Captain's Log

Coast To Coast

Four train and one bus journey, with very little time between the connections, didn’t leave me much hope of reaching Robin Hood’s Bay in time for a scheduled 10:00 am start of my Coast To Coast (C2C) Venture. I was therefore pleasantly amazed to find that when I stepped off the bus at the Yorkshire seaside resort, I was only a few seconds late. The journey had been flawless. I hoped my C2C would be too. The double decker bus didn’t take me down to the beach itself. This was a good thing since the road was single lane and had a 30% gradient. This did mean though that I had to walk down to the sea front. My legs felt like those of a Slinky toy as they made exaggerated steps on the steep descent. If there hadn't been information boards saying otherwise, you’d think that Robin Hood’s Bay was some sort of specially built ‘theme’ village, with its tiny streets, alleys and houses. Every square centimetre seems to have been allocated some purpose. Tiny cafes and novelty shops stand guard along the meandering high street. I reached the sea front and found The Bay Hotel. A sign above a door announced ‘Wainwright’s Bar’. I pottered over to have a closer look and found another sign indicating:
‘The End - Coast To Coast Walk - St Bees To Robin Hood’s Bay - 192 Miles.’
Well, that was fine; if this was the end, maybe I could get back on a bus to Scarborough and then take four trains back home. 

Alfred Wainwright set the ball rolling when he published his Coast To Coast guide. The rambler was a grumpy old sod, who had too much time on his hands and so devised a walking route from the west coast of England to its east. I’d steered clear of walking the route before since it seemed convoluted and I thought the challenge would be keeping one's sanity through lack of signage. Fortunately, the C2C had been made a National Trail on the 26th of March 2026 with an implied promise that the signage would be top notch. I decided to give the trail a try. There were a few reasons why I decided to walk the trail in reverse (see Coast To Coast WeBo Venture), with the main one being that the four trains and a bus journey to Robin Hood’s Bay was far quicker than the five train journeys required to get to St Bees. It’s customary on this walk to baptise one’s feet in the North Sea and then pick up a pebble to transport to the Irish Sea at St Bees, where the pebble would be given a new home. It did make me wonder if any pebbles had encountered double crossings, or maybe even triple ones. Disappointingly, the tide was out which meant I’d have to walk out quite a way to the sea for my boot baptism, which would add another half mile to my total mileage tally.

It was actually quite troublesome to find a pebble of a suitable size and weight. I eventually recruited a small triangular, black pebble that looked rather like a small shark fin. A couple of women wearing hiking boots were going through the same ceremony a few yards away. It’s a weird world. I turned around and started walking back to the village. My Coast To Coast Venture was underway. 

Robin Hood's Bay

Or rather it wasn't. By the time I reached the slipway to the beach and saw that 30% gradient road disappearing into a hillside of doll’s houses, I lost some enthusiasm for the challenge. I decided my body needed some encouragement and so I headed for the nearest cafe and ordered carrot cake and coffee. I squeezed myself into a small chair and table set that had been sportingly placed outside of the cafe’s front. The street was so narrow that I had to breathe in when an SUV drove past. The village was certainly an unusual place. How anybody can live in those tiny houses was a mystery to me. I looked up why the place was called Robin Hood’s Bay and found that there’s no evidence that the robber ever actually visited the village. Well, just like the rest of the wells, bow stones, graves and airports around the country, Robin Hood was all a myth. The village's name was probably derived from folklore in a tale where Robin Hood travels to Yorkshire, becomes a fisherman, defeats French pirates, and uses the treasure to build homes for the poor. Hmmm…yet another Robin Hood likely tale. I set off on my second attempt up that 30% gradient hill and even made it to the top with an exhausting slow trudge. The day was warm and sunny and despite the recent coffee, I felt dehydrated. I stopped off at the Post Office/grocery store and bought a bottle of Diet Pepsi. I sat at a patio table in front of the shop to drink it. The two female hikers whom I'd met searching for pebbles on the beach, were sitting at another patio table. It looked like they were struggling as much as me. Over an hour had passed since I'd arrived at Robin Hood's Bay and I’d only managed to knock half a mile off the 190 miles of the Coast To Coast. I was going to have to buckle down and get my act together. 

Coastal Walk

I headed north along the coastal path. The path now incorporated 3 National Trails: Coast To Coast, Cleveland Way and England Coast Path. There was a great view along the coast and out to sea, but gradually a sea fret drifted in and started veiling the landscape. I met my first C2C EaBos heading towards Robin Hood’s Bay. Not surprisingly, they all seemed buoyant.
‘The Lake District was the hardest bit’ was their consensus from my questions. Having ascended that 30% road out of Robin Hood’s Bay, I was tempted to challenge that assertion. 

There were plenty of birds along the route, enjoying the cliff edge shrubbery. For once, I was making good time. I was actually clicking off some miles on a gap in my England North East Coast Path Venture. This was 6 miles of coastline between Robin Hood’s Bay and Widdy Head. The C2C only covered 4 miles of these though. I was greatly tempted to out-and-back those 2 miles in order to fully close the gap on my England North East Coast Path Venture, but given my procrastination at the start of today’s walk, I really didn’t have the time. When I reached Maw Wyke Hole, the C2C’s inland turning point, I’d already decided that a gap would still have to remain in my Coast Path Venture, but it would be 4 miles smaller. The mist was so thick now, that I wouldn’t have seen much anyway by continuing along the coast, anyway.

