Fishburn Park v Whitby Fishermen’s Society
Whitby Town v Matlock Town
An opportunity for a double header in Whitby, including the 'El Fishico' town derby, plus the plethora of 'not very convenient but interesting nevertheless' ways to get there, a luxury of Guide pubs, plus some quirky looking attractions, saw me heading for a day out in the far reaches of Yorkshire.
An action packed itinerary...
...into Leeds.
For a TransPennine Express service bound for Scarborough.
Passing through York and a kettle fest on the mains with a B12 in the headshunt at Holgate, and then this 8F appearing to be on a rake of Freightliner HHA waggons, but is actually in the back road. That’s a guaranteed tripling of trespass incidents today then.
We took the Scarborough branch, which vies with Westbury to Salisbury as the most boring bit of railway in Britain but at least you are actually going somewhere. The undisputed champion of most boring bit of railway in Britain is Ayr to Stranraer, dull, featureless, uninhabited flatlands, and the reward for enduring it is ending up in Stranraer.
Fortunately, I was able to break the monotony by alighting at Malton.
It was across the station forecourt to the beating heart of the Transdev Leeds-York-Scarborough/Whitby 'Coastliner' bus operation.
My bird to freedom was in the form of a Volvo B9TL chassis and Wright Eclipse Gemini body. Rather annoyingly, this was a dud as I’d had it to travel between games at Dringhouses and Tadcaster Magnets last summer.
The route takes in 'Flamingo Land' which is a holiday park for people who already live in caravans. Every other person in the queue was an early pubescent teenager, in branded waterproofs, and half-heartedly boasting about the hangover they were allegedly nursing.
As is compulsory with any bus journey in North Yorkshire, there were a fleet of caravans sat in lay bys, just waiting to pull out right in front of any public transport, and then to weave along erratically at 25 mph for the duration of the journey.
I was off at Pickering.
Forgoing the opportunity to buy a Sidewinder TAC-30.
Instead, I was heading here.
Sat in the platform was some posturing kettle.
You can boil water and attract pensioners. So what, so can Whetherspoons.
The North Yorkshire Moors railway is one of the 'big five' steam lines in the UK. It was reopened in 1973 and has been setting fire to rare heather species ever since.
As ever, a trip on a steam railway drove me to early alcoholism, through a combination of the decent selection of ales available, the tediously slow progress of the train, and the nauseating company of screaming kids and part time cranks. It was almost with relief I received a call about a fatality at Starbeck, and a graphic description of the cadaver.
First stop was Goathland which is where Heartbeat was filmed. This was less a period TV drama, and more a government trap to identify the laziest and most unimaginative children in Britain, as they were the ones who bought the Heartbeat soundtrack CD for Mother’s Day.
After Grosmount, the steam railway actually runs on the Network Rail branch to Whitby. Due to run round constraints at the terminus, the train runs with the boiler making the right noises at the front...
...but a diesel has been hooked on at the back and does the work.
It is a good job I don’t have children, as I could possibly have missed large chunks of their upbringing in the time it takes to do the 24 miles to Whitby. But arrive we eventually did.
However, I was across the road for the first of the seven guide pubs.
Appropriate wall tiling at the station Inn was accompanied by an equally appropriate Whitby - Jet Black porter.
Moving on to the riverside Dolphin, which had a tragic offering of the standard Marsden sticks, so it was flagged.
Next up was the Board Inn, which was moderately better Theakston's tie.
A house brew Lightfoot sufficed.
With the other pubs not opening until midday, it was instead time to hit the tourist trail. Whitby is where Bram Stoker got the inspiration to write about Dracula, and invent the Goth movement. Stoker was writing a novel about Austrian vampires, where a chance visit to Whitby saw him engulfed in the world of ship wrecks, ruined castles, caves, devil dogs and Fields of the Nephilim B-sides. The town has chosen to immortalise this great literacy masterpiece with 'The Dracula Experience' which promised to give 'a unique tour through the Dracula story and the connection to Whitby. Using animated scenes, electronic special effects and live actors'.
