UK COAST TO COAST ADVENTURE JOURNAL | Day 14

There was no slowness to my brain waking on day 14 of our coast to coast hiking adventure. I went from comfortably asleep in my little Vango Banshee in the garden of a farmhouse near Littlebeck to completely awake as my phone played my chosen twinkly alarm sound at me. My mind immediately whirred into action and a solid and excited thought appeared in my frontal lobe… Today was the day. The last day. It was time to finish this thing, and firmly cross this two-week, 200-mile hike off my bucket list.

But to get to the finish line we first had 12 more miles to hike. And while it wasn’t a long day in comparison with some of the others we’d had on this adventure, I was not complacent. I knew I was going to have to earn that paddle in the North Sea later that day.

Aim to Finish

Our aim for this very important Saturday was not to rush, but to soak up the last few miles and make the most of them. The map and guidebook promised some varied views and terrain, and plenty of interesting things to keep our eyes happy.

Starting at Intake Farm near Littlebeck, our last day hike of the trip seemed like it would give us a little taste of all the landscapes we’d seen over the previous 13 days. Okay, so maybe there wouldn’t be skyscraper mountains or bouldery scrambles, but we would get moorland, cute villages, squelchy bogs, cliff top views, steep hills, dense woodland, running water, and ancient history.

Our plan was to try and reach Robin Hood’s Bay by mid-afternoon, so we had plenty of daylight left to enjoy this famous fishing village before leaving the trail behind and returning to any kind of normal life. We wanted to be able to make the most of the finish as we had done at the start (read my day one post), with a ceremonial throwing of those pebbles we’d being carrying, dipping our toes in the sea, and enjoying fish and chips out of the paper.

UK COAST TO COAST HIKE ADVENTURE JOURNAL

Day 14 | Saturday 23 October | Littlebeck to Robin Hood’s Bay

I was right to go to bed the previous night with all my layers on, it was a very cold one. Thankfully I did manage to get comfortable in my sleeping bag and had a reasonable sleep. I woke up a few times, once by rain in the early hours which hadn’t been forecast, but to be honest even after years of enjoyable camping I still rarely sleep straight through when in a tent.

We’d booked breakfast for 8am and so we were able to have a leisurely morning, getting everything packed up and ready before we headed into the guest lounge. I made the most of our last breakfast on the trail by having my fill of yogurt and granola and, you guessed it, poached eggs on toast.

Intake Farm really was a glorious place to spend our last night camping on the coast to coast. I’m planning a complication post just about the places we stayed, to help anyone planning their own trip, but I don’t need to wait for that post to recommend this one to you. Judith was a wonderful host, we were very well looked after, and importantly were made to feel very welcome indeed.

We paid £31 each for “camp and care” (how Judith referred to providing the pitch, all-night access to an indoor toilet/washing facilities, a hot shower with a massive loaner towel, tea and cake on arrival, and keeping that log burner on for us all evening), along with that amazing home cooked dinner and hearty breakfast. Intake Farm also offers bed and breakfast rooms, if you prefer.

Littlebeck Wood

I don’t think it’ll be a surprise to any of you who’ve been following my adventure journal posts that I started the day feeling tired and quite sluggish. The 12 miles ahead felt like both nothing and everything – completely doable given the promised terrain, but I knew I would be done in by the time the finish line arrived.

We left Intake Farm at around 9am, first walking down through the farm into Littlebeck village. Apparently, there is self-service tea and coffee inside the church, but we’d had our fill thanks to Judith so we didn’t investigate to see if it was open even first thing on a Saturday morning.

From there we headed into the beautiful ancient Little Beck Wood, a designated nature reserve, which turned into Scarry Wood, and then Great Wood. It’s really no secret that I adore walking in the trees, and I was so happy to be able to explore this glorious woodland on this walk. It was more than a little muddy in places, but worth every slippery step. It also wasn’t flat, but it wasn’t tough going.

Mines, Hermits, and Waterfalls

These three conjoined woodlands weren’t just about the old oak trees and wildlife-filled undergrowth. Not long after entering Little Beck Wood we came across what looked like a cave mouth, which turned out to be the entrance to a disused aluminium sulphate mine.

We walked up the steep flight of wooden steps and up onto the top, to a large spoil heap which had another cave underneath. Post hike research tells me that Littlebeck Alum Works were operational as far back as 1650, and are known to be one of the earliest in England. Now you know!

Our next attraction on this woodland walk was The Hermitage, a cave-like shelter carved out from a single sandstone boulder. Inside there is a single room with a stone shelf, and yes, it did smell of pee. Above the entrance is etched “GC 1790”, which is said to refer to George Chubb. A folly, The Hermitage was apparently commissioned by a local schoolmaster to help out Chubb, an out-of-work seaman.

