mighty Mersey earlier along the M6 - built by the Romans.  Charles 1^st  is said to have stood on the wall and watched his army defeated by Cromwell.  Back home showered, ate and to bed.

Thursday 10th September                   fine and sunny

A couple of things I remembered about yesterday.  We went on the free walk which was very interesting - the guide was a farmer's wife who was very well spoken.  She showed us the restored Tudor buildings; the beautiful Georgian mansions all owned by the Earl of Westminster, Duke of Grosvenor - the third richest man in England. 

We were halfway round the wall when out of the quietness of the abbey square came this brawling couple.  The poor guide was embarrassed. 

After tea Sandra and John walked the wall again and Sean jogged.

Off on our first full tank, cheapest petrol we have seen. £1.65.  Canals line the highway.  Josiah Wedgwood was responsible for the canals from the Trent to the Dee to transport his pottery.  We had lunch at Stoke-on-Trent, then went out to Barlaston to the Wedgwood factory.  We saw demonstrations of the pottery being made - we also witnessed a film of Wedgwood from his beginnings.  We all bought presents and continued here to Uttoxeter, a small market town with a beautiful pub.

We are in a race course now - snow with the wind and rain outside.  The warden is a pig - they close down tomorrow and San says he’s cross because we are soiling his clean showers etc.  Met a nice couple at the laundromat.  Just married - the town was dead with half day closing but they were very busy.

Ripon to Chester

Melrose to Ripon

Saturday, 5th September ,1981                  light rain a.m.  sunny p.m.

Left our dear little camping area at Melrose with the funny custodians and headed for Hexham, through Jedburgh, Kelso, Coldstream, across the Tweed River into-Ye-old England leaving bonny Scotland behind.  

The rural area here, with its dales and hills, reminds me of home.  Lush pastures supply ample feed to fat sheep and cattle.  All this area is textile and wool.  We travelled on towards Holy Island on Lindisfarne where St Bede brought the Christian culture in the seventh century.  This golden age was brought to an end with the coming of the Vikings and the monks disbursed on to the mainland.  A Norman abbey still stands on the hill overlooking the sea and the village. 

Lindesfarne Castle with Sean and Rachelle in foreground

You can only drive to the island over a causeway at low tide.  It is a good bitumen road about 3 miles long across the Budai Cove.  We strolled through the village and had morning tea and continued on our way.  Passed Bamburgh Castle overlooking the sea.  "Sea Houses” a row of identical homes built on seafront.  

In Alnwick we were confronted with a problem - how to get through a 9 foot high gate when we were 9'3".  Here was Rae on roof with our tape measure and John and Sean measuring height - illegally parked into the bargain.  We had to renege and go around.

On to Hexham - the campsite was the worst one we have found.  Went for a walk into town and then home for tea and shower.

As I was feeling a little nauseated they decided to stay home and listen to radio 2, a very good Rogers and hearts session.  Sandra, John, Sean, and Rae returned to town to the pub and a fair.  Rae met girl guides and exchanged badges.

When driving out of Holy Island we saw hundreds of pilgrims, some walking through mud, some on the road and some in buses.

 Sunday 6th September                        raining

Left early - the camping area was substandard.  It had permanent caravans as its main income. As we entered the park John had this big concentrated talk with an old man near the gate.  He listens and then said "young’un- I'm deaf, the warden is over there."  

We went to a lovely church in Hexham - part of Mass said in Latin as the Assistant Priest was French.  Sang lovely old hymns, they didn't shake hands for peace be to you except a little Downs syndrome child next to me and her mother -  aliens like us I guess.

After mass we headed for Sean's highlight - Hadrian's Wall. But first we went to Vindalana - an ancient city unearthed some 10 years ago, all the evidence of a Roman fort and city behind the wall. It was misty wet rain so we all came back wet and miserable - my service shoes kept me dry.

Then on to “Twice Brewed” and “Once Brewed " tiny towns with information Centres.  Spoke to 10 young people walking to Scotland.  In this weather?

Now here we are at "Housesteads" 3 miles from steel point where we lunched.  The kids jumped out before lunch and took off along the wall. By the time I followed to take a photo they were little ants on a hilltop.  Sean and John wanted to walk to 6 km to Housestead Fort so Sandra took her first trip behind the wheel - so here we are waiting for Sean and John. 

Hadrians Wall

It is foggy and misty rain outside and they arrived wet and exhausted.  Couldn't see 2 feet ahead of them.

On our way to rest  - it is Father's Day and should be a day of rest for our driver, but he wanted to walk the wall with his son.  Settled here at "Castleside Camp” out of Consett and the sun is shining after a miserable morning.

Monday, 7th September,1981                fine but overcast

Breakfast - batten down - and off about 9:30 a.m. for Durham.  The English still tickle my fancy with their clarity of roadside notices.  Just outside the camp on the way to Consett was a notice "crawler Lane” - good as "short park", "long park". Consett seemed to be a dead town.  It was a steel industry town but they appeared to have closed down.  Garages were closed and homes were derelict.  We saw our first rag and bone man in his horse and cart with his ware packed in the back.  We arrived in Durham about 10 a.m., parked and went for a walk.

A lovely university city, the main streets in the centre of town all go around in mediaeval style and leading to the beautiful St Cuthbert Cathedral.  We spent some time there.  The Venerable Bede is buried there.  The cathedral was begun in about 1081 and completed in four stages in 1490.

The North door with the Sanctuary knocker was put there in the 12th century to give sanctuary to any criminal who sought it.  He was granted the protection of the church and given a choice between the trial and a voluntary exile.  John and Sean like this church.  

We drove a small way out of town after refilling the larder and parked on a lay-by for lunch.  These old men were sitting on a seat in the sun watching traffic pass we got such a big wave.  The old people spend a lot of time sitting in seats in towns and villages watching time go by.  We had quite a victory this a.m. John came in for a coffee in a coffee shop.  He reckons we have visited every coffee shop in the UK and every toilet after it.

Stopped at Middleham Castle - known for the birthplace of Richard III’s son - he also died there age 7 or 11.  

Above: Middleham Castle

 

Middleham Town

The town is a dear little village with all the shops coming off the marketplace. People laze about all friendly.  We drove into Ripon for the night - a nice town once again.  The Mediaeval Market Square, the nucleus of the village. 

We had tea out for the third time at a 16th century pub.  The "Staveley Arms" takes its name from the family of Miles Staveley who was appointed “Keeper to the Kings Gate” by Cardinal Wolsey.

At 9 p.m. we went into town to hear the town watchman blow his 1860 horn.  It has been a ritual for nigh on 1095 years, to let the people know all was well and to guide any stragglers in.  He stands on all four corners of the square under the obelisk and blows when the clock strikes 9 p.m. and then again outside the man's house before midnight.

John stayed in town for another drink and Sandra drove home.  It was dark and - going over speed bumps the car broke down.  It started to rain.  We were only 100 yards from home. Our little mechanic got us mobile again.

It was in Ripon a silly woman put her hands over her little poodle's ears so he couldn't hear the horn - "it was too loud" she said.

Melrose to Ripon