Windy on the Wold

After a hearty breakfast in Scarborough, and a quick slash in Morrisons', JP drove Mum and myself back down the coast and dumped us out at Speeton.

Surprisingly, despite it's bleak, windy and remote location, Speeton station only closed in 1970. Can't imagine it was ever very well used, 'cos it's not particularly near the village, and even if it was, there's only about 6 houses there anyway.

Speeton appears to have been Tango-ed.

The wind appeared to blowing straight from the Steppes of Russia, and the local architecture had a touch of beyond the Iron Curtain too - ruined sheds, a lot of post war-concrete, and curious metal masts of various shapes and sizes. Even the farms seemed to me like they could belong to some sort of People's Collective...

 Called into the garden centre at Reighton, as a quick diversion - pricing up olive trees, to replace my sadly-deceased geranium - then dropped down of the wolds into Hunmanby. The landscape became a lot less Soviet, and the buildings were a lot less forbidding, but still hardly any people around.

Windswept in Hunmanby

The main street had quite a lot of shops open, but very few customers - bought a tuna pizza from the Hunmanby Pantry and possibly doubled their day's takings! Ate while wandering behind the church, and just as I finished, disturbed somebody else having their lunch:

Do you want fries with that?