Lincolnshire (North, North East & East Lindsey) Coast Path

17^th – 21^st March 2025

Hull – Sutton on Sea

 

Introduction

 

Spring has finally arrived and the forecast for late March was unbelievably good so I booked some accommodation and set off back to Hull where last year’s episode of walking the England Coast Path had terminated. Having had some bad experiences with train travel across the north of England, especially on Sundays, I left my travel until the Monday morning rush-hour. All went well with my connections and, right on schedule, I walked out of Hull Station and into a bright Yorkshire morning.  

 

Monday 17^th March  2025                Hull – Barrow Haven

Crossing the Humber

 I left the station along Carr Lane and, at the City Hall, rejoined the route that I had finished on last November along Princes Quay and over the footbridge into the Marina. Fancying a bite to eat before leaving civilisation behind, I grabbed a cheese toasty in Thieving Harry’s before weaving my way around docks, locks and riverside housing. A traverse of some old and well used lock-gates took me out passed some industrial sites and onto a good walkway, Riverside Quay, passing Albert Dock. This ran in a straight line for nearly two miles before a righthand dogleg brought the route up beside the busy A63. A further lock-gate led round the back of derelict warehouses and onwards towards the Humber Bridge, a magnificent sight opening out ahead. Leaving the river briefly to get through a business park, I rounded a corner to reach the official start to the Yorkshire Wolds Way. Three long-distance trails follow the next mile of riverside path up to and under the bridge, where my route headed through a kiddies play area, under some road tunnels and into a quiet area of woodland. A set of steps headed upwards to pick up the walkway across the stunning Humber Bridge.

 

The sun was shining brightly over the broad river flowing far below and Lincolnshire looked green and welcoming on the far shore. The long descent to treetop level brought me to some steps down to a road passing back under the A15 and into Barton on Humber. A footbridge over a canalised stream took the coast path to the Waters’ Edge Visitors Centre and its café, the Humber Hideaway. I just had time for a coffee and a cake before they closed for the day. So, I was quickly back of the coastal embankment which skirted a wetland reserve and its ponds and pools. Two miles along here and the next inlet was Barrow Haven. This was my day done and I turned inland at the railway station and headed for my pre-booked accommodation, the Haven Inn. As I walked through the door of the conservatory, the owner looked up and said ‘Ah! The Walker’. It was nice to be expected.

 

Hull dep. 11.18,  Barrow Haven arr. 16.48

GPS 11.87 miles in 4hr 39mins 25secs, plus 30 min at the café in Hull Marina (11.30-12.00) and 20 mins in the Humber Hideaway Café (15.25-15.45) near Barton on Humber.

Stayed at the Haven Inn, Barrow Haven eating fish (haddock) & chips followed by jam sponge and custard. The beer was Landlord (4.1%) from Timothy Taylor.

 

 

Tuesday 18^th March 2025          Barrow Haven – ImminghamonisterH

Docks and Trucks

 

There was no hurry today, or so I thought. A lie in and full English breakfast and I was letting myself out of the conservatory and striding down the lane to the railway station. There was not a cloud in the sky. I was in shorts and wearing a sunhat and dark glasses. Not bad for March. Back on the coast path, the first point of interest was at New Holland where the route turns inland to gain the railway line and to avoid the docks. Passing round the dockland site, I was directed by a security lady to follow the marked white lines against the fence but this led to some confusion and twice more I had to seek advice from the workforce to find my way out the other side. A dog walked admitted that local knowledge is a great help. A long remote section along the sea embankment gave splendid views over the river estuary to Hull and the P&O ferry. At Goxhill Haven and Skitter Ness, a corner is turned and the coast  turns gradually towards the south. At East Halton Skitter, I stopped for a rest, a bite to eat and a cool drink. It was warming up nicely.

