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Yes, in my capacity as a net.goth I went to the last Whitby. Here are my obligatory rants and photographic wibblings for the weekend, which was all in all a bit of a larf. For a quick look at the photos, look at the photo index.
| Friday | Saturday | Sunday | Monday | Tuesday |
The first Whitby-related event that Friday morning was that I overslept. I got up, screamed, and packed in half an hour. Surprisingly, I didn't forget anything too major! I was also carrying a bag of about 45 duck T-shirts to sell at Whitby. I got a lift from Manchester to Whitby courtesy of Chris, packed in a car with David, Vicki, and Dave HOTHL (aka Dave Bastard). It turned out that I had forgotten something major - my Whitby ticket! After a short return to my house, we continued. The journey was long, uneventful and painful for someone as gifted in the leg department as yours truly.
We pulled into Whitby at about 7 o'clock on the Friday night, and I rushed to the Elsinore, lugging my bags, to try and find Russell or Marge, two of my B&B companions, and the ones who knew where it was and had the keys. No sign. Stopped for a pint with Dave HOTHL before heading over to the Little Angel. No sign. Arse. I did run into some incredibly drunken MancGoffs, and so I decided to dump my stuff at their house. The small crew of Manc-people staggered down to the station and up an incredibly irritating incline to the MancGoff house, where I dumped my stuff, said 'Hi' to various people, picked up my pink MancGoff tag, and headed off to the Spa.
This was my first visit to the Spa, and I was not disappointed - it's a truly huge venue, and was well-packed with goths by the time I arrived. Sadly, I didn't catch much of the bands as I was far too busy running around catching up with various acquaintances, nattering incessantly at everyone and still remaining fairly sober. The latter proved to be my downfall, as I suffered a fairly major mope attack towards the end of the night and left with Russell and Marge muttering darkly about getting the train back to Manchester...
I went back to my B&B at the bottom of the Abbey steps, and after a little sorting-out of people's stuff, Russell, Paul and I headed up to the Abbey, where we ran into -bat., Kieran and some Scottish goths on their way down... d'oh! Anyway, we perservered, and were rewarded by the sounds of others making their way to the ruins. The Abbey looks gorgeous at night, but remember to take some candles... provided it's treated with respect, I think it's a great place for the nocturnal goths at Whitby to go for some relaxed conversation, drink (obviously) and general chilling-out. Of the newcomers, Giles wimped out at the walls, but we were confronted by a whole host of mainly Brum-related people, most of whose names I've forgotten, but they're all in this photo, along with Paul and myself in this one.
The hookah was provided, along with some good drink, by a guy called Thibeaux, who is one of the nicest guys that I met all weekend. We spent the night up there, talking about all sorts of stuff, smoking some very good cherry tobacco, drinking, and generally having a great night. By 5am, I'd stopped being a mopey bugger, and decided to persevere with the weekend; I had also vowed not to be sober between now and then!
I woke up fairly early given the lateness of my return, and decided to head off to the Spa with my companions to take in a little light shopping, and to sell some T-shirts. Having gained permission (not being a stallholder), I talked a few people into buying the exclusive wares... I also ran into lots of MancGoffs, had a fair amount of beer (surprise!!!), and then a plan was formulated - we would use the beach outside the Spa as free advertising space! Myself, flook, Carrie, Dave HOTHL and Ian Sturrock trooped down to the beach and promptly drew the word "MancGoff" in big letters. Then, Dave and I being bored, we wrote my webpage URL in the sand (geek: much!), and rounded it off with a picture of a duck. The results can be seen here.
After this, I went back to the MancGoff house to grab my stuff, then off to my B&B to get showered and ready before heading to the Spa for the evening's entertainment. Keeping true to the promise I made at the Abbey, I spent the night compounding my already-tipsy state with large quantities of Jack Daniels. When I was scarcely able to walk (and had incidentally run out of caaash), I wandered round talking to lots of people, stopping only to catch Manuskript. The 'skript are one of my favorite bands, and they delivered a truly storming set, rounded off with (after a little confusion) an excellent cover of the Venus Hunters' "Starburst"... the encore-confusion was clearly too much for Dave HOTHL, as when The Horatii's "Body of the Fish" was played, he thought that Manuskript were still on stage and performing another cover!
I nattered to yet more really lovely people, and generally ran around the lobby of the Spa being very silly in a drunken manner... I *think* that it was around this time that I met Perky Lara, but I'm damned if I can remember - sorry, dearest! Ayway, after the evening's entertainment, we headed back to the B&B, where I grabbed my pre-packed bag o'stuff (vodka, coke, Pringles & Kettle Chips) and headed up to the Abbey with Paul and Joseph. We got as far as the churchyard before being informed that the Abbey was packed with police with large Goth Readjustment Sticks, so I meandered there nattering to people and taking part in Random Photo Wars with various people.
Mysteriously, the churchyard suddenly emptied, and being uninspired to trek to the Abbey, I headed off back to the B&B with Paul and Joseph and a random bloke we'd picked up who insisted telling us about how he wanted to be goth like us by taking off his trousers, and how he wasn't wearing any underwear... on arrival back at the B&B we tried to rid ourselves of him, but he insisted on wedging his foot in the door and I was forced to have sharp words! Little bastard... anyway, I spent the night nattering to Joseph and enjoyed every minute of it :)
Sunday at Whitby is the traditional time for the net.goth meal, where all the people with too much time on their hands and access to Usenet meet up for a meal at Trenchers. I wound up there and sat down to a fish lunch with flook, sitting opposite Alexander and a gang of London net.goths. After this hearty repas, we wandered off to the arcade on the seafront for a competition of Spider Stomp, a game of skill, dexterity and senseless violence to ickle arachnids...
After stomping my ickle heart out, I retired to the Little Angel for a restorative pint. Or seven. I wasn't seen until much later in the evening, when I was staggering a lot more... I popped back to the B&B to change and freshen up, then headed off to the Sexy Sunday at the Metropole for a night of fun and good music.
It being my first Whitby, and being rather drunk by this time, I wasn't quite sure where the Metropole was. As I staggered past the Spa, I happened to chance upon a couple of goths going in what I thought was the correct direction. I lurched drunkenly up to them, and asked them where it was, before forcing them to converse with me by sheer force of alcohol. It turns out that Al and Ilona had moved to Manchester a fortnight before, and didn't know any of the goths or the goth scene there. Given that I was having difficulty walking, I feel I presented MancGoff in a good, honest light for a first impression, and I swapped e-mail addresses before arriving at the Metropole.
At the Metropole, I ran into a few MancGoffs, and flook and I investigated the combination of rhubarb 'n' custard lollies with Guinness (it's a good thing, by the way!). Then we tried to de-skirt Ian, with enough success that he removed his underwear as a disincentive. Foolish boy :) Having molested him more, I moved on to Asher and Hannah, two lovely peeps from London. I did try removing Hannah's skirt with my teeth, and did a remarkably good job of undoing the buckles, until I got to the one obscured by her new corset and was forbidden from dribbling over the latter in my attempt to undo the former... anyway, the music was good at the Metropole, and I was pished enough to hit the dancefloor a couple of times. Definitely fun, and I probably would have hated the 80s night anyhow (shudder...).
After the Sexy Sunday, I went back to the B&B before wandering up to the Abbey with Ian, clutching more crisps, drink and a blanket. The blanket was appropriated by a couple of gothlings who shall go un-named here, who wanted to get up to something intimate among the cold stones away from the crowd and the candles... Lots of people were there, including Mandy. I nattered to lots of people before realising that I was one of the few left, so Ian and I tidied up (picking up the best part of a bottle of Irish vodka that someone had left) and returned to the B&B.
It was now 5am, and I had to vacate the house by 9, so I quickly packed my stuff and decamped with Ian to the MancGoff house, where I collapsed drunkenly and exhaustedly on the sofa, where people took the opportunity to be nasty to me in my sleep... but that's another story (and hopefully one that you, gentle reader, won't find out about!).
Monday was a quiet day for us all; I awoke late morning, and spent much of the day camped in the Elsi, nattering and drinking. In the evening, we decided to go for a curry at the restaurant in the station, so Maiija, Simon, Sabrina, Flook, Mikey, Wolfhound, Q and myself headed off. It turned out that Maiija was a curry virgin, and so she was constantly sampling morsels of everyone's meals. The restaurant was very good - the food was great, and the staff helpful and relaxing.
After our meal, we decided to try a new pub. We found the Wellington near the station, and it's pool tables and jukebox. I was most upset when my selection of Britpop and indie failed to instil ire in my companions, but not as upset as when Sabrina discovered a Sisters track... The landlord was a helpful, friendly guy who did a line in top hats. Sadly, none of them fitted my enormous noggin, but the largest ones did come over Maiija's eyes to rest on her nose for silly photographic moments :) We whiled away the evening drinking and pooling before heading back to bed. By some fluke, I actually got a proper bed to sleep on!!!
I woke up at about 9 o'clock and wandered downstairs, waking up Chris and nattering to him while drinking vodka and coke, to wash down the remnants of last night's doner meat. Eventually first Simon, then [Q] surfaced, and we sat nattering and listening to Radio One while I steadily re-acquainted myself with my Uncle Vladivar :) By the time that everyone was up, time was running short - Simon, Sabrina and Maiija said their farewells, and the remaining MancGoffs (me, flook, Mikey D, Chris and Carrie) went off to Whitby Angling Supplies so people could stock up on squi and other UV thingies.
Carrie and flook nipped off for more caaash, while Mikey, Chris and I went back to the arcades for more Spider-Stomping action only to find the machine out of order! Clearly too many goffik pointyboots had stomped the spiders, and they weren't coming out to suffer! However, we found Whack-A-Croc to satisfy our bloodthirsty lustings, and after a short while Mike had the new high score, with me matching the old one. The Newcastle contingent happened to be passing, and informed us that the next arcade down had an electrocution machine.
Flook and Carrie arrived, and after a few more Croc games we went next door. The electrocution machine was pants, but we found... Spider Stomp Deluxe - oh, fortune was smiling on us! This game was a little groovier, and flook actually managed to win! I retired to the Little Angel for a last pint of Guinness, accompanied by flook and Mike, while Carrie and Chris went off to pack... then I went to MancGoff central, gathered my stuff and drove off, leaving flook and Mike to have another day of drinking :)
Driving out of Whitby, I felt rather sad that it was all over... my first Whitby had been a damn fine one. I'd had a great time, listened to some groovy music, spent far too much money on beer, and met some really great people, as well as had some of those Life Enriching Experiences. Spending nights up at the Abbey, open to the stars, in the candlelight, is definitely an experience I'm looking forward to repeating, and Saturday morning, standing on the cliffs past all the safety ropes, looking down a 60 foot drop onto rocks was quite exhilarating too...
After some excellent navigation to Leeds, I fell asleep and woke up on a completely different road to any I'd considered... returned home to a thick cloud of chemical-looking smoke from Salford way, said fond farewells to Chris and Carrie, and stepped back into the Real World, still pissed, still on a high from a great weekend. The free Cardigans tickets that I'd blagged from Alexa (cheers!) were waiting on my doormat, there was a plethora of phone messages, and I had a hundred stories to tell my housemates...
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