FlyerTalk Forums - View Single Post - Leeds-Whitby, Yorkshire Coastliner, May 2008
Old Jun 10, 2008, 11:18 am
  #7  
patgarrett
 
Join Date: Sep 2007
Programs: Yorkshire Coastliner
Posts: 1,278
Mrs Poppleton has been in touch again, and informed me she's finished editing the trip report of the second sector on her Yorkshire Coastliner journey, Tadcaster to Malton. I told her that the Flyertalkers are still reeling from the excitement generated by the first part, and that she should wait a few days before so cruelly stealing the glory of the trip reporters so eager to recount their transcontinental excesses in R and J class on the SQ A380. She was adamant that SQ R has got nothing on seat 1A on the top deck of the Coastliner, and insisted I post this as she's still having technical difficulties with the images. She's blaming her computer problems on her grandson Clive, who popped over last week and "spent three hours on Skype wittering on to some trolley dolley in Riga." Since then, Mrs Poppleton informs me, her computer has "been neither use nor ornament!" Hopefully this will be the last we hear from her for a while!

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Good afternoon, Flyertalkers. Mrs Poppleton here again, with the trip report for the second sector, Tadcaster-Malton, of my Coastliner journey from Leeds to Whitby. We arrived at Tadcaster on schedule at 10.30am, and Vernon announced to the passengers that we'd have a 15-minute leg stretch and penny spend. The facilities at the Tadcaster bus station leave a lot to be desired, so I popped into the Spar next door to use the ladies there and to stock up on West Indian Limes, some of my favourite hard-boiled sweets. Here's the Spar, and what a lovely building it is.





I headed straight for the confectionery aisle, and who should I almost knock over but TV's own Bob Carolgees! Bob told me he was on his way to perform that evening at the Royal Opera House in York, and that he'd stopped off at the Spar to pick up a morning paper and some fudge (he too has a sweet tooth!). I couldn't see Spit and Bob told me that he'd had to leave him in the car as he was playing up that morning - he'd even wound down the passenger window just outside Seacroft and cursed at a postman, something to do with a "hacienda"! Bob told me that Spit's on a new medication and that he's a bit volatile at the moment. I asked Bob if he would mind having a picture taken with me, but he politely declined, saying he'd had one too many shandies the night before and didn't feel "too photogenic." I hope you don't mind, Bob, but here's a photo of you anyway, just for my American readers.





Speaking of shandy, Bob's comment reminds me that Tadcaster is the home of John Smith's beer, and is known for its many fine public houses. Whenever I pass through on the Coastliner I'm reminded of my night on the town here with my cousin Barbara in 1953 after Early Mist won the Grand National. I'd won four guineas that afternoon on a 5-2 stake and I blew it all on gin and Guinness. We were absolutely bladdered! I was in a bit of a state although I forget the details, but a week later I received a letter from Black Sheep Brewery telling me I was banned for life from the Royal Oak! I couldn't believe it. I'm told there's still a picture of me behind the bar, fifty-five years later - "Mrs Poppleton: Do not serve this woman!"

After leaving the Spar I still had a few minutes to kill, and I could see Vernon pulling out a second crafty cigarette, so I wandered over to the farmer's field just behind the bus station. Here's a picture of CL843, heading out of the Tadcaster station towards Pickering. I think the driver was Dudley. He always makes good time.




The farmer's field is often empty, but if you're lucky you might catch a glimpse of Trevor, one of Tadcaster's most famous residents. Trevor is a kangaroo, and he's been in the field since the late 1980s. It's a sad story. Trevor's owner, a New Zealander, ran the Wetherby Whaler, a local fish restaurant, but in 1989 he was pursued by the Inland Revenue on tax evasion charges and had to make a hasty return to Coolangatta. QF2 couldn't accommodate Trevor, so he had to remain in Tadcaster. He didn't expect to be orphaned at such a young age, so he made up for his disappointment by committing himself to a strict exercise regimen. This is Trevor:



I couldn't believe my eyes the first time I saw Trevor's biceps. I thought I'd taken one too many Co-proxamols! However, Ashley, the Tadcaster park ranger, assured me that Trevor's diet and lifestyle are very healthy and he's never been tempted by offers of illegal substances as a way of beefing up his upper body. He's a tremendous looking marsupial, and a credit to Tadcaster.

Unfortunately Trevor was nowhere to be seen that morning so I hopped back onto the Coastliner and soon Vernon was back on the A64 and cruising towards Malton. It's only thirty miles from Tadcaster to Malton but that's long enough to enjoy the scenery to either side. I love this part of North Yorkshire. Some of the side-roads look just as attractive as the A64, although it is quite dry at this time of year.



I also noticed some limestone quarrying going on over towards Boroughbridge. I know we need the stone but I do think it spoils the landscape.




Just outside Malton I was surprised to see this National Express coach, supposedly heading to South Shields. Why on earth was it not on the A1? I was also taken aback by the passenger sitting in such close proximity to the driver. Hardly a safe situation for either party, although National Express are known for cutting corners and compromising passenger safety. That's why I always use the Coastliner.



We arrived in Malton, on schedule, at 11.20am. Malton has always been a little bit "alternative," ever since the town hosted a prog rock festival in 1961. Apparently some of the imported pharmaceuticals got into the water supply and the locals have been out to lunch ever since. I'll save a full report on Malton for my next installment, but here's a taste of what you can expect to see on the cobbled streets of this lovely Yorkshire town if you ever decide to pay a visit. As we say in this part of the world, "If brains were currants you'd be a plain teacake!"



More from Mrs Poppleton soon. Feel free to send me PMs with your thoughts on the report. I hope you're enjoying reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Bye for now.
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