“Everywhere peace, everywhere serenity, and a marvelous freedom from the tumult of the world.” — Aelred, Abbot of Rievaulx Abbey (1142-1167) on the North Yorkshire Moors
There’s a drive I often like to take in my mind.
Yes, it’s in my mind.
No, I’m not crazy.
Much.
*sigh*
When life gets all too complicated and I just need to escape, I shut my eyes and go to a memory of this drive. And, it’s so clear it feels like I was only just there yesterday. Sometimes I picture it during the day, but most times I see it just as night is falling.
It’s a beautiful, yet bittersweet drive because it’s of a place I ache for. It’s harsh and it’s desolate, but a place of captivating scenery that has this magical ability to make me both smile and miss it every day.
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I close my eyes and enter the North Yorkshire Moors National Park and therein my journey begins. A strange feeling of calm always settles over me as I gaze at its stunning landscape. The beauty of these moors is truly haunting. Truly.
The bleak road hugs the moors as I pass by the natural beauty spot called the Hole of Horcum — a vast basin carved out from a glacier thousands of years ago. I find myself gazing into it. Drawn to its wild and wonderful scenery like a moth to the flame. Incidentally, my hubby’s family owns a pig farm not too far from here.
Immediately beyond the hole is a celebrated pub called the Saltersgate Inn that stands alone against the quiet of the moorland. I’ve never been inside, but it’s said that a fire has burned continuously in its hearth since 1801. According to legend, if the fire is allowed to go out, disaster will befall the landlord and his customers.
At this point, you can sometimes see or hear the railway. Just off in the distance. Chugging its way effortlessly through the valley below.
Next along this drive is the early warning station, RAF Fylingdales nestled amid the stark terrain of the moors hillside. In reality it’s a huge, pyramid shaped radar, but in my mind it will always be the three massive golf balls that loomed on the hillside when I was a child.
Not long after Fylingdales, is the drive down into the village of Sleights. This part of the moorland road is called Blue Bank where on a clear day, the views are unrivalled. Truly great British countryside.
If you stop and take a moment, you can hear nothing but a stillness that calls to you — the quiet of the moors, the farmlands and fields of colour and the forests.
Then all of a sudden I see them. The twinkling lights of homes, farms, pubs, streets and shops that seem to light the way in to Whitby. And, the dramatic silhouette of the abbey … and my heart soars.
I’m home.
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It’s here that I wonder if other car passengers feel the same as I do.
Do they appreciate this drive?
Do they ever stop to take in the absolute wild and calm beauty that envelopes them on this rural moorland road?
Do they know just how poignant it is for me? How much I really treasure this drive? And, how when I’m missing it most, I can just close my eyes and be transported there again. It’s my escape — this wonderful memory that I’m steadfastly holding on to because in reality, I just never know when I’ll see it again.
See, I’m not crazy. Right?
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I am beyond thrilled to have made it as a finalist in the first ever UK mummy and daddy blog awards aka the MADS and would love, love, love it if you would please vote for me here. Thanks!
I am proud to say I too can do that drive with my eyes open or closed. It is part of my favorite place in the whole world and I guess you would regognise this post’s secret place then http://themadhouse-themadhouse.blogspot.com/2010/05/gallery-hidden-places-secret-britain.html
When I first met my hubby (at Uni in Manchester) he regularly went up to the moors to just sit and think. When we started going out we would take drives up there together. We have spent hours in the car talking. I love long drives. On my own I can think, in company we can talk.
I love this post~! I love your use of words and I can almost see it, but not as I’ve never been. It reads like a good book!
I’ve never been there, well I have, today. You took me there and now I’d love to see the place with my own eyes too.
Beautiful description
I happen to have driven the route you were describing. Well I was drive actually, but I just wanted to add that I loved it too. I often dream myself away to a walk I have done 1000000′s of times, it just recharges me!
This is beautiful. Not only can I clearly see the world you describe, I can also relate to this idea of visualising and driving through a familiar, loved landscape. I can imagine a lot of people would relate to this post.
It’s hard to keep your eyes on the road when driving past the Hole of Horcom, I’m surprised I’ve never crashed gawping at it. Lovely blog, I can see this anytime, so you made me feel rather guilty
Get yourself over and we’ll drive over the Moors again to go to the shops in York.
What a beautifully crafted description. It brought back so many memories to me because I was at the University of Hull and my partner for much of the time I was there had friends who lived on the North York Moors. Now I yearn to revisit the area again after reading your post. The nearest I get to it is Ampleforth where we go to visit friends. Ojala.
I have a road that takes me back to FRance. I can close my eyes & see it & feel the warmth!
Aha finally I found you again. I quit writing on my old blog ages ago and they just deleted it which meant I lost all my links which I used to use to go and read peoples blogs…such as yours.
That’ll teach me to be a slack blogger eh?