On Thursday, with the conference finished, we went on a day trip to the coast to see our friend Moira, who lives in the village of Flamborough. It’s a drive of just under 2 hours through the rolling Yorkshire countryside, made vastly more enjoyable by being upgraded by Enterprise Rentals to a Vauxhall Astra GTC sports coupe. I am determined to come back to this area and spend a few days exploring the villages around here. The village names on the signposts are just so tantalising: Buttercrambe, Fridaythorpe, Garton-on-the-Wolds, Nafferton (wouldn’t want to live there!), Sewerby (not there, either), Burton Agnes, Carnaby, Potter Brompton, Scagglethorpe, and perhaps the strangest of them all, Wetwang (a Viking name, I think).
“Flamborough isn’t the prettiest of the Yorkshire villages,” says Moira, but it was still a charming place to walk through, down the curving lanes, past the 12th century church of St Oswald (heavily modified in the 19th century, but still with its square Norman tower) and the poppies in full bloom in the graveyard. So I took a few photos.
Went to the North Star pub for lunch – what a superb place. It’s out on its own down a road leading to the sea and has superb food. Some of you may know that I’m rather a fan of black pudding (no, I’m not being pretentious again, when I was a lad my father was a butcher and so I was well used to eating black pudding, tripe, brains, pig’s trotters, etc) so I’m often keen to try it. The Irish think they’re pretty good at it but I haven’t yet found anything startling there, Scotland produced some pretty good black pudding with scallops, in England I had black pudding spring rolls that were, frankly, a disaster, but at the North Star my black pudding with pork medallions beat the lot of them hands down.