This is a PS. Bob and I thought we’d look for the ancestral home. 😆

Yesterday afternoon we had a tiny crisis. We had all gone out separately, all insisting that the key was in the key box. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. Also, both the owner and the maintenance man (who had visited the day before to replace batteries in smoke alarms and sort out missing lights) were not in Whitby. Just before the owner arrived to let us in, someone who shall be nameless found the key in a pocket.

Today I have driven to the North Pennines via Middlesbrough. The route was mainly moor and flowering gorse but suddenly, as we crossed the Tees, there was an enormous industrial complex. This must have been what it was like during the Industrial Revolution – you come across something belching smoke and making horrendous amounts of noise when you and your horse had been wandering through a bucolic agricultural landscape.

The weather is glorious- sunshine, gentle breeze and dogs felled by heat. Unusual for the highest village in England (possibly) in May.