What about Whitby?

If Mother Nature and a deflated cushion had not intervened, the plan for day two of our Yorkshire camping adventure was for us to pitch our tent in a field on a dairy farm (and taking a shower in a cow shed - needless to say, the tent has long since been sold on eBay).

After one night under canvas we arrived at Whitby on the bus from Scarborough and headed straight into the tourist office to take advantage of their bed booking service. During the short bus ride up the coast, the clouds had burnt off, the breeze died down and the spring sunshine felt surprisingly warm.

Whitby is one of England's finest seaside towns, so you can imagine on this sunny royal wedding bank holiday weekend it was bursting at the seams. The woman at the tourist info counter said the town was nearly full and it took a couple of phone calls before finding a spare room. Would we mind paying £30 per person per night for a firm bed, hot water, cooked breakfast and a Teasmade? At this stage of our camping trip we would have sold a kidney to share a pillow that didn't require a foot pump and patching-up kit, so ten minutes later we were making ourselves at home in the top floor en-suite at the 4-star Captains Lodge B&B. Sorry Beacon Farm, maybe in another life!

'Don't open your windows too far,' our hostess warned us. 'Otherwise a gull is likely to fly in.' We cautiously cracked the window open a smidgen and admired the view of the church tower across the street. We were in the Georgian 'new town' section of town on the west bank, within stumbling distance of pubs and eateries.

Back downhill and on the quayside, it wasn't long before we had our hands around a steaming box of breaded fish, mushy peas and thick-cut chips doused in vinegar from the world-famous Magpie Cafe. The portions were so huge that we fed the last of our chips to the gulls flying past, who were nimble enough to catch the chips in mid-air. Better to feed them now before they came pecking at our window later!

Unlike Scarborough, which felt tired and rundown, Whitby was busy and prosperous. For a fishing port and seaside resort of about 13,000 people there is plenty to see and enjoy. The town straddles the River Esk where it meets the North Sea. Moored along the riverbanks (or 'quayside') are dozens of fishing boats, pleasure craft and sightseeing vessels all overlooked by ample pubs, cafes, yacht clubs plus seaside amusements like a funfair and concert hall. In its heyday Whitby was known for its whalers and shipbuilders: this is where local lad Captain Cook's HMS Endeavour was built.

The river is lined by steep cliffs, with most of the town on the west bank, including the half-built Royal Crescent when the town became a popular spa resort for Georgians wanting to 'take the waters' from the local medicinal springs. Atop the east bank is a church, behind which stand the magnificent ruins of Whitby Abbey. This part of town was famously described by Bram Stoker as being the spot where Count Dracula arrived in England, which is why Whitby is a place of pilgrimage for the Goth community.

We were booked for four nights at our B&B in Whitby which meant we were perfectly situated for exploring everything the town had to offer as well as striking out for some coastal walks. Click back soon, I took plenty of photos!