Number 1: Pickering

So, a slightly delayed start - mainly because I hadn't even set this up last Wednesday when I took the first pictures!

But yes, an actual, physically delayed start too, thanks to the tardiness of the 128 bus. Now, I've generally got nothing against people over a certain age, but put me in a queue at a bus stop and that all changes. I haven't actually killed anyone while waiting for public transport yet, but I'm sure that day will come. My whole demeanor changes and I get a murderous glint in my eye. Perhaps it's since they banned smoking in enclosed shelters? Who knows.

Anyway, the bus eventually turned up, without me earning a criminal record - it would have been terribly embarrassing to splatter blood all over my mother, who was accompanying me - and the journey into Ryedale was fairly uneventful, once I managed to stop staring at the woman with terrible gums sitting at the front. 

Pickering station was open to wander around. There weren't any trains running, it being mid-week off-season, and sadly the cafe on Platform 1 was shut, so I couldn't have a pasty, but I was able to inspect the partially completed signalbox, originally from Marishes Road, but stored at Goathland for ages.

Not quite finished inside, but looking good...

Thankfully, the almost complete lack of other people meant I didn't feel a complete retard when taking the required photo of myself. I think I'll have to work on a standardised facial expression, preferably one that doesn't make me look quite so gormless/vacant/dead-behind the eyes...

Task completed, Mum and I decided to round off the trip with a celebratory glass of wine or three, and some tasty food in the Black Swan - I had the liver, it was amazing - then got soaked in a rain shower waiting for the bus back again. I don't think I like buses very much.