 

Further progress was along a concrete track on top of the sea wall. Heavy industry appeared ahead. The first  encounter was at North Killingholme Haven where a line of ships was being loaded by a continual flow of large trucks. As I reached the entrance road, I came to a gate and a buzzer. This sound the loudest klaxon I had heard in a long time and a security guard scurried over to stop the stream of traffic and usher me across the traffic and out the other side. He looked relieved when I told him I was not coming back. The right of way returned to the coast at another wetland nature reserve, a pleasant oasis of calm after the dockland chaos. There was a short diversion round a building site and then a series of old lighthouses, Eventually the coast path came to an end at a huge set of silos and another industrial site. I turned inland down Marsh Lane, crossing a railway line via a dome-shaped road bridge. The main road was busy with heavy vehicles but there was a wide pavement/cycle way alongside. This led to a large roundabout which had trucks coming in from all directions. It was an amazing site with no private cars to be seen.

 

I was still two mile outside Immingham and my shortest option was west along a frantically busy dual-carriage way. But there was no walkway, in fact no way of getting out of the traffic lanes. It looked a frightening prospect so I took the only sensible alternative, a wide cycleway running north up the A160. This added two miles to my planned route for the day but it had several advantages. It kept me safe and sane; it passed a petrol station where I grabbed a coffee and cake, and took me into Immingham through a quite delightful area of heath and woodland. There is not much to see of the ancient site of the medieval settlement but Immingham church looked lovely in the late afternoon sun. A mile of housing estates and suburbia brought me eventually to my hotel, the County, an imposing building just outside the town centre. It had been a rather longer and more stressful day than I had expected. Maybe I should have got up earlier.

Barrow Haven 09.54, Immingham arr.16.48

GPS 16.73 miles in 6hrs 23mins 05secs walking time plus 15 mins rest at East Halton Skitter and a 20 min coffee stop at the petrol station..

Stayed at the County Hotel in Pelham Road, Immingham. Ate chicken curry, rice & chips and drank two very welcome pints of Atlantic Pale Ale (4.5%) from Sharps Brewery.

 

 

Wednesday 19^th March 2025            Immingham – Cleethorpes

Back to the Seaside

 

The hotel was not providing breakfast but a knock on the back door of the neighbouring café got me a bacon bap. I sat in the morning sunshine and icy wind to eat my food before slipping round the hotel and starting the day’s walk along Waterworks Street. A vague trod across open land passed through a wood and out into a bare flat field. A way marker on Kings Road was my target, then it was across a roundabout and along Queens Road back towards the seafront. Just after the entrance to the ferry port, a narrow path beside a wood headed straight towards the sea wall which I followed southwards along a straight and lonely 5-mile stretch. I met a cyclist who warned me that the coast path was closed up ahead. I began to pick up notices on the Environment Agency’s boards indicating closures of the right of way, reminiscent of last year’s experiences in Yorkshire. And sure enough, when I reached the industrial complexes at Pyewipe, I was met with the ‘footpath closed’ signs. Inland I went once again, passing a weird wooden sculpture, towards another line of trucks and heavy vehicles. A long and seemly endless length of pavement led passed the entrance to Grimsby Docks and up to a major road intersection. I was rewarded with a petrol station and a Co-op shop which sold almond croissants. I was rapidly becoming an expert in Costa do-it-yourself coffee machines.

 

A wide cycle & footway followed the main carriageway, a super-cycle way, which skirted Grimsby Yacht Club and Marina. The road continued over the railway line with no pavements on either side. The pedestrian route weaved its way down some back streets and across the train tracks at road level before passing the fish docks along a road of fish warehouses and wholesale outlets. At Clee Station, I joined a very long (nearly 2 miles) dead straight road that ran beside the trainline. Close to its southern end, a footbridge led over the line and gave access to the sea wall and a concrete walkway round to Cleethorpes promenade. It was rather disappointing to walk past the shops, cafes and stalls all shuttered and closed whilst many holiday makers enjoyed the sunshine. At the pier my days walking was over and I turned into Sea Road and the town centre. I could not access my hotel until 3pm so I spent 40 minutes in a very pleasant café, the Riverhead in St Peters Avenue, until it was time to find Clee Road and my hotel. An easy day’s walking with a nice seaside resort to welcome me. Mine host at the hotel recommended some real ale pubs and eating house and showed me to a very spacious and comfortable room.

