Saltburn - Bridlington
Introduction
Although I have been picking off sections of the England Coast Path as
and when they are opened, my main focus on this National Trail has been walking
south down the east coast from the Scottish Border in my usual style of
five-day long trips. Last year, year 2 of my project, got me as far as Saltburn
just south of the North Yorkshire border with Co Durham. The natural
continuation was the coast path through the rest of North Yorkshire to and
beyond its border with the East Riding. This would include repeating some of
the Cleveland Way which I had walked some 30 years ago, with the addition of a
new venture beyond Scarborough and Filey.
Sunday 1st September 2024 Saltburn – Runswick Bay
Let the Train Take the Strain
After my bad experience last
February with Sunday morning train travel, I vowed never again to go for an early Sunday morning train from
Macclesfield. An alternative was an express from a different company leaving
from Wilmslow. Jill kindly offered a lift at an ungodly hour and all looked
good with train times. However, on getting to the station, the departures board
showed that my train was seriously delayed. In fact, it had not even left
Crewe. In a panic reminiscent of last February’s dash to Stockport, I pleaded
with Jill to run me into Manchester. She dropped me on Portland Street and I
raced across the city to Victoria Station and my TransPennine train to the
north east. I grabbed a strong coffee, settled into my seat, breathed a huge
sigh of relief whilst hoping that my heart rate would soon return to normal.
The journey across the Pennines was slow and steady but kept to the schedule
and an early arrival into Saltburn, the end of the line.
After a dry morning, the rain
started in earnest as the train ground to a halt. A kind fellow passenger did the honours with my start photographs then it was off past all the cafes and
down the steep road to the seafront. Just beyond a pub, a set of sandy steps
led up onto the cliffs. The grass track provided fast and easy going, so easy
in fact that I missed the big drop into Skinningrove and found myself on a winding
road down into the top end of the village. Trying a short cut back to the
cliffs, I got onto an unused and overgrown path and had to climb over a
barbed-wire fence.
The next section climbed steadily up to the highest point on
the Yorkshire Coast and thence turned gradually downhill before plunging into
the old mining hamlet of Boulby. A metal sculptor featured a miner sitting at a
table overlooked the old workings. The route descended gently into Staithes
crossing a footbridge over the estuary and into busy narrow streets. I would have
loved a pint in an olde-worlde pub but time was not on my side and I needed to
climb quickly up a steep cobbled street between the houses. This continued up a
seemingly endless rocky path onto the clifftop path to Port Mulgrave, Another
mile brought me to a sharp turn inland and a distant view of the hotel. My
accommodation for the night was the first building in Runswick Bay. It was bang
on-route and a perfect end to a very long and hectic day.
Saltburn dep. 12.56, Runswick Bay Hotel arr. 18.31
GPS 13.18 miles in 5hr 34mins 55secs.
Stayed at the Runswick Bay Hotel
and had a super meal of battered cod & chips and mushy peas followed by jam
sponge & custard. The beer was Farmers Blonde (4.0%) from Bradfield Brewery.
Monday 2nd September 2024 Runswick
Bay – Robin Hood’s Bay
No Vampires in Whitby
I had been vaguely conscious of thunder during the night and when I flung back
the hotel room curtains, I was not surprised to see puddle-filled roads. I had requested
an early breakfast so was on my own in the breakfast room. This got me out of
the hotel ahead of the game and I was soon packed and striding down the wet and
slippery road to the beach. The coast path route is across the sands and up a
narrow, eroded gully at the far end. Goodness knows how progress can be made at
high tide. The ascent onto the cliffs begins up the bed of a stream and then
over a narrow wooden footbridge and up an endless set of steps up one side of the
ravine and then curves leftwards to gain the flat ground of the clifftop farmland.
The walk along the edge was generally flat, dry and easy. But a couple of
wooded ravines had to be crossed involving steps and stony drops into narrow
valleys, ‘wykes’ as they are known locally. The last of these wykes was the
steepest but had the bonus of not having a scramble up the other side. The exit
was via a disused miners’ tramway which contoured round the headland into
Sandsend, a busy modern resort just outside Whitby.
