We phone an Uber to take us to Staithes as there is no direct bus. The driver is from Irak and we get to hear a little of his story. Fleeing from the chaos in his country with his family, he managed a string of temporary jobs and eventually embarked on a four year Computer Science course at Hull University. After finishing a Masters, he now hopes to start a PhD. His wife has just recently completed her medical training and is now a qualified GP. Their two children are also planning to study Digital Learning and AI next year. It warms the cockles to meet such a resourceful family, taking refuge in the UK and working so hard to contribute to our society. Strangely enough his English is not great……………but then I am an English teacher and maybe a bit critical..

Our driver drops us at the bottom of the steep hill through the village and down to the harbour – it looks like it’s going to be a sunshiny day.

At this point we need water for the walk but the village seems to offer nothing but small cafes and gift shops and the pub is closed. As we dither, a man in a high viz jacket appears and we explain our predicament.

“Ah”, he says, “You can’t buy anything sensible down here but if you come with me I’ll get you some” We follow him up the street to his hideout where he presents us with two bottles of water from the local lifeboat stocks – he is a lifeboat volunteer.

He then proceeds to accompany us to where his boat is moored and to point us in the direction of the coast path. As we chat it becomes apparent that he is a bit fed up with summer let visitors draining the lifeblood out of the village – it is the same story in many of the coastal beauty spots around the country – but they bring money, so what to do? Lovely man….

We set off up the hill ……………..with one last look at the village nestled at the foot of the cliffs.

At the top of the climb we turn right, through a gate and on to the rough ground of the cliffs. Not long after, we stop to examine this piece of public art. The work of a local artist, the piece is made of galvanised steel and was designed to commemorate fifty years of existence for Boulby Mine, a 1,400 meter deep mine, opened in 1974 to exploit seams of potash (fertiliser) and rock salt for icy roads. The sculpture depicts a miner sitting at a “Bait Table” – “bait” being the slang word for a miner’s lunch pack. These tables are movable and can be placed at various different locations around the mine. We are told that under our feet lies a network of underground tunnels, 1,000 kms in length and an underground laboratory for the investigation of Dark Matter – all very Phillip Pullman. Boulby Mine has now stopped mining potash and salt and has turned its attention to the production of Polyhalite (another fertiliser) from a deep seam 1.5kms out to sea. It takes miners seven minutes to travel in a lift to the bottom of the mine.

My grandfather was a coal miner in Wales and my grandmother made double sure that none of her four boys would end up down the mine.

We are now on the Cleveland Way, which forms part of the King Charles III English Coast Path – still waiting for the joined up version….

A little later the landscape shows recognisable signs of alum quarrying – grey mounds of what looks like ash where there should be grass – I remember it from the cliffs around Ravenscar.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alum

We are by now starting to worry about the time – this has been such a lovely walk in the unexpected sunshine that we have maybe dawdled a little. Darkness will fall at 4pm and we haven’t reached the halfway point of our walk yet – even though we are on a clear path I do like to see where I’m putting my feet. Picking up the pace along Hummersea Cliffs, it doesn’t take long before we can see the long finger of Skinningrove jetty in the distance.

And a little later, a set of wooden steps cut into the face of the cliff that takes us down into the village.

At the bottom we find a bench for a snack and deliberate – do we carry on to Saltburn with the possibility of ending the walk in darkness, or wait til tomorrow to finish it? We decide to come back tomorrow and at a leisurely pace walk up the narrow road through the village to hopefully catch a bus.

In the late 19th century Skinningrove was a prosperous village benefitting from the mining of iron ore. This meant that the once beautiful wooded valley was now an area of slag heaps and polluted streams – the smell of sulphur in the air. Fortunately, when the mine closed in 1958 the community held together and worked on restoring the health of the valley.

There are very few people around today – only a few pigeon fanciers…

…………..and cheery garden gnomes.

Distance: 6 miles