Yorkshire Touring Part 2: Poor navigation, my logic and almost driving up a mountain.
As promised, here is an update on my tour de Yorkshire (just not on a bike) - a slightly less navigational successful week two!
So having arrived we felt that nothing else could go wrong, so we got the directions up on my phone and headed out for a chilly 8 mile walk to clear away the cobwebs. Up a muddy path and over a gate that we thought was locked but the couple behind us opened with ease, we began. Following the directions was the easy part, the muddy paths were ridiculous. All I heard throughout was my clumsy friend behind me saying 'oop..whoops...ohhh...aahh' while slipping and sliding. I really thought/hoped she'd fall flat on her face purely for my benefit and a quality photo opportunity to send to You've Been Framed, but that's just mean. We kept walking through all weather conditions - a bit of sunshine, cold and dull and even snow which as a southerner I'd class a blizzard but my friend disagreed. We made it to the midway point and then I took over the directions to get us from Rievaulx Abbey up a pointless hill to a National Trust owned terrace that was shut for the winter (what?) and back down again onto the main road- that's as far as my talents go!
With me still navigating, we ignored the route that said 2 miles to Helmsley and followed my instructions which took us through numerous muddy fields with angry dogs and startled sheep back to where we were an hour before (much further than 2 miles). Knowing we still had an hour to go and my friend being scared of the muddy steps that she almost fell down last time, we decided to divert and head down what looked like a road but actually led nowhere. We came to an estate filled with men in tweed and black Labradors. With a sign on the gate reading 'Private Property' and using my reliable logic, I decided that they would probably shoot us dead if we entered, so we did. Nervously walking down this path they didn't seem to bat an eyelid and probably get random, lost, poor navigators all the time. On our exit from this lovely land we realised we had just walked on Duncombe Park which was a place we initially wanted to visit but was also 'closed for winter' (what?).
So after a warm beverage in the coziest cafe ever, we headed for the hills. Of course, it's me and Liv so no journey goes without a little bit of drama. On the way she had warned me about Sutton Bank which she had described to me as if it were a mountain, stating that it's often closed due to lorries and caravans getting stuck. I was so glad we had avoided it as my car isn't the most powerful and after getting beeped at attempting to get up what i'd class as a mountain on the way back from Whitby one time, I hate driving in parts of Yorkshire! On the way back however, we took a wrong turning almost straight away heading for this Sutton Bank. The warning signs filled me with mini panic attacks as my friend sat in the passenger seat laughing and attempting to reassure me that there would be a turning just before. I didn't believe her and as the sign read 1 mile to Sutton Bank I swiftly made my own turn off and headed the other direction (not dramatic AT all).
This week our destination was less than half of last weeks so again we sacrificed our Sat Nav for Spotify's top mixing. It'll be sign-posted, they said - it wasn't.
We got off the A64 into Malton and did a little tour around there (not because we were lost, no, we just love looking at cattle markets) and then turned up a road that the sign to Helmsley (our destination) could have been pointing to, we were unsure. At the end of this bending road we came to a crossroads with signs, none of which said Helmsely. At a guess we went straight over, having sat locked in decision for a while (luckily nobody was behind us) and carried on down another extremely bending road and soon realised we had definitely gone wrong (again). Eventually, we were back on track (we think) and keeping our fingers crossed to miraculously end up at Helmsley (we did) only to realise, passing a sign that said 'York 20 Miles', that we had clearly taken the longest route out there.
So having arrived we felt that nothing else could go wrong, so we got the directions up on my phone and headed out for a chilly 8 mile walk to clear away the cobwebs. Up a muddy path and over a gate that we thought was locked but the couple behind us opened with ease, we began. Following the directions was the easy part, the muddy paths were ridiculous. All I heard throughout was my clumsy friend behind me saying 'oop..whoops...ohhh...aahh' while slipping and sliding. I really thought/hoped she'd fall flat on her face purely for my benefit and a quality photo opportunity to send to You've Been Framed, but that's just mean. We kept walking through all weather conditions - a bit of sunshine, cold and dull and even snow which as a southerner I'd class a blizzard but my friend disagreed. We made it to the midway point and then I took over the directions to get us from Rievaulx Abbey up a pointless hill to a National Trust owned terrace that was shut for the winter (what?) and back down again onto the main road- that's as far as my talents go! 
With me still navigating, we ignored the route that said 2 miles to Helmsley and followed my instructions which took us through numerous muddy fields with angry dogs and startled sheep back to where we were an hour before (much further than 2 miles). Knowing we still had an hour to go and my friend being scared of the muddy steps that she almost fell down last time, we decided to divert and head down what looked like a road but actually led nowhere. We came to an estate filled with men in tweed and black Labradors. With a sign on the gate reading 'Private Property' and using my reliable logic, I decided that they would probably shoot us dead if we entered, so we did. Nervously walking down this path they didn't seem to bat an eyelid and probably get random, lost, poor navigators all the time. On our exit from this lovely land we realised we had just walked on Duncombe Park which was a place we initially wanted to visit but was also 'closed for winter' (what?).
Not only had we already gone the back way into two places that were closed for winter, while walking out of the entrance to Duncombe Park we could see into the walled gardens at Helmsely (also closed for winter) and got a great view of the castle ruins which we had refused to pay £5.20 to see as we parked up - result!
So after a warm beverage in the coziest cafe ever, we headed for the hills. Of course, it's me and Liv so no journey goes without a little bit of drama. On the way she had warned me about Sutton Bank which she had described to me as if it were a mountain, stating that it's often closed due to lorries and caravans getting stuck. I was so glad we had avoided it as my car isn't the most powerful and after getting beeped at attempting to get up what i'd class as a mountain on the way back from Whitby one time, I hate driving in parts of Yorkshire! On the way back however, we took a wrong turning almost straight away heading for this Sutton Bank. The warning signs filled me with mini panic attacks as my friend sat in the passenger seat laughing and attempting to reassure me that there would be a turning just before. I didn't believe her and as the sign read 1 mile to Sutton Bank I swiftly made my own turn off and headed the other direction (not dramatic AT all).
Knowing vaguely where we had gone wrong it was OK and I felt confident that I could get us home, taking the shorter route to York rather than the scenic one we had taken. It was all going so well with Heart Radio accompanying the journey due to lack of phone battery for Spotify, until a DHL van in a mad rush (knob) sprayed me dirtying my windscreen. It was at this point that I realised I had no screen-wash left (Mum don't read this) so we pretended everything was OK aside from the dirty windscreen (which I could barely see through) all the way back to York.
Until next time, tarah!
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