We woke to the sound of rain on the tents, it had rained for most of the night, my tent while proving to be watertight was so small I still could not avoid the problem of leaning against the sides of it when asleep and ending up with a wet sleeping bag is not very good when it's a down filled bag.
It was early and quiet so we took the opportunity of getting all our stuff out of the tents and into a communal hut which had a small kitchen, toilets and a shower plus tables where we could lay our kit out and pack it up in the warmth & dry.
When packing was complete we donned our waterproofs, went outside and dropped and packed the tents.
This had been a great benefit it had given us the chance to shower, eat breakfast and then pack everything away dry and proper, just adding the wet tents at the end. We set off in full wet weather gear but optimistic that the weather would improve.
We arrived at Runswick, according to my guide book it is "a delightfully situated village on the headlands southern slopes", apparently it's a sun-trap when the sun shines but today it was pouring down.
The Cleveland Historian Ord said that in "1864 the whole village except for one house sank in the middle of the night, fortunately the fisherman were engaged in 'waking a corpse' so the alarm was quickly raised and the inhabitants escaped with their lives". Now no longer a working fishing village it is almost entirely a holiday village.
Right on the front was a beach cafe serving great food, we had sandwiches and two cups of proper coffee each ,while we watched the teeming rain. When we had finished we paid went outside and incredibly the rain suddenly stopped . Gary bought Monty a ball for the walk along the beach, it was always amazing to see how the sand and the sea would put a new lease of life into Monty, cough forgotten.
"Afflicted children would be carried into the cave and their parents would invoke the spirit of the Hob for its cure by shouting “Hob-hole Hob! my bairn’s got kink-cough; take’t off, take’t off.”
However, Hobs are frequently described as malevolent, short, hairy, ugly and bad tempered, Gary and I looked carefully at Dean, maybe a visit for Monty was not a good idea.
We carried on along the tops and came across a home-made sign that not only confirmed that we were going in the right direction but that we were now 3/4's of the way along the CW.
I originally had planned to get to Robin Hood's Bay today but the weather seemed to have taken a bit of the impetus out of our stride and Whitby was looking more like a realistic place to stopover. It was now visible from the cliffs and you could just make out Whitby Abbey.
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Whitby from Sandsend Nesss |
It was now 3 o'clock and Whitby was definitely looking more like the destination of today's walk so we took a short break on the car-park and relieved of my backpack I had a quick look round Sandsend for photos.
I had read that there where some pretty cottages in Sandsend.
and I wasn't disappointed....
Sandsend Hotel must have been impressive in its hey day with its 'Motor Garage'. Since then it has been converted to apartments.
We set off walking again, the CW follows the road for just over a mile and looking back I took the opportunity to get my last photo of Sandsend.
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| Sandsend Beach |
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| Whitby Beach |
It's not far from Sandsend to Whitby but the contrast is startling, after the moors and cliff paths dropping down into Whitby late Saturday afternoon was a cultural shock. Whitby was packed with day trippers, shops, and amusements, however we did get some good fish & chips. Afterwards we crossed the River Esk and climbed the infamous 199 steps to the Abbey on East Cliff
A short walk beyond the abbey was a large camp-site were we hoped we might stay over-night and maybe 'stroll' back down into Whitby for dinner and a pint or three. However the camp-site was not a touring-site and could/would not accommodate us for the evening.
So it was decision time, camp wild somewhere along the coast-path or press on to Robin Hoods Bay still 6-7 miles further on. I voted for the latter as it would keep me to my original plan, which was to finish at Robin Hoods Bay on Day 5.
Dean made a quick phone call ahead to check that the camp-site at Robin Hoods Bay had availability and paid a deposit on his credit card. So we bought a sandwich ate it quickly and set-off as it was now 6:00pm, it looked like we would be walking with head-torches again tonight.
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| The Mad Bulls & Monty |
Once the decision had been made we slipped into 'tabbing mode' and set off in earnest to reach our destination. Walking at this time of day has a surreal feel, it's quiet, atmospheric and you have the coast-path all to yourself. We quickly came across the fog-horns just outside of Whitby known as the Whitby Bulls or Mad Bull.
Sadly the fog horns were decommissioned by Trinity House in 1988 replacing them with an electric hooter, definitely not providing the same dramatic sound, In foggy conditions it used to blast out the sound four times every 90 seconds.
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| The perfect spot for a wild camp! |
The lighthouse, 'Whitby High Light' stands 13 metres high on the cliff edge 70 metres above sea level. The red and white light flashes every 10 seconds and can be seen out at sea for up to 18 miles. Previously fully manned 24 hours a day the light was run on paraffin until 1976 when the system was electrified.
In 1992 the lighthouse became fully automated and is now controlled electronically from an operations centre in Harwich.
Today the building is a private residential property and holiday let.
As dusk approached we spooked a deer with its young fawn they were right on the coast-path and on the edge of the cliff . The deer immediately jumped over the fence into the field and ran off, panic ensued as the fawn couldn't follow and it frantically ran backwards and forwards along the cliff path looking for a way through, we stood watching with bated breath until eventually 1/2 mile further along it found a way through. I quickly got my camera out but I was too late they were gone, I consoled myself with a shot of the afterglow of the sunset and the dramatic coast line.
It was 8:30pm and very dark when we arrived at our camp-site, just time to pitch our soaked tents and get down to the pub for some supper. On aching legs and sore feet it felt like a 3 mile round trip to the pub in the dark and across the fields but it was worth it.
As dusk approached we spooked a deer with its young fawn they were right on the coast-path and on the edge of the cliff . The deer immediately jumped over the fence into the field and ran off, panic ensued as the fawn couldn't follow and it frantically ran backwards and forwards along the cliff path looking for a way through, we stood watching with bated breath until eventually 1/2 mile further along it found a way through. I quickly got my camera out but I was too late they were gone, I consoled myself with a shot of the afterglow of the sunset and the dramatic coast line.
It was 8:30pm and very dark when we arrived at our camp-site, just time to pitch our soaked tents and get down to the pub for some supper. On aching legs and sore feet it felt like a 3 mile round trip to the pub in the dark and across the fields but it was worth it.
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