England Day Four: Beltane on the Bay

Bryony and Naomi and I woke up early on Friday (Beltane) morning, the fourth day of my trip, so we could head to Gilly's house outside York. It was wonderful to see Bryony's house again in daylight, even though we were heading out for the time being. Her home is such a cabinet of curiosities in the best of ways. She had redone her bathroom since the last time I was there, and it was sooo beautiful, painted a rich green with Morris' Willow pattern blended with similar willow patterns on all the curtains, rug, even the privacy film on the window. She has also started a new business since I was there last, finding beautiful pottery and household wares and selling them on. And her home reflected several new finds that suited the place beautifully.

It was a bit of a drive to Gilly's, but that means an opportunity for conversation. We talked about the fine dance creatives have to have between promoting oneself online, and getting the actual art done. (A conversation many creatives are having together these days.) 

We arrived at Gilly's place, which was light and airy and so beautifully her. She showed us the fey being she had created last year at the "Away with the Faeries" retreat Wendy Froud and Armorel Hamilton hosted. I was able to see three fae folk made by friends in person on the trip: Bryony's, Gilly's, and Naomi's, and they were all such magical combinations of their manifesting-person, and their own personalities. Between this trip, seeing their beautiful fey manifestings, and talking to them about the experience, I’m very tempted to sign up for a future retreat, even though three-dimensional sculpting isn’t something I ever thought I’d attempt.

Gilly has a huge mega-Tesco near her house, so we stopped by for snacks, and a lovely employee complimented my flower crown and wished me a blessed Beltane. It’s always lovely to stumble across someone who knows the Old Ways in a mundane setting. After we'd grabbed a few food items, we were back on the road, this time with Gilly driving us.

Actually, let me pause for a moment to give my sincere thanks to Bryony and Gilly for their driving on this trip. (And to everyone else for making their way to the adventures by train, Uber, or car.) Northern goblin adventures are phenomenally fun, but they also involve a lot of hours in the car, and I'm so so thankful that my friends are willing to chauffer me around the north when I visit. I did offer a turn at the wheel, but I don't blame them for declining. I may have some practice driving over there now, but it's still quite a new thing.

On the trip, I read my novella to them, which was fun to do on the winding roads. I managed though, and received accolades from everyone at the end. We parked in a field next to a little country inn and tavern (bathroom break with some funny looks, but we're used to it). We stood at the car and ate some lunch. (Thank you once more to my friend from the first two trip days for packing delicious empanadas for the road.)

The walk to Hayburn Wyke beach took a while, simply because the forest was so beautiful. It was really neat to experience an old growth forest on the edge of the ocean, since Oswald West/Short Sands beach in Oregon is one of my heart spaces, and that’s an old growth forest on the edge of a different ocean. We stopped at a scenic overlook, admired and climbed around in trees, and identified beautiful spring flowers.

As we descended down to the ocean, I couldn’t help but think about how we would eventually have to make our way back upto get back to the car. (Deep breath.) I should have done more hiking ahead of the trip to prepare.

The beach was entirely covered in rocks, mostly big bouldery ones, with little areas of smaller rocks. There was a gorgeous waterfall.

Bryony mentioned later that she didn’t fully realize how serious I was when I said my priority was to rock hunt. I immediately went for it. I found more wishing stones, beautiful ones. Gilly found a few as well that she let me keep, like a little narrow stone that was a fossil. (I believe she also took home one or two.) I kept one stone simply because it felt good in my hand. And then I found what I was hoping for: a beautiful hag stone with a nice large and clear hole right through. If the terrain had been amicable to it I might have done a happy dance.

Naomi and Bryony perched on a goblin-sized rock and watched us as we made our way rock hunting. (It wasn’t always easy terrain…I’m sure I looked like a sailor after ten cups of rum at times walking across that beach.) After some length of time (I have no idea how long we were there), we started to make our way back up. Whoosh. As I suspected, there were some moments I or someone else had to stop for a rest. But also…oh, how lovely it was. I actually think the way back was almost prettier. (To be fair, with nature this lovely it’s like comparing apples to oranges.) We exclaimed over little moss-covered vignettes of boulders. And there was the sweetest and most earnest looking boulder with a smiling tortoise face: he even had the little hooked beak and a slight flush to his cheeks.

Lookit him!! He even has flushed cheeks and a little tortoise-y hook at the center of his mouth.

This fellow seemed a bit grumpy, but I think he was secretly pleased we noticed him

When we got back to the car, we hydrated, rested, and then pondered what to do from there. The plan had been to go to Whitby, but a beautiful church in Scarborough was also proposed, or we could go to Robin Hood’s Bay.

As certain as I am that we would have had wonderful adventures had we chosen options a or b, I am so very glad we chose option c, despite the fact that it meant more almost-vertical walking.

When we first arrived, Bryony was craving some chips, so we stopped by a fish and chips shop. My fish was delicious, and I got to try mushy peas for the first time too.

Robin Hood’s Bay is strong competition in my “favorite town/village/city in north England” now, along with York. Wikipedia calls it a “maze of tiny streets,” which is true, but also imagine said streets on a steep steep incline, with various heights and types of steps connecting all the different areas. It almost felt like something out of Italy instead of England. (I’ve never been to Italy, just going by what I’ve seen in pictures.)

As we took a back way into the old town that Gilly knew, we started snaking through those little labyrinthian streets, several times having to backtrack because of “dead ends,” and pausing to take pictures of oh so many beautiful vignettes of gardens and doors. After a little while in these streets, I began to imagine wandering them at night by lantern light, wandering into fey folk also meandering the same streets on the other side of the veil. Perhaps there would be a goblin market at the bottom of the town, where the cobblestone street quite literally ends in the ocean. What better place to hold a faerie market where both sea and land beings could co-mingle?

Instagram profile @journeyswithjon said Robin Hood’s Bay was “described as ‘a great tumble of red roofs, sliding down the cliff to the sea.’ One of the most effortlessly picturesque places I’ve been in the UK.”

When we were at sea level in the village, a guy who had seen us at the Hayburn Wyke beach who was hiking the coast asked us how we got there before he did. Regretfully no one had split second wit to tell him we flew.

On our way back up the steep road from sea level, we ran across a sauced gentleman and his friend who wanted to tell us all about the history of the place. He had just come from being honored by the museum, he declared, and just today had found a giant piece of jet (an export of Robin Hood’s Bay) with an ammonite in it. He was a character, no mistake, even if we suspect he kept that ammonite in his pocket daily for years to share with tourists and claim he found the thing “just that morning!” 

We made our way back to Gilly’s for delicious soup and bread, some tea, a little bit of sleepy conversation, and awaiting beds. The plans for Saturday were a bit of a mystery to me…I was curious what the day would bring.