Ancestral, I am still enjoying your report. I stumbled on Bolton as well while I was driving in Yorkshire. It was sort of magical--to use an overworked adjective.

What a wonderful time in the Dales. I have made notes for the day I get back!

Now not to be picky, but Eliza is lying in the graveyard and so is the stone. Lie is an intransitive verb so it takes no object. Lay is a transitive verb and needs an object. Sorry to be so schoolmarmish, but I was surprised to see this error in your tale as one of the things that has enchanted me is your superb use of the English language.

Oh Irishface I love your schoolmarmishness! How's that for "superb use of the English language"?

and no, I am by no means always correct. Those two words always confuse me. For some reason I always equate lie with a living thing and lay with an inanimate object "go lay the keys on the kitchen counter"- so I looked at the entire Eliza scenario as-- she-- "the living...er...um..once living thing" is lying there whereas her non living gravestone is laying there. My brain thinks of it as-- would I actually lie a gravestone on the grass? or would I lay it down on the grass? Eliza would lie down, but the stone would be laid down---or now I'm wondering if it would be lain? God now I'm totally confused--there's something about the past tense of lie that has a lay ish feel to it isn't there? The whole thing just makes me want to...go get laid! Just kidding.

Whatever the case---dearest dead Eliza is resting, flatly, underneath the Muker lawn, directly underneath her vertically challenged headstone.

Oh and remember--Joey's a writer--so I am quite used to grammatical suggestions. Hmmm...I wonder if he will need to be grammatically corrected when he posts his trip report? I'd pay good money for that--so schoolmarms--arm your swords!

Ancestral,thanks for taking the lie/lay thing in the spirit in which it was made. Last night I thought I probably should have just let it go, as I have let even more egregious errors go. After all, as many have said, this is just a place for those who want to share the joys of travel.

Enema bags made my day!!!!
Great reporting.

Irishface---I'm glad you pointed it out--never worry==I can usually tell when reactions are posted in the spirit of good humor. I'm usually pretty easy---but if someone tries to tell me HOW to travel then that's another matter!

Not excited about writing Day 19--this was the worst day of our trip...

DAY 19 ROBIN HOOD'S BAY

Awoke, packed, ate, and departed for Robin Hood's Bay(which I will simply call RHB).

On this drive I realized the sheer size of Yorkshire. This beautiful county seemed to stretch out forever. The drive was nice, although it had begun to rain.

In time, we had reached the point where RHB and Whitby were visible from the plateau. We really enjoyed the approach and descent into coastal Yorkshire. Red roofs only enhanced the picturesque nature of the wide vista that LAY before us(sorry, Irishface-lol). We were looking for hotel called The Victoria Hotel. Kind of tricky, because we had to pull the car into what seemed like a completely different lane to get to the hotel's car park. We made it, though, and checked in. This building is the last in a row of Victorians along the upper town(newer--though not new) of RHB, with a tremendous view over the the village and the sea.
The hotel had an open ceiling so that you can see all the way to the top floor from the large main hall. Nicer than we had expected. Our room was on the top floor facing the sea and the village down below. We seem to have lucked out with our Hotel rooms---so many of them had tremendous views.

Unpacked, and began our walk down the STEEP hill into the beautiful beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, awe inspiring, sublime, secretive, charming, quaint, village. Yes, the place was acceptable! You walk the steep main road(car free most of the time) and pass charming shops, little lanes off to the sides that take you to secret corners which then have their own even smaller lanes which lead you to even more secrets---Joey was in heaven! He loved this place like no other, and my pics of RHB are tremendous(not because of my photographic skills--but because you can't take a bad picture in this little paradise).

We stopped and had a late lunch and met a couple(he was English, she was Dutch) who enjoyed criticizing everything English(he did, she didn't). He was an incredibly cynical, critical, fault finding, yet amusing man who seemed to relish attacking his own people(not directly, just in his descriptions of the English whilst talking to Joey and me). Called them pompous, horrible tourists, self centered, delusional, superior minded, shallow, critical, and purposefully vague. The funny thing was that HE was the only Englishman we met on our journey who was all of these things! and we still enjoyed his company!

After a long long walk around every lane in the village we ascended back up the hill to our hotel to make some phone calls and to get ready to drive over to Whitby.

