Exploring Scarborough

I'm exhausted! I've spent the afternoon roaming the streets of Scarborough, discovering the exciting attractions it holds in store for myself and my potential visitors. Firstly, I should note that the number of pick 'n' mix purveyors I've discovered has gone up to five, one of which is a genuine scoop and weigh shop! Why do you only ever see those at the seaside? Chip shops are too numerous for me to count, and Scarborough seems to have almost as many churches as Cambridge.

In fact I'm quite baffled which church to attend. I've been praying about it quite a bit, because I've decided I don't really want to go "church shopping" - that is to say, attending services at several churches and choosing one on the basis of what I believe will best serve my own needs. I've been thinking a lot about community lately, and I reckon it's rather more important to be involved in a very local church that serves the area I live in. I want my walk with God to be about how I can do stuff for him and focus on others instead of myself. But here's where it gets paradoxical, because in seeking the best church environment in which to serve and worship, I find myself once again "church shopping"!

Going with the community thing, though, I've decided to attend Ebenezer Baptist Church this Sunday. I had seen from the website that they appear to be quite interested in community involvement. Then today I was wandering around looking for the castle, and suddenly felt like it would be a good idea to walk down a particular street, even though it apparently led into a residential area. A couple of minutes later I glimpsed a church-like building. Although I vaguely wondered if it was Ebenezer (it looked sort of baptisty, somehow...), I was astonished when I got there to discover that it actually was! Not only that, but there was someone there - one of the elders, putting a box of books into a car. We had a nice chat. Maybe it was just coincidence, but the combination of finding the place by getting lost and making my second acquaintance in Scarborough (the first was a homeless lady who likes egg sandwiches) gave me that Holy Spirit sort of feeling.

I then had a gleeful gallivant around Peasholm Park, saw the miniature railway, and watched waves crashing into the sea wall and coming up onto the pavement along Royal Albert Drive. Ascending to the castle via a playground I had espied halfway up the hill, I met a boy who laughed with me at my futile attempts to shimmy up the climbing post (this was a good playground!) and did his best to show me how it was supposed to work. I had a good look around the castle itself, reminiscing about childhood visits (I'm sure I was drilled as a Roman Soldier there on one occasion) and delighting in the fact that I could see the bottom of my street from its battlements.

51 hours in, I'm loving being a resident of Scarborough!