Coffee by a Waterfall

The third and final particularly interesting feature of this part of the walk was Falling Foss, an attractive, thundering, 20-metre-high waterfall found hidden in the woodland. I say hidden, it’s pretty well right on the coast to coast path, and even if it isn’t super obvious through the thick trees, the noise of the water certainly gives away its presence. It’s a bit of a tourist attraction, helped by the fact there’s a rather lovely tearoom right next to it.

It was such a beautiful spot in the middle of the woodland, we couldn’t help but stop at Falling Foss Tea Garden. It wasn’t open when we got there, but we were immediately drawn in by the setting, fairy lights, wooden gazebos, and the fact we could sit and watch robins and chaffinch feed with the soundtrack of falling water, and so waited a few minutes for the coffee machine to warm up. We might have only walked two miles so far, and really had only just eaten breakfast, but a large latte was just what I needed at this point in proceedings.

Coffee consumed and birds fed, it was time to continue on our way and, sadly, leave the woodland. After following the river for a short while longer, picking our way through the mud, we headed up hill and onto a road. As with the previous day, there would be a bit of road walking, but it would be in shorter stretches which were a bit easier on the feet.

We came across a herd of Belted Galloway cows with their very young calves – they must have been just days old. We’d seen quite a number of autumn calves on this hike, and until now I didn’t realise that farmers might choose to breed to this timing. Another thing I learnt.

Return of the Bog

We were still within the North York Moors National Park, and even though there were more roads and villages in this area, there were still areas of heath and grassland to traverse, open and exposed to the elements. Unlike up on Blakey Moor and Glaisdale, here there were no nicely made limestone pavements to help keep our feet dry. Our guidebook warned us it could be quite bad, so we donned our gaiters one last time, just to make sure we didn’t get wet feet on our last day, and hoped for the best as we picked our way over the moor.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I just don’t know how Jenni bounces her way over boggy ground without losing momentum or sinking her feet in the sludge. I’m SO slow when it’s like this underfoot, finding it energy sapping and the opposite of fun. My heavy feet make me feel like I am constantly off balance and I will fall in waist deep if I lose concentration for just a second. It’s quite disconcerting, and I really don’t deal with it very well.

The bogs here are actually slacks, an old Norse term that means shallow valley that is synonymous with the Fylingdales area through which we were walking. The coast to coast path actually crosses a bunch of slacks between here and the finish line, but the one that gave us most problems at this point in the hike was Sneaton Slacks.

Over the Boardwalk

At one point there was a beautifully well-made and quite wonderful board walk. Honestly, I don’t know who built it, but I think I love them. Just like the stone flags that have been installed on some parts across Nine Standards Rigg, manmade additions to the natural landscape like these are very much appreciated by this clumsy and dry-feet-loving hiker. Thank you. Thank you a thousand times.  

But of course, the boardwalk didn’t last the whole way, and we definitely had our fair share of squelchy marshland to traverse. At one point there was a foot bridge marked on the map, but there was definitely no such thing in reality. I can’t say it was as bad as that walk on day seven, not in terms of boggy expanse, or in terms of my mood, but it was hard going.

I was very glad indeed to make it back to tarmac at Middle Rigg, even if that meant the opposite for our feet – back to the solid and unforgiving surface that provided no softness underfoot.

The Cleveland Way

We followed said tarmac down to High Hawsker, choosing not to divert to the pub in favour of chips when we reached Robin Hood’s Bay. It was, in the main, a narrow and quiet country lane undulating past farmland and a few rural business, but after Hawsker there was a short section of B-road which was quite unpleasant. At least we weren’t on that for long, turning off down a track to and through Northcliffe Holiday Park, a sprawling and well-manicured static caravan site overlooking the sea.

Once we’d worked our way through the caravans, we found ourselves back on the Cleveland Way, which we’d last seen on our way to the Lion Inn on day 12. Most importantly, we now had a clear and wonderful view of the North Sea, 60 metres below us and out into the distance.

We still had three miles to go, which other coast to coasters have documented were not a leisurely end to the hike, mainly due to the psychological difficulty of being so close yet so far from the end point. But at least we were here, right on top of the sea.

Given that we were walking on a path hugging the coast, it was more than a little undulating, and more than a little muddy. Even with the very slippery steep sections, where our hiking poles gave us a distinct advantage over the day trippers we came across, it was nice walking.