After crossing the river via the road bridge, a mile or of promenade and
pavement led past a golf-links. At its far end, a tarmacked cycle-path climbed gradually
to higher ground for the last two miles into Whitby. The town was cover in a
haar mist which reduced any views to a few hundred yards. Eventually a pair of
whale tusks appeared out of the fog and I knew I had arrived at the James Cook
Memorial. At the foot of the next steps was a quiet café that provided me with a
banana and syrup crepe for my lunch. Such was the volume of people dawdling
along the narrow riverside streets that progress was slow and devious until I
came to the bottom of the Abbey Steps. Here the crowds cleared as few were
attempting the 199 steps to the ruined abbey. Pulling out my English Heritage
card, I was able to quickly tour the site and its beautifully kept grounds.
Then I descended through the museum in record time and was back on the path. I
still had 6½ miles to walk.
The afternoon walking was very straightforward with miles of grassy moorland,
a few gentle climbs and just one wyke to negotiate. After passing a lighthouse,
I stopped concentrating on the map and let the miles drift by in the
increasingly improving weather. Before I knew it I was pulling round the last
headland below a coast watch station and climbing up to a lady standing with
bottles of gin and tonic. She explained that she was an American who was
waiting for two of her colleagues who were following me down the coast. I
imagine she had a long wait because I had seen no one for miles around. Within
minutes I was in the outskirts of Robin Hood’s Bay where I met a man who was
planning to camp wild in the area I had just crossed. I enquired of a local the
whereabouts of my hotel and was delighted to learn that I was no more than 400
yards from my night’s accommodation. I had made good time and had the opportunity
of a shower and rest before my meal. A grand day’s walk.
GPS 15.62 miles in 6hrs 44mins 29secs
walking time plus 40 mins in a café in Whitby and looking round the ruined
abbey..
Stayed at the Grosvenor Hotel on
Station Road. Dinner was lamb shank and mashed potatoes followed by sticky
toffee pudding and ice cream. The beers were Landlord (4.3%) from Timothy
Taylor’s and Wainwright (4.3%) from Twaites (now Marston’s plc).
Tuesday 3rd September 2024 Robin
Hood’s Bay – Scarborough
Wykes Galore
Another downhill start this morning with a stop half way down to get a
sandwich for lunch from the post office. The old town was a warren of narrow
streets, not the place for cars although some were still edging their way
around. The coast path exit was not easy to find. I spotted a small sign on a
wall pointing up a steep narrow lane between two cottages. I almost missed a set
of steps rising to the left that led out onto the coast. Just as a good walking
rhythm was reached, the world suddenly dropped away again, this time into
Boggle Hole. Squeezed into the bottom of this ravine was a youth hostel, a café
and a lifeboat station. As usual, the only way was up and it was quite some climb to get out onto
the clifftop path for the second time today, The trek over to Ravenscar was
relatively straight-forward with the overbearing structure of Raven Hall Hotel
dominating the landscape. At the next ‘wyke’, the route turned inland and
climbed gradually up into the village and National Trust cottages. I continued
through the village on the promise of a nice tea shop, but this was closed on
Tuesdays so on I plodded.
The next few miles were easy and pleasant in warm dry conditions. I was
just beginning to recover from the morning’s exertions and getting into my
stride when I arrived at the edge of Hayburn Wyke, a huge declivity across the
path. The descent was on a mixture of steps and slippery rocks and two stream
had to be crossed at the bottom. I found the climb out most taxing as the steep
track weaved up through the trees with the top never appearing to get any
nearer. On the tops once more, I was sorely in need of my egg butty and
searched desperately for a bench to sit on. I passed a group who had brought up
their own picnic chairs and then, to my horror, found the next bench fully
occupied. I had to make do with a wet and rotten fallen branch at the top of
another big drop.
Suitably rested and refreshed, I completed the descent into Cloughton
Wyke and onto the final section of the day. The next two miles were on rather
featureless grassy paths with the ruins of Scarborough Castle in the distance.
The headland at Scalby Ness was rounded and the last steep descent of the day
took me down to a rather tempting pub. But I marched on and into Scarborough
along the very long promenade. My b&b was north of the town centre so I
chose to leave the prom before the castle headland and climb up to the
cliff-top roads. I would postpone the circumnavigation of the castle headland
until tomorrow. The b&b was difficult to get to as all streets seemed to
run north-south and my westerly line was impossible to maintain. But I final
arrived and was made most welcome with a cup of tea and a chat with mine host whilst
reclining on his comfortable sofa. It had been a tough old day and I was
relieved to get a rest before heading out into the fleshpots of Scarborough.
