Durham Castle and Cathedral

Durham castle and cathedral are perched high above a bend in the Wear river that turns this bluff into a peninsula. The castle and cathedral are both well fortified due to the Scots and Northumberland tribes who opposed the Norman conquest. 

The doorknocker had a great history in addition to being an awesome lion's head. 

The basement held an exhibit entitled The Treasures of St. Cuthbert. The cathedral was built to enshrine St. Cuthbert, and his coffin, cross and tomb are inside. A series of invasions by Danes lead monks to flee across Northern England with St. Cuthbert's body several times, and eventually it ended up in this highly defensible location. The collection had numerous other artifacts of interest, from illuminated books to signet rings. 

Durham castle was once part of the church as well, serving as the Bishop's residence. It was later converted into Durham's college. The castle keep is actually a dormitory. I can't tell you how jealous I am, though I am glad to have gone without tourists gawking down the hallways. On the tour of the castle I learned of its many alterations by the bishops who ruled here. Highlights of the tour were the original Norman chapel in the basement and a somewhat tilted massive wooden Black Staircase that was originally only supported along the wall, though it is now reinforced by pillars.

Whitby

Whitby is the setting for much of the novel Dracula, so it was fitting that the day was suitably overcast and dreary. I made my way toward Whitby Abbey, enjoying the view of the ruin atop its headland from across the bay. The whalebone arch frame for the picturesque ruin is a testament to the town's past as a whaling port.

Whitby was once home to Captain cook, and a monument dedicated to him stands beside the whale bone arch. The statue often is bedecked in a (live) seagull hat. 

I witnessed people surfing in the frigid February waters, proof that I'm not the only crazy one out there.

The streets below the abbey are filled with shops selling gothic clothing due to Bram Stoker's influence, and the fare ranges from painfully touristy and/or angst-ridden to rather artful. 199 steps up stands St. Mary's church and its hauntingly and beautifully weathered tombstones. 

(obligatory Eurasian Hobo cemetery shot)

The headstones have longs since been rendered unreadable by years of corrosion by the wet salty wind, and now look as though they have wasted away as much as those below them.

Between the lilting tombstones and the crumbling pile it is no wonder Stoker chose his English holiday destination as the point at which Dracula's ship crashes and bewilders the locals with its lack of crew and the mysterious captain's log. 

After wandering in the graveyard and peering over the wall at the closed abbey, I met up with my couchsurf host, who took me on a great walking tour of the town and the surrounding headlands. We stayed up late discussing life, philosophy, travel, etc, and watching Circ de Soleil's Alegria, which blew me away. I need to see them live. 

In the morning I headed out, but on my way to the bus station noticed that Whitby was once home to the man who invented the crow's nest. I had assumed that it was an invention old enough that we didn't know its inventor, or that no single person was credited with it. Silly me.

Scarborough

For years I had no idea that Scarborough was a real place. I thought it was just imagined for Scarborough Fair. Not only is it real, it has a castle, and thus I stopped by, even though I knew it would be closed. Scarborough is primarily a beach town, so unlike most castles, this one was open on the weekends and closed during the week. The ruin sits atop a quite defensible rock outcropping on a peninsula.

On the walk through the homes up to the castle, I passes the burial place of Anne Brontë in St. Mary's Church, which was built in 1180 CE. I have never read any of Anne Brontë's work, so I didn't feel the disdain that I would have passing by a place significant to her sisters. In high school a friend and I speculated that perhaps Anne, the least read of the three sisters, was actually a good writer, and that by some terrible mistake people ended up reading the detritus like Jane Eyre and (shudder) Wuthering Heights. But I digress. 

The castle was entered by a single narrow stone bridge.

Even though I wasn't able to see the Roman signal tower and look over the steep cliffs down upon the sea, I had a good view in the other direction of the beach town and its promenade. 

Simon and Garfunkel's version of the folk song Scarborough Fair was thoroughly stuck in my head on the whole bus ride to Whitby. 

Beverley Minster and Friary

Though it was fully dark when I arrived in Beverly, it was not really that late, so I was sad to find the hostel closed. My persistence yielded an answer, but I found that the building was under renovation and so not open. This was a shame, since it was probably one of the most historical hostels out there, being a converted friary. I had a nice view of the Minster lit at night as I searched for a bed and breakfast. 

The Minster was just as impressive by the light of day. 

The Minster is famed for its carvings, many of which provide some of the best information we have about early musical instruments. 

Other carvings were strange and amusing; these grotesques lived up to their name. 

The modern sculpture was also a bit eerie. I approve. 

By day the friary looked very medieval, and I could see that it had a lovely view of the Minster. 

Yorkshire Sculpture Park

Sculptor Henry Moore wanted his work to be displayed outdoors rather than in a museum, and he got his wish. I feel indifferent about the artist's work (though I really like the one that looks like finger bones), but they are definitely better in the landscape than they would be against a blank white wall. 

Also in the park was the work of another artist, James Turrell, who had converted a deer shelter. From inside the roof perfectly framed the sky. The despription sounded corny or cheap, but it truly looked amazing and surreal to capture the world at that angle.

Despite my fretting on the bus there, I was in fact able to see the park before dark, though I missed the indoor exhibits. The sunlight was almost gone when I flagged down a bus to backtrack to Leeds and head on to Beverly.