Sat at Captain Cook's Monument on Easby Moor admiring the Vale of Cleveland and mulled over one of my latest obsessions - the prehistoric significance of the Cleveland Dyke.
The moor was invaded by orienteers having great fun, running around all over the shop wearing bizarre lycra pyjamas - it was far too hot for such nonsense .
There was also a gadgie with a paraglider who kept jumping off the scarp only to land a minute or two later at the bottom of the bank. It all looked too much like hard work to me so I retired to a local pub and got wasted on Everards & grilled seabass.
All in all a lovely time,
thanks for askin'
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