Monday saw the rains return. Dale soldiers on with terrible shin splints and the lurgy and I got intimate with North Yorkshire public transit. 23 miles of a 150′ ceiling misery and we connected again later in the afternoon at the cold and damp Blue Bell Inn.
The BBI is owned and operated by a hard working one man band who advised us at breakfast this morning that he last took a day off three and half years ago when he bought it. Dale took it upon himself to learn some Guinness pouring skills as no one was behind the bar till opening at 6:00 pm.
Dale was later told that his bar tending endeavours are acceptable in Yorkshire but may have gone over like a lead balloon in other parts of the country. Prior to arriving I took a wonderful stroll around Richmond proper and then a scenic trip by bus to the BBI in Ingleby Cross complete with a 3 hour stopover in Northallerton.
The BBI is unique. The room has a persistent leak that began to stream through the roof around 2:30 this morning. That may have had something to do with the torrential downpour. The relentless patter of rain pelting against the window was a little concerning.
Upon closer inspection in the daylight we thought it best to let the land lord know ASAP as the damage was moving quite quickly towards electrics. With bags packed and marked for the next B&B (Maltkiln House) near Clay Bank Top it was time for breakfast in the pub dining room.
Scrambled eggs, bacon and toast was the fare this morning. The first day without black pudding was a little disconcerting. How will my constitution react? Will I go into detox, will I need to lock myself away from the public eye until the fever breaks and I can hold down room temperature tap water or maybe tepid tomato soup? The distasteful life of a black pudding junkie. Don’t stare, we are to be pitied.
So after several hours on the mend, here I sit in Costa Coffee having a coffee and trying to work out which one of the several black pudding dealers (butchers) I should go visit on Stokesley’s high street to get a fix. I know I know. I can’t begin to heal until I hit rock bottom and opt for the simple bacon sandwich instead.
The Fair is resident in Stokesley this week. Proper gypsies, lock your doors!
The weather continues to disappoint but hay hoe that’s what we expected. And dear old England has not disappointed. Happy days are near. Two more days to Robin Hood’s Bay.
Ta for now.