Yorkshire Day 5: Whitby

I actually got up early and put my face on today. I wanted to look presentable for my first visit to Whitby. We were up and out fairly early as our appointment at the Abbey was at 11 and we wanted to have plenty of time to park up and get up there. The half-hour drive was an easy one, and the views of the North Moors we drove through were very pretty and rugged.
We parked next to the harbour and near the train station. The sun was beaming off of the water and it was a pleasant, ambient temperature. We had to cross the old Whitby Bridge to get to the side of the bay that the Abbey stands on. The bridge is charming, but we were told off as there is apparently a one-way system currently being used (there was no signage, so not sure how we were meant to know this).

The place is absolutely beautiful and everything I’d hoped, except it’s really busy. Even with Covid rules. I dread to think how packed it gets in peak season in a normal year. It did kind of spoil the magic a bit for me, so be prepared for a lot of spatially-unaware people if you plan to go.

To get to the famous 199 steps, you walk up a darling cobbled street, really narrow and quaint. It’s lined with nothing but independent shops and pubs, adding to the local, cosy feel. We spied a few places we wanted to look in later on but for now we had a date with Whitby Abbey.

I lost count while climbing the stairs, but I’m sure they’re not lying about the number of them. I’ve definitely gotten a lot fitter this year as I absolutely beasted the steps (it also helps that they’re shallow in height but wide in foot space). My favourite thing was the so-called ‘coffin benches’ that appear in intervals along the railings. They look innocuous enough, a resting place for people to stop if the steps are too much, but they were actually originally used to rest coffins on as pallbearers took the long march up to the church. It was fine trotting up the stairs by myself, but I couldn’t imagine having to carry a body and coordinate with five other people up them. The coffin benches would have definitely been a useful addition.

I wanted to take a photo looking down on the harbour when I reached the top of the steps. This turned out to be a debacle as there were a lot of people, including two girls who had to take about 8000000 photos of each other in the same spot, so I couldn’t get the nice, clear shot that I wanted. Imagine not being aware of people and space around you and just blocking everyone else’s way/view – couldn’t be me.

A crap-quality photo of one of the coffin benches.

The steps lead right up to St. Mary’s church (yes, another one). It was founded in the late 12^th century, but the interior of it is as modern as the 19^th century. It’s surrounded by a lovely, spacious graveyard with a lot of Victorian graves. We were running early for our Abbey visit, so we took a turn around the graveyard. We walked around the headland and looked out to the bay and the sea beyond. Turning back from the cliff’s edge, headstones led to the church, and the silhouette of the Abbey rose up in the background. It was a very atmospheric place, even if it was still really sunny.

To actually get to the Abbey from St Mary’s, you have to walk around the perimeter of the site to the official entrance. It’s about half a mile, which we didn’t realise until we were there. Thank goodness we were early! We could have parked in the Abbey car park, right outside the site entrance, but we’re cheap and didn’t want to pay more for parking. It was a nice walk, anyway – the sun shone, and we could look at the Abbey from all angles on our way. We passed Whitby brewery and Martin vowed to get some Whitby ale to take home.

Before we went in, we used the only toilet facilities on the site. For the love of all that is holy, please don’t use the toilets unless you absolutely have to. Firstly, you have to pay 20p to get in, but they’re also horrible. They stank and seemed pretty unhygienic. I’m hoping we just caught them on a bad day, but it was unpleasant, and the toilet company sort of has you over a barrel as there aren’t any others available in or around the Whitby Abbey site.

Another mini rant I’d like to have is about people who can’t plan ahead. There was a small group of people arguing with the English Heritage volunteer outside the entrance because they hadn’t pre-booked their visit. Because of Covid-19 English Heritage, like most places, require you to book in advance so that they can carefully control how many visitors are in a site throughout the day. It’s sensible and really not that difficult, but these people apparently hadn’t even looked on the website for info and had just swanned up thinking they could walk in. I can’t imagine being so unprepared – I looked up every place I wanted to visit during this trip to make sure a) they were open and b) I pre-booked anything that required it.

