Rievaulx and Whitby

Another in a series of after-the-fact posts:
Today we headed for two great ruined abbeys. The first stop was Rievaulx Abbey (map). It was a lovely drive past and through the North York Moors National Park. We cruised past some interesting sights like the Hole of Horcum, which, in addition to having a very silly name, is a very big hole indeed. It looks like some sort of caldera or meteor crater.
Another interesting sight was the white horse carved into the hillside, we could just see it from the highway, but it didn't come out on any of my pictures. If you go to this site, and look at the bottom row, center, you'll see a much nicer picture of it.
Then, we had a spot of bother, when Paul suddenly lost confidence in his sense of direction. After we passed through the town of Helmsley, we stopped seeing signs for the abbey, and no one was sure we hadn't passed it. So, Paul did a very nice 3-point turn on the road and headed back to Helmsley to ask for directions. He and Ken jumped out of the coach and went to a local shop, whose proprietor came out and helped them reenact a scene from Dragnet. There was much serious pointing and nodding for a few minutes.
Finally they headed back and reported that we had been headed in the right direction but we'd turned back too soon. Another 3-point turn, and away we went.

Rievaulx Abbey
Originally uploaded by woden325.

Rievaulx was lovely. It sits in the Rye Valley, down a perilously narrow and twisty road. Poor Paul seemed very unhappy with the situation, and had a heck of a time parking the coach. Then, another coach arrived, and it was touch and go for a while as Paul and his counterpart tried to shoehorn two big coaches into one very small lot.
Meanwhile, Jan, Ken and Barb were attempting to get our ticket voucher approved, despite some stubbornness on the part of the head honcho at the gift-shop.
But back to the abbey, it is a lovely old ruin, mostly Early English, with some Norman/Romanesque and Decorated touches thrown in for good measure. It was my first time here, but hopefully won't be my last. I was fascinated to see that some of the medieval tiles still remained in the nave of the ruined church. It was also interesting to see that more of the original complex remained here than at Whitby. Rievaulx still had remains of the chapter house, hospital, and other monastic buildings, whereas Whitby only has the main church.
Had a quick lunch with Ken and Terry at the gift shop (which somehow also offended the honcho) before leaving for Whitby (map). The chocolate-dipped flapjack (not a pancake, more like a granola bar) is not to be missed.
Closer to Whitby, we passed RAF Flyingdales and its big Phased Array radar. The radar is part of the US ballistic missile warning system, and thus reports to NORAD, so there's an odd local connection for you.
The drive through the National Park was, at the risk of repeating myself, wonderful. The only real downside was that the heather was not in bloom. Otherwise, the hills would have been covered with little purple flowers.
Finally, we arrived at Whitby. As I've mentioned before, I did my pre-class presentation, and my senior thesis, on the Synod of Whitby, so this is a place near and dear to my heart.
The town is located on the North Sea, at the mouth of the River Esk, and it is always bustling in the summer. It's not as popular a resort as, say, Blackpool, but it was jumping on both of my trips there.
Terry and I immediately headed off for the famed 199 steps, which lead from the riverside to St. Mary's church and the abbey. St. Mary's is an odd little church, very Norman on the exterior, but with an odd mish-mash of styles on the interior. The nave has a tendency toward the neo-classical that seems out of step with the thousand-year old exterior.

Terry at Whitby
Originally uploaded by woden325.

We headed over to the abbey, and found that English Heritage had done a fine job relocating and expanding the visitor's center since my last visit. On my last visit, in 2000, I don't recall there being anything but a poky little shack at the entrance, but now they've built on to the shell of the old manor house and put in quite a nice exhibition of the archaeological finds from the abbey's history. On the down side, they've also built up the wall adjoining the church yard, so it's harder to see the ruins if you don't want to shell out the admission fee.
We eventually worked our way back down the stairs and walked through the little tourist-trap shops that you find in these kind of towns. I was particularly amused to see one shop selling little chintzy models of the Liberty Bell -- something I haven't seen outside of Philadelphia.
From there, Terry and I walked out along the pier, which was nice -- in a vertigo inducing sort of way. When we were out at the tip of the pier, we saw Dawn, Cara, Evan and several of the other "pilgrims" (as Jan puts it) sailing by on one of the tour boats. Sadly, I'd run out of film memory by that point, so I couldn't snap any pictures.
From there we worked our way back to the coach. And then back to York.
Later, went to dinner at Russell's Restaurant in Coopergate. I won't say with whom, because I've forgotten who all came, and I don't want to skip anyone. That was something that didn't end up in my notebook, oops. Sorry.
I do remember having a superb poached salmon filet for dinner, and a very nice tawny port, which explains the memory loss. I also remember Jan's dessert was a thing of beauty.
And so, as Samuel Pepys might say, to bed. Tomorrow, we head back south.