the hols

Summer has finally arrived in Barcelona, so I feel the need to finish up the England pictures quickly and consign sweaters to the dust-bin of memory. Actually, they've all been sent back to Canada, so it's just as well it decided to get warm here.

Anyway, Whitby and surroundings, home of stunning sea vistas, giant Yorkshire puddings, Goth Weekend, and the peculiarly Yorkshire sense of humour.

It looks like this up close:


And like this from afar:




Giant Yorkshire pudding with gravy:


Enjoying Cornish Pasties with Mo and Sho in York




Goth Weekend! I don't think I'd ever been before. Basically Goths and Steampunks come from all over the country/world to get dressed up and parade through the picturesque streets.


The only people more in evidence than the goths are the photographers and their big lenses.




My dad celebrated his birthday in famous local restaurant The Magpie Café




Where I had the best Halibut of my life.


We went for a walk in the woods and found a ruined castle




And night fell, and then we went to Glasgow for two days but I didn't take many pictures because I was too busy visiting old friends and eating bacon sandwiches and dying my hair red. :P


Outfit post coming, long-suffering fashion readers!

moorland ramblings

Ok, after saying I was back, my computer died (temporarily, it seems to be doing ok at the moment) and now it's getting ridiculous how old and unseasonal some of these pictures are, but I'm going to post them anyway.

These are from walks in Yorkshire with my family. My sister Morna and I were gearing up to do an 8 day chunk of the Camino de Santiago in Northern Spain afterwards, so were trying to get our legs used to walking/break in our hiking boots in my case.

Every time I write about my dad's corner of the world I sound like a broken record but, in brief, the scenery is just my favourite ever, and I love rambling through the sparse but complex landscapes. My only complaint is the wind, which really takes a chunk out of you sometimes, but we lucked out weather-wise, not much rain and fairly pleasant temperatures. Actually, the last several times I've been to Yorkshire we've lucked out... I'm beginning to think all this complaining about the English weather is a conspiracy...

canary

These photos, the best of a bad bunch, just barely conceal the multitude of sins of my recent existence. Apart from the fact that I was cold (we've had good weather in the UK, but Yorkshire always does have that icy blast of wind) and tired from being out all day, I've been on a three week long bender with my family. Every time we get together, I eat too much, drink far too much, and don't sleep enough, and I've often noticed that I look about five years older by the end of a family vacation than I did before, with a pinched, dehydrated face. I think it just shows that we actually enjoy each other's company and just want to party all the time... but there is always that scary point when you find yourself seriously thinking that the last vegetable you ate may have been a week ago. If I were really a canary, rather than just canary-legged, I would have long since died down this mineshaft!

yorkshire lass

Hello from northernest North Yorkshire, on the internet connection from hell!
After my Grannie died 3 years ago, I didn't think I'd get to visit Whitby, Yorkshire, much more, but somehow my dad's hometown has remained a family hub of sorts in the UK, and this year all of us (my parents, two sisters and I) headed over for the first proper family vacation in a while.

I got my mom to bring me some summer clothes to tide over the next few months, and promptly had to try them all on again. Wearing this dress brought me lots of comments from my mom about it's summery-ness and supposedly inappropriate length... making me feel like a total teenager again. But really, I just can't wait to ditch the tights!



Photos by Shona

eternal winter

It feels weird posting these on a day when it was probably 23 degrees and glorious, but a couple of weeks ago, when I went to Bristol for an exceptionally difficult weekend, it was completely baltic. This March was the coldest on record or something in the UK, no? Luckily, this coat by Family Affairs, a Christmas present that had been lost in the post, (the designer had to send me another one, the Spanish post is absolutely awful and I'm convinced the first one got stolen by somebody in the handling chain), arrived two days before I went, and made the -2 degree weather slightly more bearable.

On a strange, mournful Sunday afternoon, Albert and I drove across the bridge from Bristol to Wales, to walk around a blustery castle, pose by a lovely 19th century iron bridge, and then warm up with cider at the local pub.

cheddar gorge

I love the British countryside. Not getting to it, which tends to involve lots of traffic and hair-pin bends and no sidewalks, but once you're there, I love rambling across rocky fields, past families out with their dog and having picnics, enjoying the very inhospitable-ness of the landscape and climate. The day we went to Cheddar Gorge in Somerset was beautiful though, sunny and crisp.

It was originally meant to be a hike with other people, but a few mucky fields convinced us we didn't have the right shoes and should go get the car, which was a good plan, because the others got stuck somewhere and never made it to the gorge.









Clambering over rocks and being buffeted by the wind, before heading down to the village for a cream tea!