Once we’d shown our tickets and been permitted entry, there’s another trek across a large field to get to the foot of the ruins. You have to take a bit of a long way around, as the marshy field has several ponds dotted around. As we were walking towards it, the sun came out from behind a cloud and lit up the wall we were facing, highlighting the wonderful brickwork. I might have almost walked into a large pond because of the distraction.

I was immediately enamoured. I knew that Whitby Abbey was a beautiful place, having seen many photos and descriptions of it. But, as always with travel, nothing really prepares you for seeing something there in front of you. It’s a surreal feeling, especially when it’s something you’ve wanted to see for almost as long as you can remember.

Me on a mission towards the Abbey.

As we came around to the side of the ruins, there was what appeared to be a stone grave in the ground. I’ve had a look around online and can’t find any information about it, which makes it even creepier. I joked about it being my bed, of course.

The ruins are much larger than they look in photos, and they are absolutely stunning. I kind of feel like the ruins are more beautiful than if the entire building still stood. I wandered around for absolutely ages just taking in all of the details. Many photos were taken, but I’ll only select a few for this post or we’ll be here all night.

Before I continue, I’ll go over some history of the Abbey. Excavations have led historians to believe that the site was settled as early as the Bronze Age, though a monastery wasn’t built until the 7^th century, when an Anglian community settled there. The monastery was founded by Hild, who was later canonised as a saint. The monastery was abandoned during Viking raids, and stayed that way until the early 11^th century when it was revived as a Benedictine monastery. In the 13^th century, the whole thing was rebuilt in the Gothic style you see today. As always, I’ve condensed almost two thousand years of history, so I’ll drop a link to the English Heritage page. Definitely have a read if you’re interested in learning more.

Of course, the reason the Abbey sits in ruins is because of Henry VIII suppressing it in the 16^th century. There’s a bit of a running theme of old Harry ruining everything, isn’t there? A lot of the west front of the site was also taken out by German bombardment in the First World War. It’s actually kind of impressive that so much is still standing.

The Gothic architecture is still stunning and intricate, with added character from hundreds of years of exposure and weathering. I could have sat up there all day – I imagine it’s a lovely picnic spot when there isn’t a global pandemic happening.

No matter which angle you come at it, Whitby Abbey offers dramatic, striking views. Depending on the way the light hits it, it can look bright and welcoming or eerie and foreboding. I especially liked this photo I took when the sun disappeared behind the clouds, silhouetting the hulking shape of the ruins.

I curse being unphotogenic and really shit at posing, but here’s a photo Mum took of me chilling. We sat for a long while, looking at the silhouetted ruins and soaking up the sunlight – despite the breeze, it was really warm.

Once we’d had our fill of the ruins, we masked up and went into the on-site museum which was fortunately open. In there, I learned a lot of the history of the site, as well as seeing some fantastic fossils and jet pieces on display. I also learned an amusing story about ammonites, which are in abundance here on the Jurassic Coast. A lot of these spiral-shaped fossils have been found in and around Whitby, and a legend sprung up around them. It’s said that St Hilda (the Hild I mentioned before) got rid of a plague of snakes by turning them all to stone. My Mum has a phobia of snakes, and became a big St Hilda fan on reading that story. We actually spotted a couple of fossils that had had snake heads carved into them, too.

My favourite thing in the whole museum, though, was a first edition of Dracula, signed by Bram Stoker. I can’t imagine how valuable that is, and I seethed with envy when I saw it.

The museum was really interesting. Because it’s smaller, we got the chance to read all of the little signs and titbits without being overwhelmed. The museum is linear and then leads to a slope that takes you down into the gift shop. I had been a bit worried about this part. I thought I might buy everything in sight. Incredibly, I managed to be fairly reasonable, though the payoff was spending forever in the shop trying to decide. In the end I bought: two magnets (one for my Dad), a handmade mug with a cool Whitby Abbey design on it, a coaster, and a little hanging decoration of the Abbey. There was so much jet jewellery, a Whitby GIN, and lots of vampire-themed things – I definitely recommend looking in there when you visit (but ware your wallet!).

