Not wishing to to be seen as conservative, the end of the week saw me head due North to visit my sit my Mother in Scarborough.
The north East Coast of Yorkshire is a hidden treasure, with Whitby, Scarborough and Filey the real gems.
Each deserve its own blog space so this week its Scarborough.
To get there from where I live in Beverley, you have to cycle about 50 miles.
Travelling north over the Yorkshire wolds, into the Vale of York and onwards to the foot hills of the North Yorkshire Moors.
Scarborough is 20 miles south of Robin Hoods Bay where I went to Boarding School (Fyling Hall School) and my spiritual home.
Each day I would wake up and look out onto the harsh North Sea.
Not the picture post card tropical scene that we often think of when we look for that exotic holiday destination.
But the moody one, full of hidden scars, ripping tides, and weather as fickle as a politician.
The very sea that Capt Cook also looked upon as a child from his Whitby home and the resting place of thousand of wrecks including ships of the Spanish Armada.
In my teenage years I often wondered if Simon and Garfunkel had ever visited this place.
The way they sang their well know 'Scarborough Fair', I was convinced that they must have.
My Mother lives on a road that leads up to the famous Scarborough Castle. Her road is called Castlegate, this changes into the amply named 'Paradise' at the top of the Hill, where there is situated the beautiful St Marys church. My mother tells us all that situated where she is, she is half way to paradise. I think I agree with her.