Whitby

Went to see the sea today. He waved hello, so I waved back.

Fields of yellow flowers and mist hid the hills whilst riding through forests on a rickety old train. May shades of green blew in the crisp wind. Out the windows the sheep climb craggy cliff sides covered in moss. The dog across from me whines at his owner, a gruff Englishman, and the little girl beside him looks out the window in hope of seeing rabbits as we pass them by. She only does this momentarily as she pauses from the masterpiece she creates based on her journey. Her sisters chatter away with their grandfather, the dog’s owner, and they feed the dog their sweets which only makes him beg for more. Occasionally, you can see him try to sneak a sweetie from the little girl while she draws away on her pink paper. I had hoped my train journey would take me alongside the coast, but it has taken me through the beautiful Moorish countryside instead. I saw a small stag hop over the old wooden fence, and, in that moment, I wished that my life had this kind of quiet simplicity to it. My heart yearns for the wide open spaces that are tucked away from view aside from those who quickly pass it by without giving notice of its beauty. We stopped for maybe 15 minutes in Glaisdale, a little blip of a whisper in the forest that surrounds it, due to some sort of problem with the train. The sun broke through the clouds shortly after this, and it seemed as though the ferns stretched themselves out for its light and warmth. The trees lit up with vibrant life and the little girl’s grandmother’s coos of delight mirrored my own in my mind.

Stepping off the train, the first thing you notice is the smell of the air–the saltiness of the sea mingling with the malt vinegar from local fish and chip shops. I watched some parents and their children fish for crabs along the docks where sailboats and a ‘pirate’ entertained toddlers nearby. I took some shots with my camera before heading off to the beach.

The beach. Sand blasting my legs, and wind whipping my hair around before I managed to wrestle it into a braid. The sound of the ocean and the wind was almost deafening, yet it brought comfort and joy to my soul as I walked the length of the beach  in the moist sand. It was surprising to me how few people were along the water, and yet, even more surprising to see people among the rough waves trying to catch one to surf. I made a few futile attempts at taking a ‘selfie’ while people passed by allowing me to go semi-unnoticed.

Many people remained in the city or near the edges of the beach near the pier. From there, you could see carrier ships crossing the North Sea between England and Norway. I decided to stroll along the pier, and up the side of the hill where the monuments to Captain James Cook where located. (I took photos of these things with my film camera). Soon, however, my hunger overtook me and I gave in to the temptation of the fish and chips calling to me like a siren. Quayside is supposedly one of the best fish and chip shops in all of England, so I went for some take-away and ate in silence on the street side in the company of strangers who were also enjoying the warmth their food provided.

I decided to return to photo taking, and continued to take in my surroundings–the sights, the sounds, the smells. It was a wonderful assault of the senses, and the views of the ocean waves made me joyful even if the wind could chill you to the bone. I eventually made my way back to the train station for the long journey back to York. After sitting in silence while being harassed by some drunk men, I was more than happy to be on the train once more. Looking out the windows and watching the animals on the farms and in fields soak up the rays while they lasted was soothing. Two pheasants in a field danced in the last light of the sun before it disappeared over the horizon and left hues of blues and pinks in its wake. It was late when I finally returned to York and cycled home, but I enjoyed this short day trip. I think I rarely spoke, maybe even only once or twice, but I find myself to be pleasant company.