 

 Immingham dep. 09.36, Cleethorpes arr.15.07

GPS 11.28 miles in 4 hrs 26 mins 57 secs walking with 10 mins stop at the Co-op near Grimsby Docks and 40 mins in the Riverhead Cafe in Cleethorpes.

I started in the No. 1 Pub at the station with a pint of Zest in a Glass (3.7%) from Rudgate Brewery. Then on to the Nottingham House for a pint of Wainwright Gold (4.1%) and a large plate of Haddock, chips & mushy peas

 

 

Thursday 20^th March 2025             Cleethorpes – North Somercotes

Coast Path Signposts At Last

 

Breakfast was a help-yourself affair, warming crumpets and pancakes in a revolving toaster whilst drinking a gallon of coffee. I got underway before 10am but immediately popped into a local supermarket to sign up for the prawn butty brigade. Then, pocketing my lunch, I returned to the pier and the matter in hand. The promenade was long and straight and all the shops and stalls were still closed and shuttered. The weather might be spring-like but it had not persuaded the town-folk that the holiday season had arrived. After passing the leisure centre, I cut seawards onto a cycle route through some parkland and into the dunes and marshes. I stayed with the marshland track for too long, finding myself on the wrong side of a drainage channel. Turning inland to pick up the coast path, I slipped onto my back in trying to jump across the slimy water courses. Not particularly shaken, but coated in mud down my rucksack and shorts, I continued south through the holiday park at Humberston Fitties and out into the marshland beyond.

 

Round some birding ponds, the route rejoined the raise embankment of the sea defences and continued for a couple of miles on a grassy track to Tetney Sluice, a crossing point of the drainage system from the flat agricultural land to my right. Gun shots could be heard ahead. It was either a Russian invasion or some crow-scarers in the surrounding fields. But there was definitely a firing range out towards Northcoates Point on land that was an war-time airfield.  I suddenly came to a finger post, obviously newly installed, indicating the King Charles III England Coast Path. I had not seen one of these for a year or so, somewhere up in North Yorkshire, I recall. Puzzled at first, I then saw from the map that I had now passed into East Lindsey and maybe this was a local authority that had grasped the nettle and taken up the governmental policy of demarking a path around our coast. Another long section of embankment led to a car park at Horse Shoe Point and a long chat with a cyclist who was travelling north up the coast path back to Cleethorpes. I took a break and ate my prawn butty whilst enjoying the sunshine over the endless flatland.

 

The final stretch of today’s walk headed out to Donna Nook on newly laid paths through a nature reserve, all beautifully signed with coast path fingerposts and, glory be!! national trail acorns. A short section through dunes and gorse had not yet been completed but, except for a field where it did not quite join up, guided me through the dunes and back onto the sea embankment. I was not long on this before I had to turn inland and head for my overnight accommodation, a farm on the outskirts of North Somercotes. A wonderful day’s walking at last.

 

 Cleethorpes dep. 09.50, North Somercotes arr.16.29

GPS 15.08 miles in 6 hrs 05 mins 14 secs walking time plus a 20 min stop to eat my sandwich at Horse Shoe Point.

I stayed at Meals Farm in a lovely room in their courtyard. It was a mile walk to the Axe & Cleaver where I enjoyed steak & ale pie & mash with a dessert of bread & butter pudding and custard. The beer was Triple Hop IPA (5.3%) from Batemans Brewery just down the coast in Wainfleet. It seemed a long way home in the dark.

 

 

 Friday 21^st March 2025        North Somercotes – Sutton on Sea        

 

No breakfast was on offer so I slipped away from the farm quietly and early and walked briskly down to the village. Here a local store was warming up bacon & sausage baps and the usual machine sprouted out a coffee. Just down the road was a bench and I had ten minutes eating my breakfast whilst watching village life go by. A pavement ran beside the main road for the first mile out of town but, after passing the school, I had to take to the grass verge passed a holiday camp. The verge gradually disappeared and I was cowering along the gutter of a very busy road with dangerously fast traffic. Passing Locksley Hall and Saltbox Farm, a  track towards the coast offered some relief and I was able to enjoy a quiet stroll on deserted farm roads running parallel to the sea embankment and into the pleasant village of Saltfleet. A right of way through a holiday park deposited me back on the main road near a couple of pubs, a petrol station and an old windmill. The road bridge crossing the river acted as a sluice against water ingress from the sea.