The reality was that it was like the Swindon branch of Matalan with only the emergency lighting turned on.
So what next for some Whitby culture? Weel, the whaling industry took off in Whitby because the plentiful supply of quality local timber meant the town gained a reputation for high quality boat building. This was combined with the long distance nautical expertise of visiting Nordic sailors, meant it was in prime position to become the UK centre for whaling, with long haul voyages to Greenland being the norm. Records show that the fleet landed into Whitby almost 3,000 whales, over 25,000 seals, and a rather more precise, 55 polar bears. The town marks its triumphant butchery of endangered species with an archway made from the jawbone of a bowhead whale, expertly encrusted in a layer of seagull shit, which in turn has gone green. It's how Shamu would have wanted to be remembered.
If you were to ask me my favourite three Cook's, they would be:-
3) Roger - Made a career of looking like an older, fatter Ray Mears, whilst door stepping people from Romford who ran shonky mail order dietary supplement outfits.
2) Alastair - Doesn't sweat whilst scoring as many as 28 runs for England. Born in Dursley where the lawn mower was invented.
1) Garry - Invented Manchester City and the concept of ignoring dubious Middle Eastern humanitarian practices in lieu of being able to buy Wilfred Bony.
However, Whitby has their own; James. Now, Wikipedia lists no less than 21 famous James Cooks, so just in case you are thinking of the character from Skins, or the bloke who played five times for Grimsby in 1922, instead we are refering to the British explorer, navigator, cartographer, and captain in the Royal Navy. He was born in Middlesbrough but by his teenage years was living on the coast at Slaithes. It was whilst here that he decided to go travelling, but rather than bar work and foam parties, instead decided to win the Seven Years War, Map the Pacific Ocean, capture the Fortress of Louisbourg from the French, be the first person to circumnavigate New Zealand, thus proving the world was not flat. Yeah, but no naked bungee jump.
He is perhaps the only person I have ever heard of to be killed whilst trying to kidnap the King of Hawaii. Well, better than choking to death on a Werthers Original whilst watching countdown.
He is immortalised by having a hospital in Middlesbrough named after him. This is guarded at all times, by people in Lonsdale shell suits, chain smoking, lest an migrant ever be admitted for medical assistance.
Anyway, here is a statue of him, encrusted in green seagull shit.
I'd considered having a look at the beach, but it looked cold and uninviting. Even for Whitby. In April.
So it was instead to the next GBG offering.
Where my pint of Firebrick - Pagan Queen* was accompanied by perhaps the greatest pub reading ever.
*it was only a 6X pint glass. If I actually had to endure a pint of Wiltshire canal water, I'd have walked straight out.
Next move was back to the rather ornate station, rather overstated for four trains a day.
Intermodal transport at its best?
The reqason for my presence was the on-site Waiting Room micro pub. This can get busy if more than three people are in attendance, which is a shame as it is such a great venue. However, the masses were yet to arrive, so I was able to enjoy a Reedley Hallows - Griffin IPA.
I'd searched Google for a cheese shop in Whitby. This was the closest match. It took me a while to discover the link.
So instead it was on to the next Guide conquer, the Black Horse.
This was very promising. If only it said 'and dog owners are all cunts so you can fuck off as well'.
But I did get to sample the most wonderful 'Yapas', which apparently is a Yorkshire Tapas portmanteau. So here is the cheese board, almost certainly whatever Shepherds Purse are knocking out wholesale, but still a decent offering.
The walk onwards took me along the harbour, with a one quarter replica of Captain Cook's 'Endeavour' arriving. I wouldn't fancy any time on this to become the first European vessel to make landfall on the east coast of Australia, whilst also being made a scapegoat for the end of Kevin Pietersen's Engalnd career.
It was an attempt at some more culture, but the Captain Cook museum was shut.
So instead it was across the road to the next guide pub which at least was suitably named, even if it was dog friendly. Stinking crutches for the socially inept.
Then up the hill to the outskirts of town.
To here.
Sponsored players cars, North Riding league version.
