In theory the above event was the reason we fetched up in Whitby this weekend, and very jolly it was too, with plenty of these.
Whigmeleeries or whimsical, fanciful ornaments! In fact we were looking for any excuse to re-visit lovely Whitby and also escaping from yet another scary weather forecast. We hoped that sea breezes at the coast might save us from the imminent and possibly life-threatening heat-wave.
Captain James Cook, adopted son of the town, looked out over a misty seascape. Storms were predicted.
These jaw bones are a reminder of the town's whaling history.
The mist cleared - in Whitby there are many things to see and do.
and folky street entertainers.
But we were heading up these steps - oops, fast forward.
We were heading up these steps (all 199) to the ruins of Whitby Abbey.
Blue skies arrived at last, at least for a while...
...and life was sweet.
Or it was until Mr N saw these.
"I always knew Whitby was our spiritual home," he said.