With just one hour to go, our thoughts turned to reflection. We shared some of our best and worst moments with each other, enjoying the opportunity to take a few moments to solidify some of the memories before we officially completed the experience (I won’t share those thoughts here as I have a post planned later to do just that).  

Robin Hood’s Bay

It was around 2pm when we walked into Robin Hood’s Bay, right into the middle of a very busy car-and people filled October Saturday in this touristy old fishing village. Something of a shock to the system (as was paying 40p to use a very unclean toilet…), but we did our best not to let that put us off as we walked down to the sea to enjoy the fruits of our labour.

Jenni’s husband Dave had come to meet us, and the three of us headed onto the beach to complete the hike in the traditional way – by taking our boots off and having a paddle in the shallow waves, and by throwing the pebbles we’d chosen in St Bees into the sea. The water was so very cold, and we didn’t last long before we wanted dry and warm feet again, but it was a lovely and fitting way to mark the finish line.

After taking a few too many photos of the very flatly lit seaside scene (shame the blue skies didn’t stick around for the afternoon), we continued our celebrations by getting salt and vinegar covered fish and chips and sitting on the harbour wall to eat them.

As I write now it feels a bit anti-climactic, but in all honesty, it was a perfect way to finish this hike – taking some time to sit, eat, enjoy the view, people watch, and smile to each other about our achievement. As everyone else around us bustled around, we took some time to quietly acknowledge the biggest walk of our lives (so far…).

Home Comforts

Of course, the problem with finishing Wainwright’s coast to coast hike in the sea at a fishing village which sits on a very steep hill, is that once we’d had our fill of the atmosphere at Robin Hood’s Bay, we had to walk back up said hill to the car. By this time my legs had already decided we were done, and it was much harder than it ought to have been to get them to move again.

Dave took us to the local taxi office where we paid them £3 each to retrieve our bags, which I guess meant we had now completely left the trail. From there we made a quick stop at Jenni’s dad’s for tea and cake (the last day really was all about the food), before heading to Jenni’s house to make the most of some real home comforts.

Given that my home in Gloucestershire was three trains away, I was grateful to Jenni and Dave for putting me up that night in their beautiful woodland home. I showered the grime off, put on the clean set of clothes I’d left behind at the start (oh the luxury!), ate Dave’s home cooked toad in the hole, and spent the evening relaxing in front of the television. Life really is full of simple pleasures.

Reflections on Coast to Coast Day 14

And that was it. We were done. Two weeks earlier we’d left St Bees in Cumbria, all the way over on the west coast of England, and on day 14 we dipped our toes in the North Sea at Robin Hood’s Bay. We’d walked all the way, a little over 200 miles, taking in three National Parks, and diligently carrying a pebble from one side of the country to the other.

Thinking about day 14 as a standalone hike, it was a very decent day out. I mentioned at the top of this adventure journal that we were expecting a day of varied terrain and heaps of interest, and we certainly had that. Starting at Intake Farm, we had woodland, waterfalls, ancient history, open moorland, bog, farmland, coastal paths, and more.

The 12 miles we walked from Littlebeck to Robin Hood’s Bay were up there with the prettiest of the whole coast to coast walk, and it’s not only the fact it was the last day on the trail that means I remember this day with fondness. Yes, even with those boggy miles in the middle somewhere – call them type two fun!

My body and brain were very tired indeed, and I remember telling Jenni with two miles to go that I very nearly done in, but it was a happy hiking day. Oh, and I perhaps should acknowledge that we ate more meals than was wholly necessary in one day, but I’m not going to apologise for that. I really am fuelled by food in more than the required sense.

Coast to Coast Complete

In all honesty and on reflection, I’m not sure I liked Robin Hood’s Bay much. I mean, it is certainly a beautiful little old fishing village, but it was very busy with people and was full of touristy shops which were a far cry from our experience over the previous two weeks. A bit of a culture shock, perhaps, or just that in my subconscious I didn’t really want the adventure to end.    

While I spent that night in comfort in Jenni’s spare room, I wasn’t home yet. In my journal that evening I noted that I hadn’t really worked out what I thought and felt about ending this particular adventure yet, knowing that I had one more day of asking my body and mind to work hard before I could truly call this thing finished. Getting home to Gloucestershire the following day was a bit of a mammoth operation, so I’ll come back to all that in my final journal post next week.

Back in my day zero post, I also promised a (shorter) second series of blogs covering specific topics such as my gear, where we camped, my favourite views, that kind of thing. Those should be great if you are wanting some hints and tips for your own coast to coast hike (ooo when do you go?!).

Why not subscribe to Splodz Blogz to see what else I get up to in the meantime? Bung your email address in the box over on the right, and I’ll see you very soon!