Robin Hood’s Bay dep. 09.21, Scarborough arr.16.32
GPS 14.75 miles in 6hrs 49mins 53secs
walking with 15 mins stop for a butty near Cloughton Wyke.
Stayed at an Airbnb in Moorland
Road, Scarborough. Peter, my host, recommended the Craft Bar on Northway, Here
I enjoyed pints of Aquila.(4.5%) from Saltaire and Hop Session (4.2%) from Brew
York Breweries. On the way home, I called into the Cinnamon restaurant on Dean
Road for a curry. I slept very well.
Wednesday 4th
September 2024 Scarborough
– Reighton
To the End of Filey Brigg
I still had the headland promenade to get round. Finishing early last
night had added a mile to today’s schedule and I duly needed an early start.
There was no breakfast included in my b&b booking so I had no reason to
dally once I was awake. My landlord was out walking the dog as I quietly closed
the door behind me and set off down to the north promenade. I followed this
beneath the castle and round to the harbour and town centre. The sky was grey
and threatening and it was not as warm as it had been all week. Keeping to the
seafront, the route passed the front of the Spa, an impressive building hosting
a café, Farrer’s no less. Rather posh for me but they provided a lovely bacon
sandwich and cappuccino. Suitably breakfasted, I emerge into a drizzle that got
heavier as I climbed the steep path up to the top road.
A short spell on the pavement of this clifftop road then an acorn sign
pointed steeply down through the coastal woodland. A narrowed wooded path ran
along the lower cliffs above Cayton Bay, two miles of deserted beach. Then,
rather gratuitously, the path reared again up to the highest cliffs. From here,
things got a bit easier with rising grassland leading to a narrow trod close to
the very edge. Rambling clubs and parties of other walkers trooped towards me
and passing was awkward. Holiday parks and static caravans covered the coast
hillside and took an age to pass. Finally, the route took off over a golf
course and the cliffs of Filey Brigg came into view. The last mile to the
headland was easy walking slightly downhill to the official end of the
Cleveland Way and ending in the spectacular point of Filey Brigg. All of Filey
Bay opened out ahead and the town was an absolute picture with its white
buildings against a green and wooded coastal hillside.
Reversing my route off the Brigg, I took to the beach as soon as possible
hoping to make good time to a beachside café, But it was not to be, The
promenade was crammed with cheap and cheerful mobile stalls, not endearing to
someone who had recently been in a Spa restaurant. I pushed on along the
seafront and still no coffee shops appeared so I shinned up a set of concrete
steps and carried on down the coast beside a golf course. When this section
ended in another set of steps, this time back down to the beach, I took to the
sand and walked for two miles passed Hunmanby holiday park before mounting the
cliffs once more for the final run-in to Reighton, yet another holiday park. To
catch a bus back into Filey, I continued passed the entrance of this holiday
village and across a field into Watson’s Lane to reach a bus stop on the main
road. I only had ten minutes to wait and a no.12 bus took me back to Filey bus station
from where it was only a short walk to my Airbnb in Queen Street. Here I had a
lovely room and got some good advice as to where the best food and ale could be
found.
Scarborough dep. 08.24, Reighton
Watson’s Lane arr.15.39
GPS 16.41 miles in 6hrs 45mins 52secs
walking time plus 30 mins for breakfast at Farrer’s Bar in Scarborough Spa.
I stayed in a lovely Airbnb at
Bayview in Queen Street. I was directed to the Cobblers Arms in Union Street
where I sat in the snug and drank Harvest Gold (4.2%) from Bradfield and
Marmalade Porter (5.0%) from Wold Top Breweries. I then went over to the Star
in Mitford Street and ordered a steak pudding and chips washed down by a pint
of White Rat (4.0%) an old favourite from Ossett Brewery.
Thursday 5th
September 2024 Reighton – Bridlington
Fog over Flamborough
A lovely breakfast was laid out for me in the morning. My host, Diana,
had taken the dog for a walk and I sat alone helping myself to yoghurt and
toast and lots of tea. It was time to head back to the bus station and take a
bus back to where I had finished walking yesterday. The no.13 went back via the
Holiday Park at Reighton, the entrance of which I had already walked past.