Back at the bottom of the 199 steps, we turned right onto Henrietta Street to find a fishmonger I’d read about. It’s called Fortune’s Kippers and has been running since 1872, making it the oldest smokehouse in Whitby. It’s also the most authentic, using a traditional oak-smoking technique to prepare the fish. We had been able to smell the smoke from up on the cliffs, and the smell only got more pervasive as we walked down the road towards it. We were invited to take a peek in the smokehouse, and got three kippers to eat for breakfast tomorrow. I’ve never had a kipper before, so I think it’s best that my first one should be a really traditional and top-quality one.

Back down the cobbled lane to Church Street, Mum and I had to make a stop in W Hamond, the first Whitby jet shop. It sells other jewellery, but I really wanted to see the jet itself. It’s so expensive, but there were absolutely beautiful pieces in there. Cameos carved from pure jet, rings and necklaces with inlaid jet shined up to a lustre, and a magnificent spiky crown of jet and other jewels. I have no idea where you would have worn this thing, but it was so beautiful and cost over £3000. I joked that I needed this crown to sweep around the house with.

We also took a turn around the Jet Museum, operated by W Hamond. There were so many stunning pieces of jewellery and ornaments, I dread to think how much they’re worth these days. I found out that jet is in fact petrified bark from a Jurassic ancestor of the monkey puzzle tree, and is around 180 million years old. It’s becoming incredibly rare, as it’s been used as a precious stone since pre-historic times, so it’s quite valuable, and you can only get this particular jet in Whitby.

Because it’s pitch black and ever so shiny, Whitby jet was a favourite material of the Victorians to use in mourning jewellery, of which there was a lovely little collection in the museum.

There was a tiny chocolatiers called Justin’s that I immediately wanted to go into because there were chocolate coffins in the window. Before you ask, they weren’t full-sized (though that would have been amazing), but they weren’t all a uniform shape and size as they’re handmade. I got one, and also a small bag of ‘Vampire’s Dream’ fudge, which was strawberry flavoured and delicious.

In one of the many, many jet shops I found a little sterling silver necklace with a bat-shaped pendant. It had a little piece of jet inlaid on the bat’s chest and it was so cute. It was also fairly reasonably priced at £35. I vowed that I’d come back for it if I didn’t find anything else that I liked more.

We were hungry by this time and decided to find a quiet-ish place for lunch. A pub called The White Horse & Griffin soon caught our eye and we were relieved to find that it wasn’t too packed and there was plenty of space between guests. We all opted for a Whitby cod and chips dinner. Martin went mad and had a large portion, which was the source of hilarity when the waiter brought it out to him. This thing must have been a whale, I’m not kidding – it was huge. We fell about laughing when we saw it, it was so impressive.

Dinner was so delicious – the cod was as fresh as you can get from the harbour. The batter was light and crispy, not too oily. The chips were fluffy and perfectly seasoned, and the meal was served with tartare sauce and some absolutely divine minted mushy peas. I practically inhaled my plate, it was so good (and walking around the windy headland had really worked up my appetite).

After we’d finished our food and drinks, we dropped Martin at a pub called The Green Dragon (my inner LOTR geek loved this name) to sample some ales, so that Mum and I could look around the shops without boring him to death. I went back to Genuine Whitby Jet and got the bat necklace - someday I will own a huge piece of Whitby jet, but for now this will do nicely.

I had promised Caz (oldest pally, cohort on my Tokyo trip) that I’d buy her a really tacky souvenir from Whitby, and I found the perfect thing in one of the gifts shops. It’s a little statue of a cartoony Dracula, holding a sign saying ‘I ♥ blood banks’. It’s glorious and hideous and I adore it. We found Martin in a different pub, The Black Horse, and had to wait outside because it was at full (reduced) capacity.

Soon enough, the time was beginning to run out on the car so we made a decision to come back on Friday to see some other things I had on my list. We got a quick ice cream and ate them on the way back to the car park.

I was so tired when we got home. It isn’t even late, so I’ve just been chilling and reading. I’m really looking forward to going back and seeing more of Whitby on Friday. I’m also kind of hoping for a gloomier day – I appreciate the sunshine but I’m a slave to the aesthetic~

Here’s a photo of my winnings from today, minus the Vampire’s Dream fudge because that is long gone: