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As a bonus (it's Halloween of course) we arrived in the middle of the annual Whitby Goth weekend, and watched whole families of Goths parading along the seafront, and pale Goth girls being photographed lying on gravestones in the churchyard, which sits high on the bleak hill overlooking the harbour.
It was a strange day: two 50s bikes in the middle of crowds of 80s Goths celebrating a 1900s novel and a 0000s pagan festival.
And I forgot how filthy you get on muddy country tracks with no front fender.