Thank you very much for the appreciations and thanks for the hints, ebel and England-Kev.
I'll be coming back, so I will have a better look next time.
I'm just glad this radar station didn't cook my brains.
Let's move on a bit, shall we?
John and Susann, my hosts for tonight made me a wonderful english breakfast and we chatted a bit. I can recommend them in Sedbergh, they are the first B&B coming into town from West.
They miss dearly the bikers which normally go to the Isle of Man through there. Told me, one time they had 13 bikes in front. They want that again, so give them a stop.
And hey, with THAT view in the morning the day can only be great, can it not?
From Sedbergh, I drove further into the Yorkshire National Park. Hell of a lot of twisty roads, much up and down, everything very rural, of course. As you can see.
Looking a bit around, seems I'm about to get pretty much soaked, doesn't it?
Dark Skies and everything. Hence I made a little bit of haste at least. As we'll find later, totally without reason.
Driving those twisties, I pretty much learned soon: if the Englishman writes “slow down” you sure as hell do so. Otherwise you slip on the painting before the curve, which tells you to.
You do not see the end of the curve? Slow down.
You go up a hill, can’t see over it and could slow down even further without tipping over or appearing like a totally scared dork? Fucking do so now!
Otherwise, you WILL kill the Easter Bunny and make my niece cry.
If you are very, very lucky that is. If not, suicidal Nazivampirezombiesheep of Doom of Death from Outer Space +3
will kill YOU instead.
We'll find out more about them later on, of course. And no, this was of course no close call. Those came later. Once again, you really do learn to drive in England, esp. when your bike is an overloaded beast with nearly 400 Kilograms and a lot of UUMPH from the low revs.
Basically, I headed toward Aysgarth Falls. I admit, back then I was too much of a pussy to take photographs of the EPIC twisties one rides along the way. Lots of cottages everywere, you could zip out the camera al the time – which I did. Anyhow, you will never be able to transport the beauty of the scenery and moment. Oh well, Dave Schwartz is able to do that of course, but...
On Aysgarth Falls I bought a coffee which I drank looking down to the church and having a smoke. There I learned: Sheep make the best caretakers for your grass. And the mix well with gravestones as well.
Also, look at this furkin’ S-curve down a 25%!!! Hill. Going down was a pain. Going it UP was making me sweat. If for nothing else, then because there are Tractors with overbroad coming DOWN and they cannot brake. Or at least, they don't.
In “the Falls” Café which was very quiet and being operated by a guy who could just as well be Paul McCartney, from the looks of it and the music running, I bought myself some Game Pie, made of Peasant breast to be precise…will come in handy later on. Right next to the cafe, this rather famous wooden means of transportation has been parked. Remember the Emperor in Gladiator? The very same.
The Falls themselves take a bit of a walk and the Englishman encourage you to take it. From the looks of the people around they NEED to be encouraged. The Falls are not that impressive. Just some cascades of 1 to 2 meter drops, the water being brown as like coming from a swamp.
But then, the clever guys lead you right to the river on the way BACK. And this is nice, have a look!
From there, I headed out to Scarborough, which is almost all the way back from were I came. Haven’t gotten soaked so far and now sun came out, the Temperature rose to almost 30° C and I needed to get rid of my gear. But I drove on, ‘cause there was a hell of traffic going on between York and Scarborough. Still, I stopped sometimes after all.
Oh and I learned something about fourlaned streets in UK:
1. it is no problem at all to throw gravel on the road and the slow down traffic to 20 mph for skidrisk. For about 15 miles.
2. they actually buildplaces to go right or make u-turns in these streets. Nice idea. You speed with 70 miles and suddenly, someone in front of you makes a U-turn.
3. but they have pretty artistic signs warning of deer.
4. and their Flitzerblitzers are not exactly prone to catch someone.
The English people really like their Hores.
They do like them SO much, the let them run around freely along a crowded “Interstate”. And I liked them too, so I sat down and had about 90 Min of break, making me a meal. During that, World War II fighters were going over me all the time. You now, real ones.
Finally I arrived in Scarborough and made it to the Old Race Circuit.
Wasn’t worth it, but what the hell. If I didn’t drive there, I would have asked myself all the time what I’ve missed.
There, I learned something. As one says, when you are looking for beautiful women and your in UK: go elsewhere. Normally, I tend to agree.
But sometimes you just have to take a closer look… With the Girl playing with the dogs, I did not even recognize here age and I could not care less. The scene was just awesome.
The ride from Scarborough to Newcastle was very tiresome, but worth it. You do not see the North Sea often, but WHEN you do it’s when you are riding over the hills, with mountain flora beside you. Scenic.
Once in Newcastle, I immediately learned: veni, visi, vomisi.
I came, I saw, I wanted to throw up. But after all, Newcastle had it’s good sides: a) I did not need to waste my time there, b) it started raining there only after I left, c) I got out very quickly and d) an old Norton.
So, skip Newcastle.
Headed further to Northumberland Park and wanted to go to Bamburgh Castle from there. Once I passed the border to Scotland I was greeted immediately with the bad-to-the-bone kind of rain. You now, soft, smallest drops, which go everywhere no matter what. But I was greated by scenic views as well, so who cares.
Being about 60 km from Bamburgh, I found out I drove like an elder, not leaning in or anything – totally unsure, unsafe, tired. Thus I turned over at the next campsite possible, ‘cause it’s simply not worth it.
There I sat up the tent and after throwing all my equip in, it started really pouring down. What did I care, I sat in the dry with all my stuff. Time to roast my Peasant Pie, simply with bacon, onion, salt and pepper. Oh yeah, and ale plus cider alongside, of course.
Good night =)