Day 215: Sandsend to Saltburn-by-the-Sea

Due to the strike by Northern Trains, my day begins with a 90-minute two-bus journey from Scarborough to Sandsend, so I’m the first person outside Greggs waiting for the door to open. Despite three years of pre-dawn breakfasts, I’ve only recently downloaded the Greggs loyalty app, missing out on 50 free bacon rolls!

Arriving at Sandsend Beach, I’ve just realised the three horizontal yellow lines appearing in my iPhone camera viewfinder are a new feature. Once aligned, the photo is perfectly level. I thought I’d damaged my phone yesterday and checked the photos to see if the lines appeared — senility beckons.

Climbing out of the village, the path winds along a dramatic clifftop between mounds of shale, remnants of a series of alum quarries, gradually reclaimed by nature. The day is crisp and dry. This is the wonderful thing about all-year-round coast walking. A shift in the weather and an unexpected landscape transform the day.

The path follows a disused railway line. Sadly, the tunnel entrance is sealed.

The sun makes a brief appearance, lighting up the magnificent walk to Kettleness — this is the life.

A series of steep steps down a narrow gully leads to a wooden bridge across a swollen stream, ending at a vertical cliff. Where is the path? There’s only one way, down through the water. I’m pleased to reach Runswick Sands with only one wet foot.

Runswick Bay is very pretty, perched on the hillside.

A steep road out of the village rewards with another sequence of fine views, particularly the old harbour at Port Mulgrave.

A collection of fishing huts, made from fragments of boats and other materials washed up on the beach, clings to the base of the cliffs. I’m surprised they’re not washed away in heavy seas. I’d love to take a closer look, but only a few hours of daylight remain, and it’s a long way down to the sea.

Staithes is charming, as expected, with narrow cobbled streets curving steeply down the hillside to the harbour. I’m glad to explore it now as there’s barely room to swing a cat. What must it be like in summer, heaving with visitors?

It might be a picture-postcard village, but it’s a tough old climb out. Thankfully, there’s plenty of entertainment on the slow crawl.

The Miner’s Bait Table, by Katy Ventress, celebrates the history of Boulby Mine.

There’s another descent to Skinningrove, with rows of houses huddled against the sea and fishing boats strewn across the harbour.

Chris Killip photographed the town’s residents in the early 1980s and the photographs were narrated in a short film, winning Best Non-Fiction Short at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival. Only 14 minutes long, it begins slowly but delivers an unexpected emotional punch — worth a watch.

The sun sets as I climb Warsett Hill, home to several Richard Farrington sculptures constructed at the Skinningrove steel plant, although I only find one in the darkness — Circle. Farrington described the sculpture as a giant charm bracelet.  It became a local landmark. However, in 1996 vandals cut through the base and rolled it into the sea 300 feet below. It was reclaimed, restored, and anchored more firmly.

The clifftop above Saltburn is illuminated by my head torch, highlighting a series of sad messages along the cliff edge. They make the place seem very lonely, as rain starts to fall, although tripping over the frequent molehills is my main concern.

The final leg of my day is a bus to Middlesborough, where I’m staying for the night. What a fantastic walk, with never a dull moment.

Walk distance: 17 miles.

Total distance: 3,651 miles.