I texted my dog sitters again to ask how about Coda. Same responses "he's waiting for you", " the ac is on and he's nice and cool", "he hasn't made any messes". None of these responses "felt" right to me so I called my friend Debbie and asked her. Coda had died. He was 14 years old, a Shiba Inu, and I had taken him to the vet a week before our departure and she said there was nothing wrong with him. Apparently he just stopped walking and eating and had somehow damaged his back while I was away--and the sitters took him to my vet , and vet thought it best to put him to sleep. She said he had ruptured disks that were causing great pain and that this would not get better even with steroids and pain medication. I was devastated. Coda was my little baby, and I will never be able to get over the feeling that perhaps he was looking for me, or waiting at the window, and finally became depressed about my being gone. Do we really know how dogs minds work? Whatever the case, it was very depressing that I wasn't able to hold him, or comfort him at the end. He loved Debbie, though, and Ian--my student who was also keeping him company, so at least I can take comfort in knowing he was with people he loved.

The rest of the evening is a little blurry. We went to Whitby anyway, hoping to put our minds in another place. Saw the abbey, had the famous fish and chips, etc but honestly we just couldn't have fun.

Next: Staithes, Runswick Bay, Goathland

"who seemed to relish attacking his own people(not directly, just in his descriptions of the English whilst talking to Joey and me). Called them pompous, horrible tourists, self centered, delusional, superior minded, shallow, critical, and purposefully vague."

Are you sure he was English......Not Scottish

Yes, he made it very clear that he was English. He said he was from Bath originally and then had moved to somewhere in The Chilterns(I'm not familiar with the latter area).

By the way, I may have made a mistake in my description of our Slaughter to Slaughter walk early on in this trip report. It may have been Lower to Upper rather than the opposite. We started in the Slaughter that has the water mill---can't remember which one that was? Flanner? Janis?

So sorry for your loss. It sounds as though Coda had a lovely life with you and the pet sitters/vet did the right thing.

Losing a pet when I am away is my biggest fear whilst traveling. We had three senior dogs, now have only 2, with one of them disabled + a 21 year old cat. We are constantly texting the pet sitter. And I am constantly fretting about whether or not we should take the trip.

My heart goes out to you...

Day 20 RHB, STAITHES, RUNSWICK BAY, GOATHLAND

Our waitress at breakfast seemed rushed and not terribly friendly. The Victoria Hotel itself is not the the most engaging of places, really. Would I stay there again? Yes, as I believe it is situated in the best location and the rooms are quite nice. The staff, however, are mediocre. Not terrible by any means, but they certainly don't go out of their way to be helpful. I would not stay at one of the places down in the lower, older part of RHB because of the difficulty of dragging everything up and down that steep main rd. Gave Victoria 5 stars for location, rooms, cleanliness, on TA but 3 or 4 stars based on staff attitude. Again, not terrible---so don't misinterpret this description.

Joey wanted to stay in the room. We were both kind of down--but I preferred to occupy myself with something so I went back down into the RHB and felt like spending money. There is a terrific antique shop with many many wonderful things so I splurged.

Wondered around the village again, taking some moving pictures.

FInally I went back to the hotel and told Joey we had to get out and try to have some fun, so I dragged him into the car and we programmed Simon to take us to Goathland in the Moors. The drive was winding, curvy, fun, and completely off course. Simon took us to a field and told us to continue going straight. Straight?! The gravel road had ended! What the hell was wrong with him? Turning the car around took some effort as there were ditches on both sides of the alleged road(I really don't even think it was a true road). I managed it, and then we stopped and asked a woman how to get to Goathland and she told us the way.

We arrived and it was a ghost of a village. Not a soul in sight, and everything was closed. Still not sure why, but we walked around a bit, said hello to some sheep, looked at the charming old train station, and left.

I wanted to buy a painting of the coastal area if I could find one that had been painted by a local artist, so we headed for Staithes. This beautiful village reminded me of RHB but if I remember correctly, it was marred a bit by an unsightly factory or manufacturing plant on the hill above the town(this may have been one of the other coastal towns--just not sure).

Joey was in poor spirits, and I knew he was feeling forced into tagging along--and it was wrong of me to expect him to deal with sadness in the same way that I deal with it. Still, he kept up--complaining about the never ending descents into these coastal villages.

Now, here is where I get confused. For the life of me I cannot remember which town is which--but I did find an art gallery called Turville or something like that and I think it was in Runswick Bay--but maybe not. Damn, I'm really sorry but in thinking back I believe it was in yet another village and I can't remember the name. This is terrible, I realize, but you must understand that my mind was constantly racing back and forth about my dog and what he was thinking at the end, so things are blurry. We definitely stopped in Runswick Bay, and I remember liking it better than Staithes, but I'm pretty sure the gallery was in another town. A flatter town rather than one that clings to the hillside. We did not go to Scarborough.

Anyway, I bought a painting at that gallery, and it has a beautiful panoramic view looking down on RHB.

