All photos related to this blog entry can be found at Grant & Julie

Rievaulx Abbey

We have a rule when it comes to travelling and cities and that is 'If it pisses you off, then get out". Once out, you can decide to stay outside and catch public transport in or give it a wide berth and do something else instead.

We chose the latter in Bath. After being hustled, bustled and battered about the narrow one way streets (peak hour traffic will do that) we got out, got lost and discovered our first 'farm stay' camp ground. Basically these campgrounds boil down to a farmer offering a space in a field for campers, a toilet and running water (as a minimum) showers, kitchen wash-up areas and laundry's (at the more glamorous) for between $5 and $25 per night depending on services offered.

Farm stay – Wales: Minding our own business walking out on the bluff enjoying the view when Mr Harries, 80 something years young, pulls up in his four wheeler buggy. Always in for a chat Mr Harries tells us of a sea fog thicker than soup that engulfed the area over one hundred years ago. A little boy was born to a local fisherman during the souper which apparently lasted for such a long time that the child never saw his mothers face until he was three years old . Filled with bad 'dad' jokes and silly tales Mr Harries kept us entertained all the while offering a tot of whisky from his ever present bottle on the passenger seat.

Farm stay – England: It was starting to get late in the day and we were ready to stop. Locating a camp ground we pulled in and eventually found the warden who informed us of his policy not to take people in tents as they cause too much trouble. Disappointed and tetchy we continued on until we saw an inconspicuous sign... a faded homemade sign depicting a tent and a directional arrow. Pulling into the drive was a freshly threshed field with a picnic table. We were warmly greeted by the owner who made us feel very welcome, despite having a tent, and kindly supplied us with half a dozen eggs laid by her chickens that morning. We guess that not everyone believes ‘tenters’ to be troublesome after all.

Farm Stay Camping - Wales

By Australian standards, the UK is a tiny country, we found ourselves zigzagging across the isle, just to get a "decent" ride under our belts.

WALES - WEST COAST

Wales, with its dual language and post card quality scenery was a delight to ride around. Less populated than England, we enjoyed the picturesque and twisty country roads running through towns, national parks and fortified seaside villages.

Newport (Trefdraeth in Welsh), Pembrokeshire, a quaint fishing village, nestled in a deep ravine along the coastal walking path, is home to a few curiosities.

Newport Castle: Perched eerily above the town, this now private residence, has been the scene of many conflicts throughout history. Initially a Norman wooden fort was built by the water’s edge possibly as early as 1191. Over a relatively short period of time a stone castle and church were built upon the hill to replace the fort. The castle was severely damaged during the Welsh Revolt at the start of the 15th Century. During the 1800’s the castle ruins were renovated into a three story residence on the site of the castle’s gate house. Three towers and a curtain wall remain.

Carreg Coetan Arthur – Burial Stones: At approximately 5000 years old these burial stones are the remains of a Neolithic burial chamber. Technically it is a Tripod Dolmen – though there are four uprights (go figure), however, the cap stone is supported by only two of the upright stones. Excavations have revealed charred bones and pottery shards.

Sea Fret or Fog: Whilst sitting about in the sunshine soaking up some rays and cups of tea we noticed the Fret starting to roll in, slowly engulfing the surrounding vista. The fields across the bay disappeared under a thick blanket of fog. Other campers began to retreat to their vans and caravans. Packing up of afternoon tea things, sweaters being tugged over heads and the fog continued to roll in. We braved the Fret by remaining at our picnic table, even when we could no longer see across the field. The fog receded as quickly as it arrived and the sun once more warmed our backs. Our fellow campers emerged from the confines of their portable quarters.

YORKSHIRE – EAST COAST

Whipping east across the country through Yorkshire and across the North York Moors. We were half expecting to the ghosts of Cathy and Heathcliff to appear as we traversed the sparse landscape or Kate Bush to pop up singing Wuthering Heights... how disappointed we were.

Brompton, near Scarborough, we found the ghost, or at least the legacy, of Sir George Cayley, the foremost pioneer of flight. 100 years prior to The Wright Brothers taking to the air, Sir George developed theories on aerodynamics and aircraft design and engineering. His works were the basis for our modern aircraft. It is well recorded that the first ever manned flight took place on the Brompton Dales in a glider designed by Sir George ‘piloted’ by his coachman. It may be urban legend, nevertheless, after the flight the unscathed coachman resigned his employment, reportedly declaring ‘Sir, I was employed to drive not to fly!’ Grant, being an aeronautical nut, was so surprised and excited to stumble across Sir George Cayleys residence, Brompton Hall (now a school) and workshop, especially after visiting the George Cayley exhibit in London's Science Museum.

Rievaulx Abbey (pronounced ree-VOH), near Helmsley, was founded in 1132 by monks from Clairvaux Abbey in North Eastern France. Prior to its demise, the abbey was a very wealthy concern, selling their wood, iron and wool amongst other produce throughout England. King Henry the VIII dissolved the Abbey and commissioned it’s demolition in 1538.

Unbeknown to us the day we rode through North Yorkshire was the final day of a major motorcycle rally at the Duncombe Park Estate, Helmsley. Through out the day we saw hundreds of motorcycles and trikes of every make,model and description. We spent much of the day waving to other bikers. Funnily though, when we stopped for fuel not one other motorcyclist spoke to us, even though we greeted them.

Whitby Abbey, famous for being the inspiration of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, this ruined Benedictine Abbey overlooks the North Sea and the Port of Whitby. James Cook served his seaman’s apprenticeship in Whitby and a museum dedicated to his memory is located on the south bank of the River Esk.

CUMBRIA – AND BACK TO THE WEST COAST

Castlerigg Stone Circle – the British Isles are littered with these Neolithic constructions (approximately 1000 sites) and Castlerigg has been described as one of the most romantic, inspiring artists of written word throughout the modern age. Situated in the Northern Lakes district near Keswick, this stone circle has a panoramic view of Cumbria’s highest peaks and is believed to be one of the earliest stone circles in Europe.

Camping in Cumbria - surrounded by a giggle of school girls on camp you hear some fabulous things in the ladies loo (not withstanding the gossip of who is talking to/snogging with who and what she said/she did etc):

"I don't blame her entirely for the incident. Driving a car with four persons is entirely different to a car with seven persons. I have to admit that even I don't know when to change the gears."

And on another occasion:

"I won't come to Keswick with you, but I will drop you off. It's just that I don't know how to park or go in reverse... I can only go forwards when I drive"

Aberstwyth Foreshore