As demonstrated by the title of this post, I fell into Bill's habit of planning travel through song lyrics. I just couldn't think of another place nearby that I hadn't been yet, that also had a camp site. So we headed to Scarborough, about 90 miles down the east coast of England from us, in Yorkshire.
The Yorkshire moor is a different sort of place with endless undulations but no notable landmarks: easy to get lost in. The only features are heather, sheep, hedgerows or stone walls and the occasional stone farmhouse.
You already know that I spent some time knitting and sewing when we were there, but we also went to the pub one afternoon.
It was a lovely place that says it dates back to the 1400's. I was captivated by the view of sunshine and daffodils out the window. Why was I not sitting out in that sun, you ask? Because it was cold and windy out there.
That's an important thing to remember about England - its looks are misleading.
We were on the outskirts of a picture perfect village, West Ayton, but it seems hard to find photos that seem appropriate to share. Except this one which neatly sums up the place.