C&CC Site
April 2nd - 4th
A
short journey, again of around forty miles and again not much to
speak of. The
AA Routefinder instructions seemed to bear no relation to the real
world and I found the site in spite of them, coming at it from the
opposite direction. It's rather a sad site, rather scruffy. Huge open
spaces, dotted with six big ochre-painted buildings, a women's toilet
block, a recreation block, a men's toilet block, three more of them,
unidentified. The hard-standings are, in fact, grass with plastic
honeycomb mats, perfectly serviceable but scruffy. Few trees. The
whole place has the atmosphere of a second-rate holiday camp and the
depressing feel has been made worse by a blanket of sea-mist which
has hung overhead, almost touchable, since I arrived. The bus service
which used to stop outside the gate has been discontinued because a
subsidy has been withdrawn. I feel guilty about whingeing like this;
it's only £12 a night, I'm only here for three nights and I'm warm
and the staff are friendly and helpful.
At
midday as I drove along the MP3 was playing 'On the Road Again' by
Canned Heat. Honestly.
A
small gnome-like old man is next to me, complete with small,
un-gnome-like old wife. They have a tiny caravan and a huge car., the
first instance I have seen of a car bigger than the caravan it tows.
He stares, but then looks away when you try to say 'hello'. Further
on is a couple with a motor-home and a savage-looking hairy Alsatian,
which seems to sleep in its own tent. It went a bit postal when it
saw me returning from my shower and it was, for a minute, frightening
when I thought it was off its lead (streng
verboten on all club sites). It was, in fact, tied to a peg
and was quite harmless. I'm a bit fragile in the mornings.
I
watched the second part of 'Shetland' on Tuesday night. I like Ann
Cleeve's books (she also writes the police detective novels from
which ITV made the 'Vera' series with Brenda Blethyn. Douglas
Henshall, who plays the Shetlander police detective Jimmy Perez, a
descendant of a Spanish Armada survivor, is always good. My enjoyment
was spoiled, though, because I could understand barely a word.
Henshall had turned-up his accent to full-bore and his young lady
assistant Tosh (who I can't remember in the books) was
incomprehensible. It's good to be realistic, but not at the expense,
surely, of transparency. Perhaps when Scotland becomes independent we
will get sub-titles on TV programmes with Scottish actors.
On
Thursday I walked down to the 'Ivanhoe' pub to get the No. 3 'bus, '
Sea-Life Centre to Town Centre'. I had discovered that the site used
to be Scalby Manor Caravan site, so I guess the Club must have bought
it as a going concern. This is probably why it lacks the cosy warm
cuddly feeling you get with both Clubs' sites. I walked past Scalby
Manor, now a Hungry Hippo eatery or something (“Sorry, pub closed
until Fri”)(Fish and unlimited chips £6-50), down over Scalby Beck
where it falls over a pretty weir and up to the pub. No sign of a bus
stop or timetable. I asked a man walking a friendly yellow labrador,
but he was so unfriendly himself and wouldn't even stop to tell me he
knew 'bugger all about 't booses'. The Yorkshire accent often makes
men sound like surly thugs; or perhaps this particular ray of
sunshine was a surly thug. Mmmm. I carried on walking to town and
found a stop complete with friendly old lady who had a chat.
The
bus goes past the North Bay Amusement Park (rather fetching with a
miniature railway set in pine woods) and Peasholm Park, very
attractive. All quite Bournemouth and very encouraging. It also has
'Europe's Biggest Open-Air Theatre'. There were lots of seats
arranged in a sort of amphitheatre, but no apparent stage. In front
of the seats, where a stage normally belongs, was a lake. I was
rather puzzled. Do they board over the lake when there is a
performance, or do the actors perform from boats or pontoons floating
on the lake or do they declaim whilst swimming?
As
we entered the town I noticed that Scarborough is twinned with Cahir
in Tipperary in Ireland. I've never seen an English town twinned with
a Irish one. We passed a cinema so battered and ruined-looking that
it called to mind the hotel in Belfast (the Europa?) which was the
most bombed building in Northern Ireland (or was it the universe?).
Amazingly, it was alive and well and showing three of the latest
films.
I
saw a 'J' reg. (1991) Hymer camper van on a Talbot chassis, the
oldest Hymer I've even seen and a venerable old lady in very nice
condition. The A165 into town is lined with boarding houses,
five-storey terraces a bit like the old Edinburgh lands. The
population must double in the summer.
A
nice old gent on the bus directed me to the station; he was so
solicitous that at one point I thought he was going to come with me.
The station is a fine solid almost fascist piece of architecture (but
not in the same league as Milan station) with a handsome glass roof.
Nearly all the trains seemed to go to Liverpool Lime Street. Very
curious. Opposite it is the Stephen Joseph theatre, previously the
massive Art Deco Odeon cinema, where Alan Ayckbourn’s plays are
staged. He still lives in Scarborough, but I notice he was born in
London and went to prep school in Wisborough Green near Horsham.
In
the main street a shaven-headed brute in a 'Help the Heroes' hoodie
was talking to a mate in a loud Yorkshire-thug voice using, in the
main, one word - “fookin'”. I decided to tell him he was giving
the charity a bad name but then, for some reason, I decided not to.
Was he ex-Army? Had military training made a brute of him? The Army
was recruiting just up the street. Some squaddies who looked to me to
be twelve years old were strolling around in desert camouflage
fatigues. Had he entered service from school like one of them and
become the brute he is now? We'll never know.
Pondering these imponderables, I went on to Tesco's, a vast building which seems to be built on the edge of a cliff (Scarborough is very hilly). Among all the usual groceries I got a bulb of fennel which I'm going to braise to-night. I love fennel.
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| The Station |
The whole town was redolent of fried fish and chips. Very tempting and not surprising as I gave up counting fish and chip shops when I got into double figures. I think I will probably succumb tomorrow. I wonder what cod and chips is called here. In some places it's called 'fish and chips', in some 'cod and chips' (way too obvious) and in some 'a fish lot'. 'A fish parcel' sounds familiar too. Only one way to find out. Tomorrow is another day.
As
I write Judy Collins is singing Leonard Cohen's song 'Priests'. I
think this is his greatest song, but (and I may be wrong) he never
recorded it himself.
“And all of you have
seen the dance
That God has kept from
me”
I've
just remembered listening to a programme on Radio 4 the other day
about micro breweries (or 'craft breweries' as they seem to call
them now). I was only half-listening when a bloke mentioned Michael
Jackson and the role he had played in the resurgence of proper beer.
I had a surreal moment. Michael Jackson? Then I remembered another
Michael Jackson had been a major figure in CAMRA. Quite
disappointed.
My last day dawned –
yes, you guessed it – cold and misty. Undaunted, I cycled down to
the Sea-Life Centre and then from North Bay right down to the
harbour, about 8 miles there and back. No cycle paths anywhere, not a
single one . The only reference to cycling was a sign saying 'NO
CYCLING' at the start of the promenade. I saw only three other
cyclists the whole time I was out and one of those was an
Über-cyclist clad in
head-to-toe Lycra and doing about ninety mph. The harbour was nice,
with a mixture of leisure craft and fishing boats. The boats were
just coming in while I was watching at the end of the jetty at the
harbour mouth. From there you can look back across South Bay at the
beach and the seafront. The lighthouse at the harbour mouth is now
the Scarborough Yacht Club – 'Private, Members Only'. There is an
enormous hotel on the cliff looming
over the beach. Scarborough seems to go in for large buildings.
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| Harbour mouth |
over the beach. Scarborough seems to go in for large buildings.
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| When the boat comes in............ |
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