 

The continuation of the coast path, now fully signed, was down a farm track to the left and then onto a delightful few miles of grass and woodland that ran behind the dunes. A series of carparks broke the solitude and then, at a tiny hamlet of cottages, a left-right chicane led out onto a narrow trod beside a fence line though some agricultural land. At Theddlethorpe St Helen, the path got even narrower before turning though heath and scrubland before emerging onto a wide track between trees. The map was indicating a righthand turn beyond the next car park on a long detour inland. But the new signage said otherwise. A new coast path fingerpost pointed left into the dunes and up onto a high ridge of grazed heath. I was now off the map and depending on further signs that did not materialise I was soon floundering about in a maze of sandy through thick scrub, gorse and thorn. I was glad to finally get a view of the roofs of a holiday park of static homes and I turned steeply down towards it.

 

I was glad to get out of this sandy jungle nightmare. I squeezed between two caravans and onto the main track through the site. Out onto a road at last I quickly came to the pub at North End and turned onto the straightest road I at seen for a good while, a long semi-suburban street that seemed to continue to the horizon behind the dunes at Mablethorpe. Much to my relief, the official route of the coast path left this featureless carriageway and went up a ramp into the dunes where it became a walk/cycle way that ran into the promenade along the seafront. I saw nothing of Mablethorpe. This was hidden behind the crest of the high dunes. It was as if nothing existed along the coast except the walkway and the sea. As per the findings of the last few days, all cafes and businesses along the promenade were closed, even the toilets. I continued south passing I know not what on my right, entrusting my map to measure my progress. A bus, my timetable informed me, should have just left Mablethorpe, and I was able to judge that I could get pass Trusthorpe and reach Sutton on Sea before it reached me. I got as far as High Street and a bus stop outside the Baccus Hotel when panic struck. The no. 59 bus to Skegness did not stop here and I had to sprint round the corner into Station Road to find the correct bus stop. I could now relax, my journey for the week was over.

 North Somercotes dep. 08.32, Sutton on Sea arr. 13.45

GPS 13.09 miles in 5 hrs 03 mins 20 secs.

 

 

Conclusion

 

My early start and goodly pace had got me onto a bus earlier than planned. I had not booked an advanced ticket for the train from Skegness. I had become wise to the uncertainties of public transport in this country. And sure enough, the bus ran into a grid-locked Skegness where road works near the travel interchange was causing half hour delays, So I missed my connection, walked back to a local café for a coffee and cake and caught the next train.  Connections at Nottingham and Stockport worked well so I was home before 9pm and was able to join the dinner date that my wife was hosting at home.

 

I had added another 68 miles to my total for the England Cost Path and had enjoyed extraordinarily good weather in the process. The Humber had been crossed and the vast estuary was now behind me. The industry and docklands had been successfully negotiated, only the truck infested roads around Immingham had been a problem. The flatlands of rural Lincolnshire had their own charm, if not a lot of drama. I would have preferred to have reached Skegness on this trip but the shorter days had suited me well for a first walk of the year. And the one great joy was the return, after a huge gap, to the coast path signposts and acorns for the long overdue national trail. East Lindsey local authority has, I hope, set an example for other counties to deliver the promised land.

 

East Yorkshire Coast Path

4^th – 8^th November 2024

Bridlington - Hull

 

Introduction

 Impatient for my next bout of the England coast path, I sought an early opportunity to return to Yorkshire. ‘October is the cruellest month’ as Elliott may have said if he had lived in Hull. The remnants of the north Atlantic hurricane season threw rain and cloud across the country and family and friends took centre stage. Early November was looking more settled so, even though the clocks were back on GMT and early sunsets came into play, a window of weather and tide schedules appeared. A quick check on accommodation, revolving round a bunk bed in a bird observatory, and I was set up for a march to the Humber and beyond. A train to Hull was booked but the uncertainties of weekend train travel persuaded me to take the car and leave it in  a centrally-based car park in the city centre. A bus to Bridlington got me to the Oakwell Guest House in Windsor Crescent for just after dark. Following the owner’s recommendation, I was soon trying some real ale in the Moon Tap in Prospect Street; Chieftain (4.0%) from Rudgate Brewery, York and Wrath of the Gods (4.5%) from Shadow Bridge Brewery, Barton-upon-Humber. I wandered down to the Stirling Castle for a meal of belly pork & black pudding with a glass of Merlot.

