Exceedingly good

So anyway, I have returned to Yorkshire. On Wednesday, les parents and myself were all at a loose end. The weather was pleasant, so Mum suggested going out for a drive - she's very good like that. I suggested Kipling Cotes, on the old railway between York and Beverley, as it was somewhere I had never been before. I didn't have any OS maps with me, but saved a screenshot on my phone from the excellent Disused Stations website, with a small map so I could work out directions from an atlas in the car.

We arrived, after a very nice sunny journey, and it was all just about the same as when it closed back in 1965, the only thing lacking being the rails. The main building is a private house, the goods shed is a furniture shop - which also sells snacks and drinks - and even the signal box is still there, now housing a small artist's studio.

Just by the signal box is an information board, detailing the history of the line, with opening and closure dates, and general facts and figures about the area. The trackbed through the site is part of the Hudson Way.

Mum suggested I'd like to walk to the next station along. I guessed it was about two miles or thereabouts, so agreed, and they would drive there and pick me up. But first, a crap blurry selfie was in order!

Kipling Cotes

It was a nice walk. The first section was along a broad embankment, with scenic views out into the southern Yorkshire Wolds. It being something finally resembling summer - it is June after all - the hedgerow flowers were all in full bloom, the birds were singing, crickets hopped around me... I was surprised there weren't more people making use of the path, I only passed a couple of elderly cyclists, but it was good - I could enjoy the roses and orchids as if they were all just there for myself.

After half an hour or so, my phone rang. It was JP - he and Mum were lost. Obviously abandoned railway stations are not in the SatNav, and they wondered where I was. Unsure. He asked if I could see any landmarks. By now I was in a cutting, so my honest answer was "nettles", and "Oh, there's a bridge in the distance." Not much help.

A little later - clearly my estimate of two miles was a bit short of the mark - another phone call... 

"What can you see?"

"More nettles"

"We've found a pub."

I carried on under two more bridges. I could see a church, and a lady with a dog walked past. I'd been walking well over an hour by now, but to be honest I wasn't particularly bothered. I was having a great time, and if they'd found somewhere that Mum could buy wine I knew they'd be ok.

Eventually I reached Cherry Burton's former station. It too is now a private house. The platforms have been fenced off to create a sort of sun terrace for the owners, and featured a pair of irritating small yappy dogs - terriers of some kind maybe? I don't know. I prefer cats.

Cherry Burton. What the fuck is my hair doing?

Former station entrance

I managed to navigate my way out of the station area. The footpath leads from the back of the platforms, as the former forecourt is now a private road, with no public access, and headed towards the village - very nasty bit of main road to walk along, with no pavemen - and found Mum and JP safely ensconced in The Bay Horse. 

We drove back to their house via a sandwich at Burton Agnes Hall, then called at B&Q in Brid for some paint (Wednesday is pensioners' special day). I spent the evening painting their shed in a very fetching light blue and ivory. Very seasidey. Coincidentally British Rail North Eastern Region's colours. No connection at all. Obviously...