Slugs, slugs, glorious slugs

A group activity today. Went to Whitby with Mum, JP and Gotho, to visit Squirrille, Fraser and Scaramanga. The original intention was to play crazy golf at the Arnold Palmer course (I doubt Arnold Palmer actually designed it - if indeed he is even a real person), but it was shut -presumably 'cos either A: the fog was amazing, or B: it is no longer the school holidays, so instead I managed to persuade the others to join me on a PlatformCat adventure northwards along the route of the Whitby, Redcar and Middlesbrough Union Railway, up the coast to Sandsend.

JP and Scaramanga set off in the car, while Mum, Fraser, Gotho and Scaramanga headed off along the road by foot. First port of call was the old Whitby West Cliff station - now a small residential area called Beeching Mews (!) - and I was assisted in photography by Fraser. Apparently the selfie I took was gash, so the snatched the camera from me and this was the result:

Whitby West Cliff - Hope none of the residents were looking out...

From there. the route took us past the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses (spit, spit!), the football ground, and this really weird garden. I think the owners must be on drugs.

After that, we passed along beside the golf course. Gothos and my's rendition of "The Red Car and The Blue Car Had a Race" from the old Milky Way advert was amazing as we traversed Newholm Beck, and then we were beside the sea. At this point I educated everyone with a thrilling lecture about the origins of the coast road. Originally, the main road north of Whitby was on the beach (tidal conditions permitting), but a Maharajah of somewhere, was (for some reason) living in Mulgrave Castle, and he had a proper road built, above the strand line, because his elephants didn't like walking on sand. True fact.

Sandsend

After catching up with JP and Scaramanga outside the Hart Inn, Sandsend's old station (closed since 1958) was soon reached. Only Gotho and I walked up the steps to it, having left Fraser at the pub, and mum at the public loos. There was only a small amount of possible trespassing involved - or at least, creeping through a hedge - and lots of slugs. Seriously, I think there must be a slug-plantation nearby. All over the place! Proper black ones too - not those nasty fever-slugs...

But yeah, we backtracked to to the pub via this goat,

I <3 goats

and I heard a well-earned pint of Black Sheep, beside a proper open fire. Brillo!