Two Northumberland entries today, the first is Warkworth Castle. A grand old castle dating back from the 11th century. The tropical northern weather and the occasional civil war has taken some toll but it’s still mighty impressive.
The second castle is one of our favourites. Set just a few feet from the North Sea, we have Dunstanburgh Castle. Very much a ruin, but what a location. You walk from a beautiful seaside fishing village of Craster.
Along the coast…
And after a couple of miles to the remote old castle.
You read these epic driving blogs, taking days, weeks to travel across a land. Less so epic here. On a good afternoon you can get from North East to North West coasts, the biggest challenge being the never ending motorway roadworks.
This week we kinda did that mini adventure. A trip from our Yorkshire home to the North West edge, Liverpool….. Took just over two hours.
Then 2 days later we stood on the North East edge of England. From our home, just over 40 minutes….
122 miles apart. A famous old city port versus a small old fishing village. Vastly different accents, same WIND….
Nearly the longest day and it still doesn’t feel like it’s nearly summer. A walk along the bitingly cold Yorkshire Coast.
These are really unstable cliffs. After high tides and especially after storms, you will see intrepid fossil hunters scouring the base of the rocks for fragments of a past world. Locally it’s known as the Jurassic Coast.
No T-Rex hunting for us this day, way too cold. Hands much better employed stuck in the pockets avoiding frost bite. Is it really the longest day in a few hours…. As we eventually headed back to the warmth of the car we passed a bare chested Surfer marching briskly towards his inevitable frozen doom in the North Sea.
“You might need a few more layers on….”
“Probably. The secret is to not scream too loudly and look like you enjoying it.”
“I thought the secret was to surf somewhere way warmer”
“It is but then you don’t get to surf round Icebergs. Plus if it was warmer my wife would have me cutting the grass….”
Stood on Saltburn Pier today and it was 3C. As the wind howled across the North Sea, I dread to think what the wind chill factor was. Apparently it’s still Spring here. Thermal T-shirt, thick jumper and a down jacket simply wasn’t enough. We were FROZEN. But then again as Basil Fawlty once said when told there was always someone worse off than yourself
“REALLY, I’d love to meet them as I could do with a b…..y laugh”
We weren’t those poor souls trying to SURF. We heard frequent bloody curdling screams as they entered the water and that wasn’t a monster JAWS shark causing that. I’m sure I saw an iceberg at one stage, or maybe that was a surfer who had spent more than a minute in those frigid waters. We passed one surfer sat in his car, with the heating full on, holding a steaming cup of something, who was uncontrollably shaking….
Yes good old Saltburn. An old Yorkshire coast childhood haunt of mine. Every year my so called school would do a sponsored beach walk from Redcar to Saltburn and back again. The teachers spent the child free day in the Hydro pub. Don’t tell them but quite a few of the pupils had curtailed the walk after 100 yards and were in the Dolphin Pub, a bit further down the beach. I usually made it to Saltburn as then I got to ride the little funicular up the cliff. Back then that was as near as this part of the world got to Disneyland.
Sadly last years Oscar nominated movie called Saltburn had nothing to do with this little coastal town. Shame that, it might have livened up the movie a lot. I would like to see them attempt a lot of the raunchy stuff they apparently got up to in that movie anywhere near Saltburn beach, in these temperatures. Maybe that surfer sat shaking in his car had tried to recreate some movie scenes and spectacularly failed….
It’s a steep old walk out the village.. try that when it’s icy.
More tropical Yorkshire weather, more time by the coast. This time beautiful, old Robin Hood’s Bay. Welcome to the eighteenth centuries busiest Yorkshire smuggling port. Maybe the name came from this being the legendary ‘give to the poor’ hero’s seaside refuge, maybe it came from local fairy folklore. One thing is for sure, if it was Robin Hood or a Forest Elf, I hope they got wrapped up warm. It’s a place to blow away the cobwebs, it’s a place for the thickest of thick woolly jumpers.
Many many years ago, a young me came here on an outward bounds course. It’s funny how time expands and enhances the memories. I remember vividly climbing during the middle of the night, through a dark, waste deep, raging stream filled tunnel. A tunnel that went on for several deadly miles, finally after one of the greatest feats of human endurance, emerging onto the windswept beach. From this very exit…
Unfortunately it doesn’t appear to be very waste deep…. and pacing the tunnel out, it’s probably 50 yards long at most….
Another dawn start by the Yorkshire coast. No albatross this morning but so worth the 3.30am alarm call.
Birdwatching and an attempt to re-establish social bridges.
It’s the perfect time for Hawklad to do a bit of bird spotting. You have the site largely to yourself. The sound of the sea and thousands of birds is very soothing. It’s a good way for him to focus on something different. Something which distracts him from those daily anxieties. He can feel at one with nature.
Then the occasional early morning birdwatcher turned up. It’s a big site so they kept their distance. For a couple of hours no one came within 100 yards of us. Maybe I’m scaring them off – early morning starts do nothing for my granite like features. Definitely a facefor radio. As more birders took up position Hawklad became less relaxed. More anxious glances over the shoulder. Making sure no one is approaching.
By 8am more people are turning up. Still maybe no more than a few dozen in total. Too many for Hawklad so we leave and head back home. Giving people wide berths on paths. Picking the least busy route through a slowly filling up car park. Getting back to the car then using had wash for several minutes. Carefully rinsing the mouth out with mouthwash.
This still feels like a million miles from venturing back into shops and enclosed spaces. So far away from crowds. A return to school is potentially just a month away. The first step has to be feeling comfortable with crowds and strangers outside. Only then can the ficus shift to inside matters.
Another step forward but I’m not sure how much more of those social bridges were built.
It feels like it’s been an eternity since we last took in some seaside air. I think it’s just under two years. TWO YEARS…. That must be my longest ever inland run. Especially not great when you are a seaside child, born on the North Yorkshire coast. One day with patience.
This is Whitby. Here’s a few random facts about this beautiful little town.
Captain James Cook lived here and his famous ship the Endeavour was built here.
Whitby has some of the best Fish and Chips on the planet.
The black semi-precious stone Whitby Jet.
Bram Stoker developed the idea of his Dracula book here. The opening chapters are set here. Also the idea of Dracula taking on the form of a huge black dog is based on local legends.
When I was a kid we would come here on a day trip by train. While my parents went about doing parenting things, I would be sent up the 199 steps to The Abbey which is in the background of the second photo. My job was to hunt for Dracula’s grave. I never did find it but maybe next time.
I’m not sure that time wasting parenting excuse would have any chance of success with our son. More chance of him convincing me to go. These days we come to Whitby for the chips, the ice cream, the beautiful beach and a bit of dinosaur fossil hunting. This part of the country has been named Jurassic Coast for the number of discoveries it yields. This is one of ours.
So let’s hope it’s not long before the fossil hunting is back underway.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 