An open pair of side gates lured passers by into the enchanted world of step 11 football.
To an almost exact replica of the school in Gregory's Girl.
With the players trudging their way from the changing rooms to the theatre of dreams.
Fishburn Park 3 v Whitby Fishermen’s Society 0, Macmillan Bowl - Semi Final
Fishburn Park is an area of Whitby adjacent to the station, hence the clubs nickname of 'the railway' and the appearance of Stephenson's rocket on their crest. They were founded post-war in 1947, and played in the Scarborough and District league before progressing to the Teeside league which morphed into the North Riding League over the summer.
Whitby Fishermens society is, well, a society of fishermen from Whitby. Although it does function as a business co-operate (I was disappointed to find their 'ice society' buys ice to keep fish chilled, rather than training North Yorkshire's next Torvill and Dean), the main activity is a social club in the centre of town. They formed a football club in 1975 and previously played in the Scarborough and District Saturday League (the only time I've seen them play before was at the wonderfully named Falsgrave Pirates) before joining the newly formed North Riding League this season. They seem to have great confusion with their name, as seemingly every mention has a different spelling of Fishermens/Fishermans/Fishermen's/Fisherman's.
The pitch is located at the back of the school and is a separate facility. It is railed off and with dug outs, which is a higher standard than is actually required in the league.
The visitors were warming up at the far end, in the time honoured fashion of hammering shots at the keeper from a few yards out.
It was being undertaken with a variety of success, this shot being completely shanked and heading off towards Ruswarp.
The teams lined up for the usual formalities. The ground is located high above the town and gives excellent views down the Esk Valley and over the North Yorkshire Moors.
And in the pleasant surroundings, we got underway.
Being a local derby, it was quite a combative start to the game. Here, one of the Fishermen has just broken a Fishburn player in half and has been booked for his efforts.
The Fishburn manager seemed delighted "Just what we wanted, he'll have to be careful for the rest of the game now", although his left winger, who was picking the defender's studs out of his thigh bone, seemed less enamoured to be part of this master plan.
The free kick was swung in and in a rather strange scenario, two forwards challenged each other for the ball without any defenders in the vicinity, and one of them was victorious in heading it into the near corner.
The North Riding Billy Bean celebrates the first success of his masterplan.
I then settled down to watch my true passion in the game; huge skyward punts.
This one was of such height...
...I managed to cover two sides of the ground before it landed. Probably.
I'd like to think that this bloke was scoring the punts for height and unnecessaryness, but he was probably a referee's assessor or providing stats for the Far Eastern spot fixing market.
A bloke with 'Team Whitby' written on his arse watches so more high ball action.
The visiting side were adopting another favoured tactic of mine, the school play ground style of everyone just running round after the ball. Here five of the Fishermen descend on a short pass that is just returning from the upper thermosphere.
Pleasingly, there was a late contender for @keepers_towel of the season from the visiting custodian.
The home keepers offering being slightly more mundane.
There was a decent crowd for the local derby.
Why are dogs at football matches never actually watching the game? Twats.
Another thing I am of a fan of at grounds is when the railings go in all odd angles because it saves having to cut them to size. Brockenhurst are the champions of this but there was a good effort here as well.
The presence of the remains of a children's slide being a bit more unexplained.
Fishburn added a second goal.
They went onto score another, the game finishing 3-0.
I hurried off to my next game, with the floodlights being viewed from afar. Unfortunately a two mile walk and a bloody big river separated me from it.
Rather than dropping back into town, I instead headed onto the bypass, which crosses the valley by virtue of a bridge. Looking down into the station, with the next steam train in the platform.
At the far end of the bridge is Caedmon College, which is where Whitby Fishermen play some of their games. A bloke in a mobility scooter takes his dog for a 'walk'.
Regretfully, I wasn't staying the night, otherwise it would have definitely been here.
Instead, I was heading for here.
