Monday - Whitby by car

We drove into Whitby so that we could stock up at Safeways (food for us and the little cat), and also so that I could buy some summer t-shirts having brought mainly Autumn walking clothes. Whiby also has some great shops for wandering around (and lots of step steps so we didn't feel too guilty about not having a long walk). We also paddled on the beach but had to leave before the crazy golf opened.

Tuesday - the walk from hell

It was around this point that Stephen met the owners of the cottage and found out that the 'stray' cat was actually owned by them and called Rosie and was in fact very well looked after - she just forgot that she had been fed. Previous tenants of the cottage had been buying her roast chickens so we had got off lightly with cat food, milk and tuna. Still, it was nice to know we wouldn't have to take her with us. So with lighter hearts we embarked on a walk that would take us through the Moors. It looked fairly straightforward on the map - but one thing we soon learnt was just because there is a footpath marked on the map it doesn't mean it will be marked on the actual landscape.

We made it to the next village without too much trouble and had lunch at a pub in Ainsthorpe (which gave Stephen the chance to examine the map and I could soak up the sun). After a pleasant lunch we set off cross country - and that's where our troubles started. Footpaths suddenly disappeared or didn't seem to go in the right direction. I was reminded of the bit in The Hobbit when they left the track to go into the wood and the paths kept moving (though as good luck would have it, we didn't meet any Trolls). We battled on as well we could through the bracken, and the heather, and the brambles and the nettles and the sheep. At one point there seemed no end in sight. For hours (which seemed like days) we roamed in search of civilisation. And then we saw it - a road. We fought our way towards it - but by the time we got there my legs - instead of looking the intended tanned and lovely - were covered in cuts and bruises. We then had to find a place in the fence where we could get through. By this time we were thirsty (and dirty and bloody) and managed to find a small garage - never has a luke warm can of coke tasted so good as when we sat on the verge of the main road to Teeside!

After our brief refreshment we set off back home. Stephen looked at the map and once more; it seemed like an easy amble. The first path seemed rather well worn so I had great expectations. After all - Stephen had a map and a compass in case of difficulties. The map soon became useless as we encountered the same disappearing footpath problem - the compass was quite good at keeping us going in the right direction. We negotiated boggy ground, more bracken, climbed through hedges and over fences and bridges, and walked through fields of sheep - loads of sheep- in our quest to find our little cottage. We decided that sheep are always chewing as they have to use nicotine gum because the Moors were so dry it would be a fire risk if they smoked (no it wasn't the sun or lack of water - we always make up lives for people we see - only we hadn't seen anyone but sheep for sometime). Stephen kept looking at the map - goodness knows why as I think we had both lost faith long ago. 9 Hours after leaving our little cottage we returned! I tried hard not to kiss the ground in relief. In the distance we could see the moors on fire around the Whitby area, and muttered a bit about how silly burning the heather at this time of year. We saw on the news in was in fact an accidental fire (probably one of the sheep had decided to have a crafty fag). We slept well that night.