Lower Wensleydale to Cayton

By it was a nippy one last night! Mrs Slaw needed gloves and a scarf this morning while taking the pooches on their morning constitutional. There was a hard frost, icy cold but beautiful, as the morning sunlight danced on the white grass making it sparkle and shine like diamonds.

Even blue tits are joining the caravan club!

The Slaws are on day four of their North Yorkshire adventure. Yesterday was spent in Leyburn and today they move on to Cayton. All campsites are Caravan and Motorhome Club sites and this is their first outing for six months due to COVID lockdowns. To say they are giddy is a bit of an understatement 🤣

This morning’s constitutional took Mrs Slaw, Prince William and the Cottingham Cowgirl down to Harmby Waterfall. It’s a busy road that runs past them and the sound of traffic usually drowns out the sound of the falls, but this morning was still and the traffic light. The sound of the water was loud and unmistakable. Mrs Slaw wasn’t sure how to get to them though 🤔 She ended up going down what appeared to be a private driveway. The pooches refused point blank to go into the thick, spiky undergrowth with Mrs Slaw (well, they have got short legs 😂) Pooches tied to a tree and Mrs Slaw set forth determinedly like Indiana Jones minus the machete, hat and boots. Okay, not like Indiana Jones at all. The falls were clearly visible not too far in luckily. The whole expedition taking less than 30 seconds. There must be an easier way though surely!

Harmby waterfall

The Slaws left Wensleydale and the vista opened out to a wide expanse; hills only found far on the horizon. The journey took them through the pretty market town of Thirsk. No sign of the Yorkshire Vet though. Mrs Slaw really is slipping in her stalking skills 🤣 Taking the A170 from Thirsk to Scarborough, is particularly scenic, especially as you enter the North York Moors National Park. However, you are bombarded by road signs warning of the impending Sutton Bank; the severity of the gradient means that car and caravans are prohibited. Even though Helga is a motorhome, this was a red rag to a bull and a mist enveloped Slaw. He became glassy eyed, not seeing or hearing anything. Steering wheel gripped tightly; teeth clenched. Oh no, another Bealach Na Ba feared Mrs Slaw 😱 Helga selected her own gears and the Slaw’s sailed up Sutton Bank with ease. What was all the fuss about? The perfect photo opportunity was also thwarted by the trees lining the ascent. Such a shame.

Following the road ever eastwards, the higgledy piggledy cottages with their red tiled roofs are so quaint and photogenic. Their tiny doors and windows seemingly perfect for the vertically challenged Mrs Slaw.

What a difference a day and a few miles makes. From yesterday’s golden triumph, the daffodils lining the route to Cayton have now turned. No longer standing proud and tall, shining radiantly, but brown, wizened and bowed. A sad end to their glory.

The Slaws arrived at Cayton Village; a newly revamped CAMC campsite and chose a pitch on the upper site. Slaw always get his compass out and checks where the sun will go down. He chose well and they enjoyed barbecuing and drinks with friends in the sunshine until it set over the hill at 7.30pm.