IN HIGH SPIRITS
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled through the cobbled streets of the once sleepy seaside town and whipped the waves into a frenzy as the mist rolled into the town and began to take on the form of a rather ominous coach and horses.
The cry of some unidentified beast rose in the distance, chilling the bones of all who had the misfortune to hear it. Unable to sleep, I tossed and turned in my caravan and pulled the covers tighter around me.
Was that a tap at the window? I dared not open my eyes for fear of finding the dark, skeletal figure lurking nearby was not just in my imagination. And again the cry of the beast, now mingled with the clatter of horses’ hooves on cobblestones...
Sorry – I’ve definitely been spending too long thinking about Dracula and the many other spooky legends and ghosts that I learned about during a recent Ghost Walk around the wonderful town of Whitby.
Heading for the moors
We had arrived the previous day, having broken our journey from Buckinghamshire with a meal at the Carpenters Arms pub in Dale Abbey, just outside Nottingham.
This friendly local pub was a convenient halfway rest stop on our way to
