We arrived in Scarborough yesterday and can’t wait to leave. I have booked two nights in The Grand Hotel, an enormous Victorian building that presides over the harbour and the beach – the nightly rate is reasonable and I quickly realise why.

The hotel’s website emphasises the fact that the hotel has been chosen as “one of Historic England’s seven wonders of the English seaside” I dread to think what the others are. This once revered establishment is now badly rundown and seems to cater solely for elderly passengers on organised coach trips, mostly from Scotland – nothing wrong with that but it does set the tone. The entrance hall, which is indeed architecturally magnificent, smells of mince. Flashing fruit machines and a plethora of English flags light the way to the lift which wobbles alarmingly on its way to the fifth floor – an obese herring gull bids us welcome from the window sill of our room which smells of seagull shit.

Hoping to find somewhere for food we wander down in the direction of the beach. The seafront is unreal, garish and dirty, children’s screams competing with the constant squawking of the seagulls, who menace the fish and chip stands – the pavements are covered in guano. We beat a hasty retreat and head for the town centre.

Returning to the hotel we stand outside, simultaneously fascinated and revolted by the armies of seabirds that have taken residence in the hotel. Every nook, crevice and windowsill, meticulously carved by Victorian craftsmen are being used as nesting places, and that as we stare, probably hundreds more gulls are being hatched. Photos a bit blurry as they are high up…..

Here’s a Utube video………..

Anyway, Damian has plans to escape all this to do something with headphones in London and I find another place to stay.

So, this is the first walk on my own for a long time and I get a send off from the top of the cliff lift which is accessed from Scarborough Spa – another intricate Victorian building but with not quite as many seagulls.

I say goodbye to Damian and head off up the cliff path only to get a little lost in South Cliff Gardens, a strip of well tended parkland with a complicated network of paths – I stop in the Italian Garden to consult the map.

I finally find the right path which will take me down to the coast and this takes me past this intriguing structure. Later research reveals that this is a Star Disk, one of the largest in the UK. Fibre optic terminals, which glow at night, have been laid out to represent the brightest stars visible in the northern sky above Scarborough. What a sight that must be……..

I am now on the Cleveland Way which also doubles as the England Coast Path, and I’m practically skipping along on this clear path in the morning sunshine.

The path now climbs up to the top of the cliffs with dense vegetation on both sides but soon I am directed inland to a short stretch of road walking.

The signs are clear…………….

I emerge out of the bushes onto a minor road and turn left, keeping my eyes skinned for a footpath to the left which will take me back to the coast. And here it is…..

Through the welcome cool of woodland………

And even more welcome toilets and food van at Cayton Sands.

Despite the fact that I hardly ever drink coffee as it gives me the heebie-jeebies, I nevertheless plumb for an iced latte which to my surprise is served with whipped cream on top. I am so flabbergasted I also meekly say yes to a shot of vanilla syrup – it is not super nice (as they say in Denmark).

My walk continues along the cliff tops of Canton Bay.

An information board brings me up short – is this about illegal immigrants or drugs? I conclude it must be drugs – it’s one thing to try your luck in a rubber dinghy across the English Channel but you wouldn’t last long out in the North Sea and anyway, where would they be coming from? Denmark? The Netherlands? I think not…………….

For the next four miles nothing much happens and there are very people about…..a series of cliffs appear and disappear under my boots – Gristhorpe, Newbiggin, North Cliff. I walk steadily enjoying the peace and warmth of the day. Only one thing starts to bother me – small piles of white dust that appear on the path at regular intervals. I don’t think it’s a good idea to touch the stuff and I never find out what it is ………………

At one point I walk very close to a caravan site – as I haven’t walked past any paths leading down to the sea I assume people holidaying here have no access – bit of a pity.

On I go – very obvious division of sediment here in this cliff – chocolate sponge with vanilla icing.

Completely alone – strange that no-one wants to go for a walk on such a lovely day.

Ah….here’s a family walking towards me – that must mean I’m not too far away from civilisation.

Yes – but are we nearly there?

i am now moving into Filey Country Park where I turn sharp right around the headland where the Yorkshire Wolds Way joins the party.

I reach the north end of the seafront at Filey where the tide is almost in – I move down on to the beach where people are busy picking up their belongings and heading for the town.

The girl in the ice cream kiosk responds readily to my request for directions – one of the two options she gives me is to go straight on “up the ravine” – I guess when you live with terrain typical of the region, it starts to become part of your vocabulary. I go for the other option – up some stone steps and past a pretty ornamental garden open to the public.

I then walk up the high street to find my bus back to Scarborough. This walk has been a joy compared to our most recent trials around the Humber and also refreshing to be walking alone again (no offence intended Damian).

Distance: 10 miles