 

Monday 4^th November 2024             Bridlington – Hornsea

Taking to the Beach

 

The lovely owners of my guest house provided a full English breakfast and I was set up for a 9am start pausing only for a photo at the front gate. I retraced the route from the finish of last September’s walk back to the harbour then south along the promenade passed the Spa and up onto the cliff-top path. This ended abruptly in a track that descended onto the beach. A tramp along the firm wet sand looked a more attractive proposition than finding a route along the  cliffs. Progress was rapid but mind-numbing with no views inland except the brown layers of mud and, on the other side, the grey and restless North Sea,. To break the monotony, I searched for a right-of-way inland up a steep-sided stream but failed to find an obvious path, After chatting to an ex-teacher from Hull who had led a school trip to South Africa, a couple of dog walkers told me about a coffee shop in the adjacent Barmston holiday park. I ascended up the grassy cliff to find that the café was about to close for the winter and I was probably their last customer of the year.

 

Suitably refreshed, I continued on grassy paths along the top of the low cliffs to cross the Barmston Main Drain at the sluice gate, At Ulrome, I dropped down a ramp back onto the beach for a short way to avoid two separate caravan parks blocking my progress. Shinning up some muddy steps cut into the cliff face, I was able to continue along the cliffs to Skipsea. A ‘Private: Keep Out’ notice forced me inland along the edge of a ploughed field until I could break back to the cliff-edge to Far Grange Park. Here the coast path walker is definitely not welcome. Scrambling around a fence onto the golf course, the holiday park threw up an  impassible barrier. I was forced back to the main entrance where the security guy could only suggest the cycle track beside the busy main road. Spotting a trod leading back towards the coast, I found myself in another holiday park with an indoor market and was soon able to regain the cliff-top without further obstacles.

 

A trig point marked the start of a dead straight grass track into Atwick. Ignoring the next ‘Private’ sign, I pressed on through yet another holiday park and over grassy fields into the outskirts of Hornsea. The map showed a turn through a cul-de-sac back onto the coast where  descending grassland led to the prom and the Floral Cafe and a welcome bacon bap. It was too early to check in so I spent 45 minutes reading and drinking cappuccinos. At the famous town beacon, I headed inland through Hornsea town centre to locate the Hayloft b&b which was run more as an Airbnb. I was shown though the conservatory and washhouse up to a lovely bedroom. The Coast Path in East Yorkshire was far from a fait accompli, and this was just the start!

 

Bridlington dep. 09.01,  Hornsea Airbnb arr. 16.01

GPS 14.80 miles in 5hr 38mins 27secs, plus 30 min stop at Balmston and 45 mins in café on Hornsea Prom. Stayed at the Hayloft, Back Westgate, Hornsea and ate at the Victoria, Market Place, steak pie & mash then jam sponge & custard. The beer was Shropshire Gold (3.8%) from Salopian Brewery and the glass of red wine was a Shiraz.

 

 

Tuesday 5^th November 2024      Hornsea – WithernseaonisterH

Getting into Deep Water

 

As there was no breakfast provided at the Hayloft, I left very early in search of a café. At 8am there wasv little open in Hornsea town centre, just a supermarket where I bought a butty for lunch. The seafront leisure centre was just opening and I managed a quick bacon bap before setting out on what was to be a long day of beach walking. Just beyond the beacon was the terminal point of the Trans Pennine Trail and the ’S’ shaped symbol on the pillar, a twin to the trail-head at Southport. The first section of the day’s walk was over to Mappleton. This looked rather flat and featureless so I contacted Rachel, my daughter, and had a good natter whilst I traversed the cliff-tops, caravan parks and field edges, with cracks in the ground showing where the next piece of coast will soon disappear into the sea. The entire coast is crumbling away as stormy seas attack the soft cliffs .

