One morning I intended to go for a walk in the northern part of the Peak District, but the forecast was for fog most of the day so I decided to go a bit further afield to the North Yorkshire Moors… only to find them equally as foggy. The forecast on the radio mentioned that the coast was expected to clear soon, so having been fogged out on unfamiliar trails but having travelled too far to turn back, I headed east to the coast and found myself in Scarborough. While looking for a place to park I caught sight of the castle on a headland over the city and decided I might as well have a look.
It has been over 20 years since I saw my first ruined castle, and although I would be hard pressed to recall the details of all of those I have seen in the intervening years, I still enjoy visiting them. Ruins have a way of holding time at bay; they are generally frozen in plan if not in material to the situation at their end, and with a little knowledgeable imagination can be brought back into being. Scarborough was no exception, particularly as waves of fog rolled across the empty expanses of the headland it once protected.