The Hunt for Hi! LIines

1. WHITBY

Eric Bitheway was embarking on his first official assignment for
Welcome to Yorkshire, using the Bus Pass they had so generously provided.
His instructions were...
‘Find the H!Line in Whitby and report back.’

Eric was excited that at last his dreams had come true. For years their existence was denied and he had been rebuffed at every turn but now, thanks to his persistence, and the help of Clare Balding, here he was searching for H!Lines.

It was a pleasant journey on the 840 Coastliner from Leeds to Whitby that proudly claimed to be ‘The most scenic bus route in the UK’. It even had a running commentary as it approached points of interest.

Well, the scenic bit was true once you reached York thought Eric, who had managed to grab a seat upstairs at the front. He was enjoying his ham and lettuce sandwich as the pretty chocolate box village of Thornton Le Dale was left behind and the route climbed up onto the North York Moors, stretched out ahead full of heather and curlews.

He tried to strike up a conversation with the couple seated next to him on the front seats, who were obviously out for a day’s walking, but in the middle of him explaining H!Lines they got up and left the bus at the Hole of Horkum, before he even had time to bring out his petition.

He looked around for more possible converts but everyone was enjoying the scenery, so he did too.

The totally out of context concrete Toblerone of RAF Fylingdales, busy listening to Russia, reared out of the landscape before they left the main road and detoured to Goathland. A steam engine of the North Yorkshire Moors Railway sat in the station, patiently sighing to itself, awaiting the signal to leave for Pickering with its coachloads of excited passengers. The on board commentary reminded passengers this was the station used for Hogwarts in the Harry Potter films and had advised ‘so get your cameras ready’. Cameras were ready and they clicked away.

Back on the busy main road there was a first sight of the sea as the bus started down the long bank towards the coast. Eric was tempted to shout, “I saw it first, I win sixpence!” but didn’t. He was last off as the bus decanted it’s cargo at the harbour and passengers headed off across the swing bridge or turned left towards the fish & chip shops and Amusement Arcades.

This is it, decided Eric. He was sitting on a small bench at the top of the steep 199 steps that lead from the busy cobbled street, full of shops selling Whitby jet and other souvenirs, up to the Churchyard. This was definitely a H!Line. Below was all noise and chatter, but from here people wandered off around the gravestones, looked out over the river and the pantiled roofs of the town to the Captain Cook Memorial statue or walked out to the windswept viewpoint across the North Sea with a brief Hello or a nod to those heading downwards. It was probably also because folk were out of breath after climbing the steps.

Eric sat for a while wondering if this was a good place to bring out his petition when he heard a loud American voice proclaim Hi! and two young men sat down beside him.

“Hi!, said one, are you a local by any chance?”

Eric nodded, well he was a Yorkshireman so he was as good as...

“Beautiful day isn’t it? I’m Randy and this is Scott.”

“Hello, I’m Eric and I’m definitely not randy.”

Randy looked blankly at Eric until Scott pitched in. “He means his name is Randy not that he is randy.”

“Just joking, it’s the English sense of humour, Eric Bitheway.” he held out his hand.

“Good to meet you, we’re from New York City by the way.”

“Oh please call me Eric.” More blank looks.

Eric was tempted to mention that he believed New York had a High Line and was about to launch into his passionate introduction to English H!lines when he thought better of it.

Instead he smiled, that could wait till later. “Well I hope you’ll find time to visit Old York while you’re here.”

“OK yeah! Been there, done that, Wednesday I think that was, wasn’t it Scott?”

Scott nodded in agreement and chewed a smile at Eric. “Saw the big church, the old wall you’re rebuilding and that tiny shopping Mall, the Shambles wasn’t it?”

Randy nodded. “Yep, and today’s Thursday so it’s Whitby, a very important point on our tour.”

“Oh really and why is that. Do you like fish and chips?”

“We’re members of the USA Bram Stoker Appreciation Society, and we’re here on a mission.”

“Is it to boldly go?”

“What?”

“Are you exploring strange new worlds, or should I say old worlds?”

“Well, we’ve come a long way and while it’s amusing to see your quaint little country we’re really here to find Dracula’s grave.”

“Quaint? You mean the cradle of your United States is quaint?”

“Whatever, anyway, we’ve been sponsored by the Society and this is the most exciting part of our trip. Do you know where it is?”

Eric rose from the bench and was about to ... when he stopped and nodded. He suddenly felt quite mischievous, which was unusual for him, must have been the heat. Quaint! He’d give them quaint. A quaint sense of humour.

“Yes, I can show you if you like but I have to warn you it may not be what you expect. Follow me.”

Leading the way between the gravestones Eric began to explain. Did they appreciate that vampires could only be killed by a stake through the heart? They nodded. Did they also appreciate that the only way to prevent their reincarnation was to burn the body? They nodded. Did they also appreciate that Dracula was gay?

Travis and Scott glanced at each other but continued to follow Eric as he led them on a winding route to the far side of the graveyard where a lone tree stood against the wall.

“To be sure he would never again threaten innocent young women, or men, Dracula was cremated right here at the Abbey and the remains were buried in what was then the Monks’ allotment. During landscaping work, when English Heritage took over the site, this apple tree was carefully preserved. Because under here, deep among the roots are Dracula’s ashes. What most people are ignorant of is the fact that Bram Stoker’s given name was Bramley, but it was shortened to Bram so it would fit on the book cover better.”

“Wow, that makes sense dude, and it sounds better too.”

“Yep, bet no-one in NY knows that.”

Eric smiled.

“Even here not a lot of people know that.

You’ll note there are no signs. This is because only a few people, such as me, are entrusted with this information. You are very privileged to be here. I’m a member of English Heritage and we don’t want hordes of people coming along, desecrating such an important historic spot. ”

The young Americans stood for a while gazing at the tree, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah that would be really bad, like people visiting LA and laughing at the muscle men at Venice Beach.”

It was Eric’s turn to look blank.

“I can feel him. It’s a really strong feeling.”

“Yeah, spooky, like he’s here with us.”

“Wait till we tell the guys when we get back. The next monthly meeting is going to be a wow!”

“A real Wow!”

“Say dude, could you take a picture of us, as like evidence?”

“Of course, just stand either side of the tree, hold hands and smile. But first, hold these and sign this.”

After signing Eric’s petition Scott handed over his camera. The event was then preserved for eternity, and also the USA Bram Stoker Appreciation Society.

It was around three weeks later Eric@thehiline.uk received an email.

It said ‘Hi! Mr. Eric,’and attached was a picture of Randy and Scott standing on a low dais in front of a small crowd of people and a huge banner proclaiming The USA Bram Stoker Society,
New York Chapter Awards Dinner 2022.

Each of them proudly held aloft an apple, a Bramley apple.

Sitting in his favourite armchair at Wuthering Bottoms Eric was delighted and Emily the cat got extra treats that evening.

Come back soon and see where Eric visits next in his quest.

“Financed by Welcome to Yorkshire”