Rather than continuing on to Watson’s Lane, I leapt off the bus at this point
and was, earlier than expected, on my way again on the coast path. The route
set out along the edge of a golf course and then into an area of new woodland
traversed by mown pathways. There was no signage across this area so I pressed
on until I met the official route again as it came round a headland. A series
of field paths led back to the clifftops. A problematic mile was then
encountered where an over officious farmer had fenced off the narrow trod,
confining the walker to the very edge of the overgrown cliff-face. To proceed,
I had to climb a fence onto private land and then back over some barbed wire to
get out again. A scramble up to a high point brought me out onto open fields
and a pleasant track running at a safer distance from the cliffs, mown in parts
and well maintained by more considerate landowners.
As I approached a trig point, a mist descended and I was not to see a
worthwhile view for the rest of the day. A strange gaggling sound could be
heard to seaward and it was only when I reached the bird watching area near
Bempton and read the information boards at the viewing platforms, that I
realised that this din was made by gannets. In fact, I nearly fell over a young
gannet sitting by the path waiting to be fed. The mist was getting thicker as I
approached Thornwick Bay. I lost the path for a few minutes whilst crossing a highly
maintained area of land being developed as a holiday centre. Then I found a
concession path that took me through a steep-sided valley and up into a car
park where, amazingly, out of the fog appeared a café. I had arrived at North Landing. The
rounding of Flamborough Heas was a great disappointment. Having anticipated for
weeks my first every visit, I saw nothing but fog on all sides. Even the
lighthouse was difficult to locate. The dominating feature was the sound of the
foghorn coming from somewhere at the base of the cliffs.
Without seeing a thing, I was round and down the leeward side of the
headland before I realised it. In no time, I was passing Old and New Fall on my
way down to South Landing. A steep set of steps led down to a beach and a
lifeboat station (selling coffee no less) and up Beacon Hill into Danes Dyke
nature reserve. I was hoping that the next beach might lead out onto
Bridlington sands, but it did not. I had one more climb over to Sewerby where
the coast path merged with a tarmacked path that ran gently downhill into the
outskirts of Bridlington, with the only danger being run down by the Land
Train. The north promenade led directly into the harbour where the only way
forward lay inland to the town centre. As it was beginning to rain, I headed
directly for the station and sat reading until my train arrived. Progress to
Doncaster was rapid and on schedule. Then my connection to Stockport got stuck
behind a goods train doing about 30 mph. No attempt was made to get the slow
train into a loop to let the passenger trains keep time. I was 30 minutes late
into Stockport but that was no loss because my connecting train to Macclesfield
was still in Manchester awaiting the arrival of a crew. Texts to my very
patient wife negotiated a late pickup and a potentially wonderful last day was
spoilt by a combination of fog on Flamborough Head and the failing train
system.
Reighton Holiday Park dep. 09.14, Bridlington Station arr. 16.38
GPS 16.55 miles in 6hrs 55mins 00secs plus 20 mins in café at North
Landing
Conclusion
Thus ended the third section of my
walk down the east coast path of England. Another 76 miles of the 2,700-mile
England Coast Path. The traverse of North Yorkshire proved pretty challenging,
particularly the ups and downs into river valleys and estuaries of the villages
by the sea. The so called wykes, these wooded ravines that involved hundreds of
slippery steps up and down, proved wearing and damaging to the 2.5 mile per
mile average pace that I had based my schedule on. The mist and fog that hung
around all week robbed me of the compensation of good views. Generally, the
paths were bone dry and in good condition and the long grassy cliff-top
sections were a joy to walk. The accommodation worked out really well. Two
great hotels and two homely Airbnbs added to the enjoyment of the week and it
was a real bonus to get good quality real ale every night, The big drawback as
ever was the train service. No longer can we expect trains to run on time, if
at all, and this supposedly sustainable way of travelling around the country is
fast becoming impossible. Next year, for my next section of the coast path, I
am seriously considering driving to the East Riding, leaving my car in the Hull
environs and using local bus services as and when necessary. These at least
seem to be more reliable even though my Cheshire bus pass is not well received
east of the Pennines. Evidently my county council does not pay its dues.
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