It’s been a year since I visited Yorkshire. I’m back for a nine-day journey north to my home county of Northumberland. Stepping off the train at Hull, I’m certainly back in the north, feeling a sharp chill in the air. The t-shirt is swiftly exchanged for a long-sleeved top. No camping this trip due to the heavy concentration of towns and cities, so I’m hoping to cover a decent mileage with a lighter pack, despite the shorter days and unsettled weather forecast.
The winter roar of the sea at Hornsea, waves smashing into the promenade, depositing larger stones before ripping the smaller ones rattling down the slope. A shiver of anticipation — off once more.
The English Coast Path has gone AWOL again, so I’d hoped to sneak along the beach to Bridlington, but the waves are already lapping up against the steep boulder clay cliffs and there’s another hour to high tide.
I turn back and scramble up the muddy slope at Atwick.
To avoid walking on the B1242, there’s a rough clifftop track into Skirlington caravan park — big mistake. The park is a maze, with spike-topped locked gates at every turn, eventually forcing me to double back and find the main entrance out to the road.
It’s easier to escape from Colditz than Stalag Skirlington. Having been forced off the beach, it’s now difficult to find a route down. The roads vanish over the retreating cliff edge as if I’m in a Roadrunner cartoon.
I finally slither down between Skipsea and Ulrome, although a celebratory late lunch turns into a disaster, losing half my rations!
Approaching Bridlington, Auburn Beck requires drastic action, reminding me of my Greenland adventures. Unfortunately, I dumped the towel for this trip.
As I travelled up from home in the morning, 16 miles was always going to be a race against the 4 pm sunset.
Bridlington is the lobster capital of Europe, landing over 300 tonnes a year. The harbour is quiet, crews resting for a 3 am start. I’m glad someone will be up before me tomorrow.
Next day
Today is the toughest day, with 30 miles to cover to Scarborough. I estimate 2.5 miles per hour when planning my hikes, which seems slow but allows me time to explore and bimble about taking photos. This only gives me 23 miles of daylight walking, so I’ll start and finish in the dark.
My headtorch is no longer needed by the time I climb up to Flamborough Head. An owl flies up from the low trees. The path, on the edge of farmland, is soggy and muddy. I’m constantly slipping and sliding despite my hiking poles.
Time to consult the local weather oracle.
Perfect timing to enjoy a pretty sunrise.
A bench beneath the 1806 lighthouse, which guided me to Bridlington last night, is a fine spot for breakfast.
Birds glide far below, sheltered by the beautiful chalk cliffs sculpted into caves, arches and stacks.
The towering cliffs are home to the largest mainland seabird colony in England.
A series of wooden viewing platforms extend out to the cliff edge. One is closed temporarily. Perhaps to prevent overzealous bird-watchers from disturbing a bird? Two chaps in RSPB jackets stand watchfully nearby.
Leaving the popular country park, the path is less churned up, making progress a little easier.
It’s decision time at Speeton Cliffs. A sign says four miles to Filey via the beach or six miles along the clifftop. White spray edges the base of dark cliffs in the distance, it’s a long way down to the beach, and I’ve no time for backtracking, which makes the decision easy.
I drop down at Hunmanby Gap and have a little fun dodging the waves, squeezing along the beach beneath Primrose Valley holiday park. Memories of staying there with a school friend, Phil Moore, when I was 15 — building up the confidence to ask a girl for the end-of-evening slow dance and kissing outside in the dark. Some things you don’t forget.
The sun has set when I arrive at Filey. It’s been a lovely hike but slow in the mud. There’s no way I’m walking another 10 miles to Scarborough in the dark, so jump on a train. That’s another gap to be filled but easy to pick up as both ends are on the rail network. Perhaps next month when I return for Northumberland or as part of a separate Cleveland Way hike. There’s no rush and much to see.
Walk distance: 36 miles.
Total distance: 3,516 miles.
Hunmanby Gap! I remember great days on the beach there as a kid, but all the red mud cliffs(?) frightened me for some reason.
Hi Helen. They do look a bit intimidating, like they are about to slide down on top of you!
Hi Tony
I love the weather Forecasting Stone. Brilliant!
Peter
Hi Peter. Well, it was accurate for that morning. 🙂
A shame the tide was in, I was able to do most of that section along the beach though you do need to keep back from the cliff edge. The area around Flamborough was especially lovely.
I was scuppered by the tide times quite a lot on this outing. The shorter days are less flexible.