Stone Creek to Patrington 25.9.24

Posted on by
10

Our taxi drops us near the Coastguard Cottages at Stone Creek – last time we were here we turned right, this time it’s left. In front of us are a few small boats, beached on the muddy banks of the creek – I notice a car.

Hunting around for the path I notice a grizzled middle aged man in a boiler suit loping towards us. I shout “Excuse me, is this the footpath?” pointing to a narrow gap in the bushes. “The footparth” he says with a twinkle in his eye, “Is that the footparth you’re looking for Madam?” It takes me a couple of seconds before I realise he’s mocking my southern accent – northerners would of course pronounce “path” with the same vowel sound as in “apple” I burst out laughing and he grins, showing us exactly how few teeth he has left. He introduces himself as the Harbourmaster and we stop for a chat.

Moving on we pass a sign informing us that this is a permissive path through the rural parish of Sunk Island. Originally a sandbank in the middle of the Humber Estuary, the island was gradually built up by tidal deposits and became permanently above water in the late 16th century. It is now part of the mainland and is well known for its fertile soil.

Damian takes a minute to check his phone………….

The path widens – marshes on the right, agriculture on the left.

Tufts of marsh grasses sit serenely in the still water……………

And then……what are these? Too large to be cow vertebrae………and how did they get here in the middle of the path? A mystery.

Further up the path stands what can only be called an obelisk, complete with its stainless steel plaques, marking the position of the Greenwich Meridian.

Longitude zero – good place to stop and have a rest.

A mile or so up the path, a couple of students from Hull University are measuring the carbon capture capacity of the marsh – or at least I think that’s what he said.

Soon we will have to turn inland as there is no easy way of getting across Patrington Channel.

The pumping station is armed to the teeth with spikes and tall gates and even if we were prepared for a mild impaling, the bog on the other side of it looks impassable. OK ok – we’ll turn round.

Back we go with the drain on our right, down a farm track heading up to a minor road which will take us to our destination. Off to the left a couple of diggers are performing circus tricks – it looks like they are laying the foundations of another embankment.

Another mile and we are approaching Patrington Haven – home to a substantial holiday park where we tried to find a pint and some food last night. Unfortunately the restaurant had burned down some months ago, so all hospitality moved into a marquee AND it was bingo night – didn’t really fancy it.

In the middle of the village stands a strange little building with its own war memorial. Built as a chapel for the Primitive Methodists in 1852, it has obviously been through a few facelifts in its time with rather unhappy results. Primitive Methodists were formed in 1811 as an offshoot of the main Wesleyan Methodist Church. They owe their Evangelical nature to the American movement of the same name, encouraging boisterous camp meetings and full equal status for men and women. The Primitive Methodists were the first to allow the ordination of women to full time ministry.

From here it is just a a short hop to Patrington where we are staying tonight.

Distance: 10 miles

Fraisthorpe Sands to Hornsea 24.7.24

Posted on by
3

We are back at Fraisthorpe Sands turning right this time………Damian waits for me to tie my bootlaces.

Despite the overcast sky there are quite a few families braving the weather – maybe they know something I don’t…

The usual mouldering relics of second world war defences………..

And in the distance a couple of pony riders. As I grew up in mid Wales there was not much chance of galloping along the beach – we had hills – but I have done it here in Denmark and there is nothing better.

The beach empties of people and we are alone……………………

After about two miles we are faced with the Barmston Main Drain which crosses the beach from the cliffs to the sea. As it is low tide we can easily get around the drain but it is at this point that I feel we should move up onto the cliffs as we are not sure of any access points ahead and I don’t want to get stranded.

We clamber up from the beach to join a permissive path which runs along the cliff edge. This leads us to a small caravan park called the Criftins where the effects of coastal erosion are very clear. The concrete pads where caravans once stood are now empty, their drainage pipes hang limply from the sticky clay of the disintegrating cliffs.

A little later we pick our way carefully across the remains of a road…….

In the past few weeks we have been walking on the Holderness Coast, which is the fastest eroding coastline in Europe – it erodes at a rate of 4.5 meters a year. Roads, houses and caravans have been lost to the waves, as have safe footpaths down to the beach.

However, as walking along the beach will be so much quicker and more pleasant than following unreliable footpaths or roads, we now decide to go back to the beach down a boat launch road from the edge of the caravan site.

And from here on we are on the sand – we pass Cobble Gap and Skipsea, although we don’t see anything much apart from the roofs of caravans close to the cliff edge.

At one point we reach Withow Gap, where the cliffs are relatively low, so we scramble up and find a spot for lunch. It is a relief to be lying on warm grass and flowers after the slightly gloomy atmosphere of the debris on the beach and the crumbling cliffs.

After lunch it’s back to the beach and it’s only after a couple of miles that I start worrying again about getting off it. It should be possible to walk all the way to Hornsea before high tide but you never know………………

So…….as we walk past Skirlington caravan site I am relieved to see that there is a clear rocky path winding up from the beach to the top of the cliffs, so if we can’t climb up at Atwick, which is the next village, we can always come back.

On we go…………… drainage pipes dangling hopelessly from the cliffs to our right.

