To visit a place where historical actuality becomes legend and fiction becomes part of the reality is a welcome escape from the world of the internet and its stict code of Gradgrind-like scrupulous adherence to the facts. Whitby is a place of stories and nobody can remember which ones are true anymore. Local folk still tell tales of a pale thin emotionless character from a strange foreign land who once washed up in the town for example, and as well as Gwyneth Paltrow filming those scenes from Possession there was Dracula who came to Whitby from Eastern Europe to work in the industrial estate up the hill only to find himself immortalised, again. Rubbing shoulders on a rainy Saturday in the ancient streets with local workers, damp daytrippers and, out of season like lobsters but still glorious, goths, each inhabiting their own distinct reality in the same physical space, a kind of metaphysical version of what ecologists know as niche separation, visitors can decide where they best fit in to the picture but as a bike rider I see the goths with their black outfits, adopted air of grave seriousness whilst wearing a hat and awareness of the disappoval bestowed on them by a certain imagination impaired section of the wider society but determination to carry on doing it anyway and if I have to choose I kind of have a feeling where my affinity lies.



    • northernbike

      Hi Rachel, it’s a great little town and alot of stuff goes on there; the regatta, folk festival, goth weekend, also James Cook served his apprenticeship there and the Endeavour was built in Whitby too

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