 

The cafe at Mappleton closes on Tuesdays so I got no break before descending the ramp down to the beach and condemning myself to the beach for the rest of the day. It was a good job I had studied the tide tables because, if a walker gets caught by rising water, there is no escape route up the cliffs. Facing 12 miles of sand and mud, I set off keeping close to the sea, the firmest underfoot conditions. This turned out to be a huge mistake. Stream outflows from the land seem to be turned southwards, probably due to longshore drift. I found myself at one point on a sandy spur that disappeared into the sea with a deep estuary between me and the beach. Rather than reverse half a mile, I decided rather unwisely to wade across the inlet. It was far deeper than I expected and I got much wetter than I was prepared for and was lucky not to submerge my phone and wallet. The rest of the long march was spent drying out my lower parts and clinging to the safer ground near the foot of the cliffs.

 

The only break from the tedium was a five-minute sit on a muddy boulder to eat my butty and top up with water. I was shattered by early afternoon and was most relieved to see signs of civilisation as I neared Withernsea. Pulling up the steps onto the prom, I sat for some minutes on the first bench trying to compose myself before walking along to the café near the castle. Once again I was too early to check in so I sat for 45 minutes replenishing my diminished energy supplies before staggering round to my accommodation. It had been an unrelenting day of beach walking and I was very grateful for a shower and a couple of pints before heading out to eat.

Hornsea 08.09, Withernsea arr.15.35

GPS 16.67 miles in 6hrs 16mins 21secs walking time plus 20 mins for a bacon bap in the Hornsea Hub Leisure Centre and 45 mins for a coffee & cake in Castle Café in Withernsea whilst killing time until check-in.

Stayed at the Alexandra Hotel in Queen Street. Drank pints of Sea Fury (5.0%) from Sharp’s Brewery in Rock and Cwtch (4.6%) from Tiny Rebel Brewery in Newport. Went across the road to the Bengal Lancer for a chicken tandoori.

 

 

Wednesday 6^th November 2024       Withernsea – Kilnsea

My Point has been Spurned

 

Another early start with no breakfast. I searched the main street for an early café and found a haven in Smiles for Miles amusements where a friendly old dear made me a bacon butty. The south prom came to an abrupt end and, reluctant to take to the beach, I diverted inland through a housing estate and out onto a country road. Breaking back to the cliff edge, I was again faced with fences and private land so I lowered myself down a loop of rope and back onto the beach where the retreating tide had left wet but firm walking conditions. By the time I had done 8 miles passed wind farms and gas storage facilities, I
was ready a mental home. One last holiday park at Easington and I was ready to take to any opportunity of getting off this damned beach. A grassy trod led me into Beacon Lagoons nature reserve, a series of freshwater lagoons inland of the dunes.

 

Progress was on a narrow path atop a raised seawall running for two miles or so through the lagoons These hosted interesting birdlife including a great egret. I stopped for a short break, a sandwich and a drink, wishing that I had brought my binoculars. At the southern end of the reserve, the fenced path continued over farmland and returned the coast at a lane leading to what is left of Kilnsea. Whole villages on this eroding coast have disappeared into the sea around here. The lane continued as a tarmac road to the Spurn Discover Centre where, to my horror, I found the café to be close. I negotiated a bag drop with the volunteer crew in the workshop and set off for Spurn Point without all that weight on my shoulders. My newly released stride did not last for. The initial part of the route was across soft sandy at the neck of the peninsula where the sea had ingressed. I was crossing onto a tidal island and had to keep an eye on the tide tables to avoid being cut off. Once back on dry land, I made faster progress on the remains of the road than ran down to the lifeboat station. Beyond the lighthouse were some modern housings, now empty, and a radar station for shipping. The point is reached through a sandy heathland where a sign-post proudly displays distances to various parts of the known world.