At one point it looks like some attempt is being made to create an access path, but I’m sure it will be no match for the next unexpected storm surge in the North Sea.

We meet a couple handing hands, skipping merrily towards us – they are not locals and have no idea whether there is safe passage at Atwick. We decide to turn round (or rather I do, Damian is a little braver than me).

Back we go to the rocky cliff path at Skirlington, which takes us up to the caravan site where we wiggle our way through onto a marked footpath called Long Lane. And that is what it is – a long straight trail through fields. running parallel to the coast. We pass a wonky trig point – research tells me it has been moved back from the cliff edge to save it.

Long Lane comes to an end at a minor road – I look left and see the familiar warning sign.

We turn right and into yet another caravan site – two men are having a lively conversation so we wait until they’re finished and then ask for directions. The map does not show a clear path into Hornsea but local knowledge can be invaluable. To our delight the site owner says yes, there is a clear path all the way – we just need to walk through a couple of fields first. We start walking through the site…

It even has its own pill box….

When we come to the first field it is not clear what to do – there is a line of downtrodden grain through the field but it doesn’t look too promising. A couple of minutes later I hear a shout – Damian has found a clear path on the edge of the field so off we go.

A little later we come to what’s marked as an official footpath which circumvents a boatyard and carries on into the outskirts of Hornsea.

We are both very tired now and it’s difficult not to succumb to the invitation to rest, but we still have a mile or so to go until we reach the town centre.

Twenty minutes later we reach the Post Office – I take a picture of this quintessentially British phenomenon before we head off to the pub.

Distance: 12 miles

North Landing to Reighton Sands 22.7.24

Posted on by
4

Damian is back and we’re heading south again to North Landing, located on the north side of Flamborough Head. It is part of a nature reserve and as such has a cafe, a carpark, toilets and information boards. The beach is accessed down a steep narrow path but that’s not where we’re going. It’s nice to see chalk cliffs again.

We turn left and follow the cliff path to the neighbouring bay and more information boards.

Here is what I found interesting……………

The lobster fishermen used boats based on the shape of the Viking longboats……I like the name.

The cliff path is well marked and easy to walk on and also affords views of quite unusual rock formations – lots of nabs (headlands) and nooks (coves). The sky is also brightening now – it’s going to be a lovely day.

After about three miles we come across what looks very much like a close circuit camera, fenced in on a small promontory and trained on the cliffs opposite us.

It turns out this is part of a seabird research project by the RSPB to study the productivity of Razorbills, Guillemots, Kittiwakes and Gannets. Well, from the racket I’d say these hundreds of birds, ducking and diving around nests on the cliff face, are very productive indeed. It takes me right back to the Grand Hotel only here it’s very much in keeping with the surroundings.

This cliff face is studded with squawking seabirds …………

We have reached Bempton Cliffs, which unbeknown to us is the site of one of the UK’s top wildlife spectacles. All along the cliff top viewing galleries have been built and there are quite a few people about, some shouldering cameras with impressive zoom lenses. I later find out there is a visitor centre a short distance inland with road access.

We have of course forgotten to bring the binoculars………………..

We do see lots of sleek gannets gliding through the air and then suddenly diving into the sea – but no blue headed ones.

More information boards describe the practice of “climming” – scaling down the cliff face to raid nests for eggs. I presume the hard hat is to lessen the impact of a sudden dive bombing by angry birds. Brave men…..

It brings to mind the St Kildans, the  ‘bird people’ who also abseiled cliffs (and climbed up sea stacks) to collect gannet and fulmar eggs, or in their case, also to capture fulmars to eat and milk their oil.  Sadly, the St Kildans could not sustain their way of life and asked to be evacuated by the British Government who agreed and they abandoned the island in 1930. This is the official story – I think the jury is still out as to whether they went willingly or were forced to leave.

But it’s time to move on – by now we are a little peckish and although we pass quite a few benches, there are still too many people around. The path now leads us away from the cliff edge, winding round in a loop called Low Fields. After what seems like a very long time we decide to stop for lunch at the next half acceptable spot, which happens to be a triangulation point – the highest point for miles around – although it doesn’t feel very high.

Moving on after a very welcome lunch (food always tastes better when eaten outdoors) we find ourselves in a very different landscape and almost lose the path in fields of swaying corn.

But then it becomes clearer…………….here is Damian talking to the animals again, problem is they never seem to want to talk to him.

And confirmation of the path – this signpost hasn’t got round to including King Charles and probably never will.

Half a mile on we veer off the path and wander through the caravans of Reighton Sands Holiday Park until we reach the very spot where I finished my walk from Filey a few days ago. The tractor and trailer stand ready to transport people down to the beach but it’s now late in the day so there are not many takers.

Distance: 9 miles

Filey to Reighton Sands 20.7.24

Posted on by
8

Filey is a 20 minute bus ride from Scarborough station and costs me next to nothing – and if I hadn’t lost my freedom pass in Grimsby it would be nothing. That aside I am taking full advantage of the £2 bus fare cap scheme brought in by the Conservatives (would you believe) and due to run out in December this year. It appears to apply all over England and Wales except in London, Greater Manchester and West Yorkshire, who all have their own schemes.

Continue reading →