July and August

 July started with with continuing warm weather. I often found it too hot to be out and about doing much, but spent time inside keeping cool. 

The month started though with a visit to Hopton Hall to see their beautiful Rose Garden. I was determined to not miss this array of wondrous flowers sitting on an elevated site near Carsington Water in Derbyshire.

Then a trip out to Calke with its mix of formal lavender, closely guarded vegetable patches, and  natural lawns.  

Time then for another short break - this time trip to North-east Yorkshire, visiting Brodsworth Hall on the way and the coast at Whitby, Robin Hood's Bay, and Sandsend - all places which were new to me

Then it was home for my elder daughter's birthday and celebratory pizza (this is me btw, not her)

At the allotment blackberries started to ripen, broad beans and courgettes to fruit, but it hasn't been a very productive summer.

If we didn't do much in July, in August we seem to have done even less! 

A month of doing very little. Once schools had broken up for summer, the weather took it's traditional nose-dive - good for the gardens, fields and reservoirs but not for going out. We went to Kedleston Hall our closest National Trust property twice - first with grandson for Summer of Play, and back to hear a talk by Sam Dalrymple on the five partitions which shaped post-colonial India 

At home, I picked the first blueberries and windfall apples, and tried to get back into my rhythm of pickling and preserving. I made a couple of batches of lazy cider (it's supposed to turn to vinegar but I generally drink it before that stage), chopped mint leaves for sauce which will keep into winter, and at last cleared the ironing mountain and found the bottom of the laundry basket! Not grand achievements but they felt like positive moves.

Robin Hood's Bay - downhill then up

Whitby left me a little underwhelmed - too busy and commercial - but just a few miles south is the utterly charming village of Robin Hood's Bay, where houses tumble down the hillside to the sea, and there still seems an echo of smugglers moving their goods silently along the narrow alleys which pass between them.

One road leads down through the village but cars are only allowed down for access, so it's another place for walking.

 Downhill first this time, then the long slog back up.

I survived all this unusual exercise by stopping  for lunch on the way down at a lovely cafe called The Cove, situated on one of the side paths. At this point of the day it was warm and the interior coolness felt more appealing than the sunlit terrace with views over the sea.

Returning to the 'main' road we headed down to the sea.

When you've reached the bottom though you have to walk back up ... Thunder was rumbling around in the distance and rain starting to fall but not enough to have us dashing for the car (though with a hill to climb I've not sure I could have dashed) 

So we ambled back along the winding paths among the cottages

Stopping to look in shop windows or at the view out to sea. Fortunately I had my umbrella handy for when the rain DID start to fall, and we didn't get very wet.

And then the sun came out again.

Wandering side to side on the flatter streets, zigzagging up the hill instead of tackling it straight on, the walk back up didn't seem as difficult as I expected it to be.

It's a place I'd love to return to and explore further, perhaps even stay there and really get to know the back-ways away from the mass of visitors.

Whitby - and so many steps!

Our visit to Whitby started on the Park and Ride bus which took us down to the bus stop by the quayside. There was a market on and the area was busy and bustling, so we headed over the bridge to the old town, then up the steps to the Abbey.

There are allegedly 199 steps but apparently if you try to count them you'll never get the same amount twice. I didn't try as merely finding the energy to walk up them seemed like quite enough effort.

Taking my time gave up the chance to stop and look behind me at the view.

At the top, fortunately, there was lunch at outdoor tables at the youth hostel, with a fine view again over the town and a glimpse of a steam train heading out towards the moors

Up close, I found the Abbey ruins less impressive than I'd expected; just a shell of a building with a feeling that much has been allowed to grass over.

Back then, down a lane at the side of the Steps. I thought this would be easier but in places it was very precipitous.

And another stop for tea on reaching the bottom