We were very tired by this point, and went back to RHB for dinner. I noticed a double rainbow over the sea and quickly began snapping some wonderful shots. It was evening, and the mid shot was of the rainbows, background was lavender sky, darker clouds further back, and sun in the foreground. What luck! This beautiful shot is posted on the picturesofengland.com website.

Went down into the village for dinner, the had our beers outside on the terrace behind the pub and spent the rest of the evening with a group of young English tourists.

A nice end to our last night in beautiful RHB.

Next: York

egnolive----you are very sweet. It's hard to leave them, but I've read that their concept of time is not the same as ours--hoping this is true---. My own cat died two years ago, in my arms, at the ripe old age of 20. This is what we all want to happen, but we both know that the end never comes when we're expecting it. You are so fortunate to have a 21 yr old cat, and elderly dogs who have been with you through thick and thin. I realize that Coda had a great life, and it was very kind of you to point that out. Thank you so much, egnolive.

Incidentals---we had tea at some point during our RHB stay at The Victoria. Disappointing. and the pub is a bit dull. I asked the waitress why she seemed so stressed and the question was met with a blank stare. Stay at the Victoria, but find a better tea room and definitely try the pubs in the lower part of the village.

AV - so sorry you had such a bad day. Everything seems to have conspired against you, as sometimes happens to us all, and then losing you dog as well.

looking forward to better times.

Oh that's so sad (I had to look up Shiba Inu - beautiful dogs).

"<i>Lower to Upper rather than the opposite. We started in the Slaughter that has the water mill---can't remember which one that was? Flanner? Janis?</i>"

I was going to comment about you moving the mill to Upper Slaughter when you first posted it. But w/ the Avon issue, enema bag discussions (giggle font off) and all, not that important to pile on. But yes-- Upper Slaughter is up on the hill and Lower Slaughter is down on the river w/ the Mill.

AV, re lie/lay, my school marm par excellence mother taught me that lay and set mean "to place," meaning you lay something down and it lies there, and you set something down and it sits there. Hope that helps. The kicker is that lay is also the past tense of lie. Ah, English!

I am enjoying your trip report very much.

Found my receipt for the art gallery. It's not Turville as I said before, but is called Turnstone Gallery and the town is called Sandsend. Ring any bells? Sweet little gallery and town, and I remember that they were having some sort of turtle race that day.

So now I can say that Staithes was cute---sort of like a RHB but more--lived in--if that makes sense.

RUnswick Bay was wonderful.

Sandsend was pretty but more spread out.

Still prefer RHB to all of them---but they're all special little coastal towns/villages.

Goathland was deserted. It was really strange---just a few sheep.

The Moors themselves were wonderful, though, and seemed to go on forever.

Whitby didn't slay us the way it does so many others. The abby was wonderfully creepy, housing many MANY gravestones in it's graveyard, and the views were beautiful, but we weren't in the right frame of mind that day so I do not blame Whitby. Still, glad we chose Robin Hood's Bay as our base.

One other thing is that when I asked Debbie what day Coda had died--it was the day we had arrived in Llandudno--much earlier in the trip. She said that my original text on that day, asking about him, was received minutes after the vet had put him to sleep. Maybe Joey's sudden feeling of sadness upon our arrival in Llandudno was some kind of gut feeling--who knows? and then to have seen Beddgelert at that particular time as well...

annhig---most of the day was actually pretty good. Little things like an average tea, unfriendly waitress, etc don't bother me at all. Life's too short for me to allow insignificant incidents to linger, so It was a pretty good day, just ruined because of the sad news from home.

Janisj---Shiba Inu are the perfect breed. They are quiet, loyal, fastidious, and you never have to bathe them. They clean themselves--like cats. On the rare occasion that they do bark---it's generally for a good reason. BTW--thanks for The Chilterns advice--I will consider the area next time I'm in the UK. Flanner doesn't seem particularly enamored with them, though.

Carolun---thanks for the tip! Makes it easy to remember.

sorry---I meant Carolyn!

Dammit! Just noticed that my days are wrong. Skipped from day 15 to day 18(did not skip any of the trip--just wrote the wrong numbers). Ok, the last one I posted which reads Day 20 should read Day 18, meaning that the next one--York--will read Day 19. Sorry.

Hi again, enjoying your report and glad I was able to help you out on the North Yorkshire part. I know how lucky I am to live there, and in July we moved house - to a cottage in Wensleydale. I still pinch myself every morning!
Your report reminded me of when we stayed for a week in Robin Hood's Bay and in my wisdom I decided we'd rent a cottage right down the old part of the village, literally yards from the sea. We were 'allowed' to take our car down that very steep hill to drop off luggage. Most definitely NOT for the faint hearted.
So glad you loved North Yorkshire!