‘You can take the man out of Yorkshire, but you can’t take the Yorkshire out of the man.’
This was exactly what I uttered to myself as I stepped off the train at Malton in Yorkshire, amid the North York Moors, breathing in the clean fresh air that soon expelled the soot and grime of the London smog from my lungs.
I was actually here for a weekend, my suit ruffled from leaving straight after work, ready to take part in my latest stag do for a close friend to spend time with him before I
commiserated congratulated him on his upcoming nuptials. He was Yorkshire born and bred and he couldn’t of a better stag weekend than in the middle of nowhere in the North York Moors in a hot tub and watching nature go by. Yes, a hot tub. Really, it wasn’t your typical stag weekend, drinking £1 beers in a dodgy city in the middle of Europe. But this weekend was certainly needed for me. I wanted a relaxing weekend, reconnecting with Yorkshire and saying my ‘t’s’ before words such as ‘t’pub’ or more. I could feel myself drifting towards being a crazy Southerner and I needed to commune with my Yorkshire roots.
Basically, North York Moors could keep me out of trouble. Before, I can tell you in detail what I did. I think I better show you what I need using the many pictures I took (not too many of this handsome creature) and really tell you why I think North York Moors is pretty much amazing:
North York Moors
Fancy going to North York Moors for a weekend to stay out of trouble and embrace the epic Yorkshireness? Just watch this space for a comprehensive write up…