 

The only way was back the way I had come. I must have been the last tourist on the island as I strode out to recross the sand causeway before high tide. I retrieved my rucksack from the discovery centre just as they were closing. Darkness was encroaching as I headed to the pub where I booked a table for a later meal and then moved on to the bird observatory and my bunkroom for the night. Rob, the manager of the observatory, came up to collect payment and I had time for a quick shower before returning to the pub for a lovely evening of food, drink and chatter. I had rounded a major turning point in my walk and tomorrow I would be leaving the North Sea behind.

 

Withernsea dep. 08.24, Kilnsea arr.16.18

GPS 18.79 miles in 7hrs 10mins 31secs walking with 15 mins stop for a bacon bap in an arcade in Withernsea and a 15 min stop to eat a butty overlooking the lagoons near Easington. Stayed in the Bird Observatory at Kilnsea and ate at the Crown and Anchor next door. Had haddock, chips & mushy peas followed by ginger sponge & custard. The beer was Landlord (4.0%) from Timothy Taylor and I finished with a half of Old Peculiar (5.0%). Had a pleasant chat with Bob & Alice, two Lancastrians now living in Hull,

 

Thursday 7^th November 2024          Kilnsea – Paull Holme

Diversion into the Unknown

 It was such a quiet and perfect start. Venturing downstairs for a breakfast of instant porridge, I was the only person left in the bird observatory. Such are the demands of early morning bird ringing. I slipped out of the empty building into a still and gloomy morning, perfect for the long day ahead. I walked up the road for a short distance looking for the start of the sea wall flood defence that I was to follow for the best part of two days. A field path led back to the coast where the route joined the raised track along the north shore of the Humber estuary. The grassy track for the first three miles seemed heavenly after beach walking for the previous three days. All was good with the world. And then Armageddon!

 

                      

I am not averse to climbing over ‘footpath closed’ fences but this barrier looked beyond me. The entire sea wall was cordoned off for miles with just an inland-pointing arrow by way of a diversion. I followed a winding lane heading northwards towards the village of Skeffling. The only dwelling was a small bungalow and fortunately a man was fiddling with his vehicle on his drive. ‘Everyone else has turned left at the next track’, says he pointing towards a group of cabins across the fields. The containers turned out to be the temporary offices for the construction site that I was trying to circumnavigate. Another stroke of luck was the dog walker who stopped me from disappearing for ever in the new workings, She showed me the  route up a ramp onto a containing wall for a set of lagoons. An artificial surface led me for some miles around this newly created nature reserve, passing brand new luxury bird-hides as I went. All this came to an abrupt end when I came to a remote country road. I had no idea where I was and which way to go: there was a total absence of signage. The map was useless. It showed none of these new workings and the tracks marked on the map seemed no longer to exist. I came to a gate marked ‘No Entry’ and had no alternative but to climb this and push on in the general direction of Hull. Gate after gate I  climbed until eventually I found a field track heading towards Outstray Farm, my only point of reference. As I approach the farm, a birdwatcher, complete with telescope and tripod, challenged me as to my route across the nature reserve. I was rather miffed and told him what I thought of this unsigned diversion with no help on offer to a coast path walker. We parted with him promising to pass my comments onto the Environment Agency and then he put me on the optimum route back on the river passing the Latitude Zero monument as I did so.

 

I was now getting increasingly concerned about the encroaching dusk as my diversion had put me well behind schedule. A quick stop for some emergency rations whilst sitting on some boulders near Hawkin’s Point then across a marshy area where I was eaten alive by flying bugs and insects. The blisters and welts took weeks to go down. As I rounded the final corner, darkness was falling and I could barely make out the farm where I was booked to stay. A set of steps led off the raised bank and a rough trop had been made across a dry dyke. A locked gate in an overgrown thorn hedge had to be climbed to gain access to the field in front of the farm. Soon Warren the owner was showing me to my chalet in the farmyard. He then rang the local pub and reserved me a table. After a shower and change of clothes, he then drove me the two miles for a well-earned meal. He even volunteered to pick me up  afterwards.. After 21 miles and an unexpected diversion, I was very grateful for this kindness. It brought a peaceful end to a very arduous day.

Kilnsea dep. 08.22, Paull Holme arr.16.30

GPS 20.54 miles in 7hrs 52mins 46secs walking time plus 15 mins stop to eat my sandwich  at Hawkin’s Point.