Whitby Town 0 v Matlock Town 3, Evo-Stik Northern Premier League, Premier Division
Whitby have a long history, being formed in 1880 as Streaneshalch before changing to the equally exotic Whitby Church Temperance, and then the somewhat duller Whitby FC. At first they played friendly fixtures and had riots with Scarborough, the latter seeing the death of the young Whitby player Albert Drabble, who has perhaps the most northern sounding name possible. They then dropped in and out of the Northern league, as travel costs caused issues, before a merger of a number of local clubs in the 1920s saw the formation of Whitby United, who became Whitby Town in the 1940s. A seventy year stint in the Northern League ended in the 1990s with promotion to the Northern Premier League, the first division being won at the first attempt and they have been in the NPL premier ever since. They won the Vase in 1996.
Matlock I've covered a few times. This was my introduction to them when I saw them at Ashton last season, I don't think much has changed. "Matlock is the county town of Derbyshire, and these days is like an inland Skegness, full of bikers, arcades, and people from Nottingham drinking Strongbow in Wetherspoons. The football club were formed in 1878, playing in the Central Alliance, the Midland Counties League before reaching the Northern Premier League in the 1970s, where they have been since."
The Turnbull Road ground has been used for football since the 1890s, but the pitch has moved around a lot as housing has encased the ground. Its present form dates from the 1920s, where problems with sharing the site with the cricket club, saw a local ship owner buy the club a dedicated pitch.
The ground is dominated by the main stand which dates from the 1990s. I can remember it winning a load of Groundtastic awards at the time which I found surprising as it is hardly a thing of beauty, and the very high roof doesn't give much cover when it rains.
On the opposite side is a covered terrace which dates from the 1950s.
The ground is situated high up in the northern part of the town, and is hemmed in by housing and also the large sea front hotels.
Parts of the pitch were in a right state, with one corner being particularly water logged, with sand being used to fill the worst areas.
The imminent re-structure of step 4 in non league meant that only one team is being relegated from the NPL Premier. Sutton Coldfield had pretty much been relegated by Christmas, so there have been an enormous amount of dead games in the latter part of the season. This was one such game and no one seemed that bothered when Matlock took the lead mid way through the half.
Nor when they added a second.
Pleasingly, the Matlock keeper added to the towel count for the day.
Surprisingly, Matlock had brought a fair few fans with them who made a bit of noise.
And had a few flags to mark their presence.
There was also a stag do in attendance with the seemingly obligatory fancy dress. You can just imagine the groom being told by the best man
- "Great news about the stag do, I've sorted a weekend by the sea with tickets for the football",
- "That's brilliant, where is it? Marseille?"
- "Er, no, not that exotic"
- "Hmm, Brighton or Bournemouth? That's still premier league"
- "Er, you might want to lower your expectations"
- "Blackpool?"
- "Lower..."
- "Torquay?"
- "Keep going...."
Matlock added a third.
And the game ended.
A wander back into town took me to the bus station for a Middlesbrough-Scarborough "Coastliner". It is scheduled a long stop in Whitby, and I guessed this was in order to give it opportunity to make up time on such a long run. However, when it arrived, the reason was obvious, as hoardes of pensioners disembarked and headed off in all direction to find public toilets, before returning for the rest of the journey. Three our bus journeys and eighty year old bladders are obviously not the best (or driest) of pairings. Anyway, with everyone back on board, we headed off.
Travelling southwards, we diverted off the main road in order to serve Robin Hood's Bay. The narrow road winds dramatically down to sea, with some very picturesque views, which I captured. Only later when I uploaded them to my computer did I notice that somehow I'd managed to miss out the sea from the shot, and instead just had a picture of a field.
An hour later, and with no more crap photography, but quite a lot of pensioners starting to look uncomfortable again, we arrived at journey's end in Scarborough.
It was across the road to the station.
With the luxury of a six car train forming Liverpool bound service.
This was taken on through to Leeds. I know what you have been thinking; "what does the roof of that train look like?", well here it is.
It was over to the bays for a Victoria via Bradford service, with my previous train seen departing.
Which was taken to Sowerby, only for me to then realise that I should have got off at Hebden Bridge for a gig I was going to at the Trades Club.
No comments:
Post a Comment