Everything about our roadside hotel near Strathpeffer was fine except for that complete lack of personal service. The breakfast room had many people. Nobody talked, except amongst themselves. And soon we were on our way, cutting across the black isle and rounding Inverness, passing the hospital, which had been so good to my eye problem earlier in the holiday. We were now on the dash south, but we stopped near Perth to see Jan, an old college friend and that was lovely. But onwards we went in dismal weather. We must have crossed the forth bridge and then skirted Edinburgh before making our way to the A1. It rained. At some point we hoped to stop for a picnic, but the rain continued.
Eventually, we reached England but we found nowhere suitable to stop in Berwick on Tweed. We gobbled down a picnic somewhere on the Northumberland coast. We found a brief respite from the rain.
But as we continued south the rain was torrenting (spell checker suggests tormenting) down. We had reached a slightly despairing position and somewhere near scotch corner we called in at services to try to find out about something like travelodge for the night. There was one at Sedgefield that might have been OK. I think I rather deliberately missed the turn.
And life improved. The weather got better and I had a plan to see if we could pitch a tent at Bishop Monkton near Ripon in North Yorkshire.
We could. And so after a long drive – close on 400 miles we were able to enjoy a final night in a tent. It was lovely. After a long day, it was getting dark as we walked in this village, the home of Sue’s ancestors. Mind you, it was as long ago as 1679 that 7 greats grandfather Peter Burnett was born there.
This is what we saw in the failing light.
First of all, our tent and the spire of the church stands beyond. The church is nineteenth century although there’d have been a different one there back in Peter Burnett’s day.
Preparing a meal and looking happy.
The bedroom is ready too.
The campsite owner’s house.
A little stream runs along the wide village street with lots of bridges.
The Masons Arms is one of two pubs in Bishop Monkton.
A bridge over the stream.
Ah! The magic of the computer! It almost looks like daylight.
But that’s the magic of the camera with a night setting. Mind you though, you need a steady perch.
Bishop Monkton has a Post Office stores and a flower bedecked pillar-box.
That’s a normal photo and the strange item in front of the house is not very clear. So let’s find a good camera perch and do a night vision shot.
Yes, a wonderful piece of topiary!
The other pub – the Lamb and Flag.
The willow gently weeps into the stream.
The Mechanics Institution.
Another stream view.
A big boulder had a sign on it, which we couldn’t read in the dark. The camera flash picked it up.
And that was it for I was now not able to see what photos might be taken so it was back to the tent.
But the next day dawned – the 12th August with another long drive to make so we were up and away early.
We stopped for lunch at Ashby de la Zouch
And had a final tea break – very welcome – at Cirencester with Matthew.
So ends the summer holiday for 2010 but you can click here to return to the start.