I stayed at Paull Holme Farm and ate in the Humber Tavern in Paull, steak & mushroom suet pie & chips followed by jam sponge & custard. The beer included Frothingham Best (4.3%)  from Great Newsome Brewery, South Frodingham.

 

 

Friday 8^th November 2024   Paull Holme – Hull   

Unable to Dock

 

I sat alone in the guests’ kitchen and helped myself to yoghurt, toast and coffee before packing my sack and setting off back over the field, over the gate in the thorn hedge and up the grass bank onto the sea wall. This I followed round the fort and out onto the riverbank. Passing a line of cottages with well-kept gardens and a car park full of fishermen after some protein, I arrived in the village of Paull and last night’s eating house, the Humber Tavern. At the far end of the village street, the sea wall started again and this turned sharply inland up a side stream passed a power station which I assumed was oil-fuelled. The path emerged onto a dead straight road onto which I turned alongside an estate of heavy industry. A busy flyover carrying the A1033, a major dual carriageway running eastwards from Hull City Centre, blocked my way. By risking life and limb, I was able to cross the traffic on the slip roads to gain a cycle-path on the far side. The map showed several rights of way, some marked as national trails continuing through dockland but I was stopped by security at the entrance to this industrial complex and told that no such paths exist, Dockland is forbidden territory. I continued for two miles further, as I had been directed, to find a permitted route back to the coast.

 

Half way along this arterial road, a petrol station advertised a coffee stop, A counter in the corner of the shop was serving coffee and bacon rolls and I took a brief break from the traffic noise outside.  At the designated for the ferry terminal, a footpath sign, my first for some three miles, proudly pointed towards the river. But when I got down to the ferry and the right-of-way marked on the map, there was still no access for a walker. I stopped a guy out for his lunchtime run apologising profusely for interrupting his rhythm, He explained that I had overshot the walkers’ path and, if I returned 400m, I would find a bridleway passed a wind turbine assemble site. Here I could pick up Trans Pennine Trail signs to access the riverside residential developments that led me to Hull’s famous aquarium, the Deep. A lovely new footbridge crossed a side river/canal and into a lively street full of bars and cafes that ran along to the marina. Calling it a day for my coastal walking, I turned inland alongside the marina, took a footbridge over Clive Sullivan Way and arrived in the pedestrianised shopping centre of the city. I was soon at the car and preparing for the drive home. Another section of the coast path was in the bag.

Paull Holme dep. 09.02, Hull arr. 13.50

GPS 11.54 miles in 4hrs 27mins 09secs plus 20 mins in café at a petrol station.

 

Conclusion

 

This 82-mile stage in my journey from the Scottish border around the England Coast Path had got me as far as Hull. It was my 4^th section walked over the last three years and in many ways the least enjoyable. I loved walking through Northumberland and the North Yorkshire coast was spectacular. But the industrial areas in between were a different matter. In choosing to walk the entire coast, every inch of it, then one must be prepared to take the good with the bad. However, I did not expect some of the problems that I met on this last trip. I knew in advance that the coast was eroding and falling into the sea but I had no idea that it was happening that fast and that dramatically. Add to this the reluctance of land owners, whether they be holiday parks or golf courses, government agencies, farmers or nature conservationists, to facilitate the passage of the coast path walker and many of the objectives of this new national trail become a mockery. My last concern is the approach of the mapping bodies, Streetmap or Ordnance Survey in provided up-to-date information to the foot traveller. The indication of tracks and rights of way that are closed off or totally inaccessible and the lack of communication between map makers and local authorities, agencies and developers is patently obvious. I feel sorry for oversea walkers, enticed by reading about this new path opened by the king and supposedly the longest coast path in Europe. They do not know what they are letting themselves in for.

 

 

North Yorkshire Coast Path

1^st – 5^th September 2024

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 1^st 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.

X

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 2^nd September 2024           Runswick Bay – Robin Hood’s BayonisterH

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.

 Runswick Bay 09.24, Robin Hood’s Bay arr.16.38

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 3^rd 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 4^th 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 5^th 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.