The title may not convey the same glamour and decadence as Patsy Galant’s hit song From New York to L.A., but it serves its purpose. I opted for this title rather than A Tale of Two Cities, primarily because Whitby does not have city status. A stickler for details.
If you have not deduced the topic of this post just yet, all will be revealed, with a swirl of my cloak and a beguiling smile…
The blood appeared to drain from my face this morning when I learned that I had missed the first performance of Dracula – The Musical to be held in Bulgaria, right here in Varna.
It was from the port of Varna that Count Dracula set sail on his journey to England. He stowed away on the Russian schooner Demeter, along with 50 wooden cases of Transylvanian soil. I don’t think they were destined for a garden centre. It was a treacherous journey, passing from the Black Sea through the Bosphorus to the Meditteranean, then to the Atlantic and English Channel (shrouded in fog at the time), before being wrecked and washed ashore at Whitby Bay. Strangely, the crew had disappeared and the captain’s dead body was found tied to the mast.
I too have made this journey. Well, not in quite such a dramatic style, and not all in one go. My journeys involved taking flights with Wizz Air and some long drives on the A1. No soil was involved.
My first visit to Whitby was in 1978 when I was at Hull University. I remember it as a very cold day in February. Who goes to the seaside in February, especially on the North Sea coast? My memories are a bit blurred because they blend with a trip to nearby Robin Hood’s Bay. I am not sure if that was on the same day. In any event, it was icy cold in both places, and I remember eating takeaway fish and chips huddled in a shop doorway. The atmosphere was of neglect and decay, with boarded up shops and peeling paintwork. There is something melancholic and special about seaside towns out of season. I returned a few years later at a more seasonable time.
Apart from the imposing abbey overlooking the town, the most striking thing about Whitby is the way it has embraced its literary history. It really is Gothic Central, with endless souvenir shops and offers of tours with a vampiric theme. Ironically, there are many ways in which to drain the tourists of their money, allbeit they are willing victims.
This is where my alternative title comes in, comparing one town with another. I have visited Varna many times over the past 20 years but it was only earlier this year that I learnt about the vampiric connection. I have yet to find a shop selling Dracula paraphernalia – actually, that would be quite a good name for a shop.
There was also a return journey, when Dracula fled England to return to his castle in Transylvania. He boarded the Russian ship Czarina Catherine at docks on the River Thames, bound for Varna. This was a journey of at least three weeks. His pursuers (including Jonathon Harker and Quincey Morris) decided to intercept him at Varna. They had obviously been influenced by the adverts and let the train take the strain – they caught The Orient Express, a journey of just three days. The train used to stop at Varna between 1883 and 1885, from where passengers would board a steamer for the final leg to what was then Constantinople (modern day Istanbul). Dracula outwitted them and his ship docked in Romania, but he was eventually caught before he could find refuge in his castle.
Postscript:
The photograph is of Port Varna as it is today and not like it must have been when it featured in Bram Stoker’s novel, or when it played a key strategic part for British troops during the Crimean War. But that is another story – a true one, rather than the Gothic fantasy I have written about here.
Sleep well. It is just a story….
Psychologist on the Move 