Two Weeks Later: The Chronicles of Filey Revelry
Greetings, dear readers! Apologies for our brief hiatus; we’ve been off the grid, soaking up the whimsy of Filey, a hidden gem on England’s East Coast. Picture this: a weekend filled with laughter, camaraderie, and a dash of unexpected shower drama. Welcome to our Filey fiesta!
The Filey Fling: Where Quaint Meets Quirky
Filey, snuggled between Whitby and Scarborough, served as the backdrop for our escapade. Our rendezvous point? The Primrose Valley Caravan Park, where our friends (or shall we say, family?), Warren and Dawn, greeted us with open arms and a well-stocked caravan bar.
Caravan Chronicles: Lazy Days and Liquid Sunsets
Friday night kicked off with warmth and a hint of mischief. Bottles clinked, laughter echoed, and the caravan became our sanctuary. Saturday, a day designed for decadent laziness, saw the boys make a splash in the pool while the rest of us ventured into Filey for provisions. An afternoon meander around the caravan park, a rendezvous at the owners lounge (complete with golf course views), and two bottles of wine later, we found ourselves back at the caravan for a culinary encore—pulled beef, devoured faster than a secret stash of chocolates.
Hermit Crabs and Waterfalls: Sunday’s Sojourns Beyond Filey
Sunday was our day of exploration. First stop: Robin Hood Bay, where the boys embarked on a crab-hunting expedition amidst the exposed rocks. Next up, Goathland, the village of ITV’s Heartbeat fame, or as locals know it, Aidensfield. A jaunt to Mallyan Spout, a 60-foot waterfall, proved both majestic and leg-day inducing. Post-walk, a pint in Levisham set the stage for a chippy tea in Thornton Le Dale. Alas, a shattered shower screen awaited us at the caravan, adding an unexpected twist to our evening tale.
Scarborough Shuffle: Monday’s Coastal Capers
Bank Holiday Monday ushered us to Scarborough. While the boys conquered the skate park, the adults embarked on a leisurely stroll to a seaside pub. A cruel twist of fate (or responsible driving) limited me to a mere shandy, but hey, it was a fine pub nonetheless.
Homeward Bound: Traffic and Triumphs
The journey home, a saga in itself. A planned two-hour drive morphed into a 3.5-hour odyssey, courtesy of traffic near Stamford Bridge. Yet, fatigue bowed to fond memories as we reminisced about our Filey frolic in the sun.
And now, as promised, a peek into this week’s adventures lies below the picturesque remnants of our Filey escapade.