Hawsker

I walked through the middle of a static caravan park and out of the other side onto a country lane. I’d find that a lot of the C2C went along country lanes. I normally try to avoid walking on tarmac, but the C2C stretches were never long enough to be troublesome. I met more C2C EaBos. This trail was definitely popular. At the village of Hawsker I called in at another static caravan park that signage told me had a bar/café. I ordered a cheese and onion toastie and a pint. The woman behind the bar tried to get me interested in a C2C booklet that I could get stamped at various establishments along the C2C route. It seemed a bit of a marketing gimmick to me and so I declined the offer. I ordered a side salad with the toastie which turned out to be a few slices of Iceberg lettuce, half a dozen sections of celery and four green grapes. I’m not sure I’d really have classified it as a salad, not even a side one. It did cross my mind though that this was the third café/pub/shop I’d called at in the first 5 miles of my Venture. It would seem that in terms of luxuries, the C2C would definitely provide a different experience to my recent jaunt along the Pennine Way. 

First Moor

The country lane ended and the first moor of the North York Moors started. The trail followed a contour line on the Graystone Hills. To be honest, there wasn’t much of a hill and there wasn’t much of a moor. There had obviously been a wildfire in the area and the ground had been burnt back to soil in many areas. The place looked rather grim and desolate. C2C posts led me through the wasteland to the B1416 on its western side. I looked back over the moor and saw a walker in the far distance heading towards me. It looked like there might be another C2C WeBo following me.   

The B1416 can’t have been much of a fire break since the burnt sections continued onto Low Moor on the other side of the road. I could see the two women ahead who had set off from Robin Hood’s Bay at the same time. They must have passed me as I ate the mother of all side salads at Hawkser. I gradually gained distance on them as I crossed the moor, but they were still ahead of me as I reached a country lane on the other side. I looked back to see that the lone rambler had gained a significant distance on me over Low Moor. There seemed a purpose about the figure’s stride that reminded me of the Terminator. 

First Dale

The North York Moors must have been easy for God to create.
1. Dollop down a flat land plateau of earth to form the moors.
2. Scoop out long lines in the plateau to create the dales.
The C2C route gradually descended into the dale holding May Beck. I was within spitting distance of the two female ramblers when they diverted off trail into a carpark. They were being picked up by somebody in a car there. Pah! C2C section hikers. Bloody part-timers. Well, I nearly caught up with them. I looked behind me along the road, but couldn’t see the Terminator. The trail zagged back north and followed a pretty woodland trail following May Beck downstream. The trees provided some welcome shade from what had been a rather warm and sultry day. 

The Terminator

I’d only walked half a mile or so along the woodland trail when I heard some footsteps behind me. The Terminator had caught me up. Fortunately, he wasn't programmed to assisinate me. The Terminator’s one and only mission was to complete the C2C. Twice! Or rather that should be a C2C WeBo and then a C2C EaBo. The Terminator was a Personal Trainer in the real world and looked the part. He’d been doing some voluntary countryside work in Scotland, but had decided to do a C2C double crossing, once the midges arrived north of the border. It turned out that we were both heading to the Intake Farm campsite for the night and so we decided to walk the last couple of miles together. The Terminator had completed the C2C before and had B&Bed at the farm on that occasion. We proceeded down the woodland trail.  

We came across Falling Foss after a while, where May Beck tumbled over a 10 metre drop. The woodland obscured the view of it a little, but it didn’t look like an easy descent to its base, and so we carried on down the trail. The next feature was a curious hermitage carved out of a large boulder. An inscription above its entrance said ‘CG 1790.’ The constructor must have had too much time on his hands since the excavated interior of the boulder was huge. A low stone bench had been carved out around the base of its interior. We continued down the woodland trail until we reached the collection of houses known as Littlebeck. 

Intake Farm

Intake Farm was about half a mile off the C2C route at the end of a country lane. It was also high up on the hill from Littlebeck, which was a bit of a sting in the tale for the day. I managed to match the Terminator’s cadence up the hill and we entered a typical farm, yard and barn setting. My first impression was, ‘Oh, those two grey and white cats with their half dozen kittens were soooooo...cute.’ It was only when I got closer and saw their scowling glares,  that I realised that they were farm cats and probably meaner than your normal, urban moggy. I didn't attempt to stroke them. Unlike myself, the Terminator had had the foresight to pre-book a space for his camping pitch. The campsite was formed from the two lawns of the farm’s garden. There was only one other tent pitched; the occupants being a young Swiss couple who were C2C EaBos. Camping arrangements were managed by the lady of the house. She was jolly and provided us with tea and cake which I scoffed before pitching my tent. The campsite was well provisioned with an outhouse that had been converted into a small kitchen, toilet and shower. The Terminator and lady of the house were obviously familiar to each other from the Terminator's last visit. There was an England World Cup football match being played later in the evening and the Terminator got invited in the house to watch it. I got my tent pitched and my tea eaten just before it started spitting with rain. I escaped to the inside of my tent.  

It had been a great first day on my C2C WeBo Venture. It had started with an amazingly trouble free journey to the start. The haul up and down that 30% gradient road in Robin Hood’s Bay had been a bit of a chore though. I’d made good progress westwards and met the Terminator, who would turn out to be a friendly, intermittent and useful companion on the journey to St Bees.