Alum

My route to Robin Hood's Bay followed the national trail, The Cleveland Way. The path started taking me gradually downhill towards the coast. I could see Robin Hood's Bay in the far distance, a bank of terracotta tiles clinging to the hillside. I was soon at the remains of the Ravenscar Alum Works. Alum was used in the 16th century as a dye fixative. Look inland and you can see the quarries above the works where shale was removed in order to extract the alum. The quarries are overgrown now with vegetation, although a better view of them was available on my return journey along the Cinder Track. At its peak, 200 tonnes of urine were required every year as part of the alum extraction process. This was shipped in from London, Newcastle and Hull. I did wonder whether this is where 'Taking the piss' came from, but I was disappointed that I couldn't find any proof of that. The urine was added to burnt shale and left in leaching pits, to let the alum crystals settle out. In order to determine whether the optimum amount of alum had been extracted from the liquor, an egg could be floated in the solution. I'm not sure I'd like to have one of those in my egg and cress sarnie. 

Robin Hood's Bay

I wandered aimlessly around the village for a while, exploring some of the narrow streets and alleys. It is not a place I'd like to live. The houses are tiny and are so close that I was getting claustraphobic just walking around the place. The shops, pubs and cafes looked so small that I wondered whether they'd have enough space to hold stock or room to squeeze in customers. In one upstairs window offering a takeaway service (it wasn't clear about the nature of that service), I saw a skeleton waving. The natives seem a bit weird in Robin Hood's Bay. I considered the practicalities of living in a location like this. Where do you put your wheelie bin, and would Tescos do a home delivery? It might be quaint and quirky, but I think I'd soon tire of the impracticalities.   I was happier when I'd climbed uphill out of the old village and reached the large Victorian villas at the top. It was time to make my way back to Ravenscar and I headed for the track of the old railway line that used to run down the coast. 

Cinder Track

The path is known as the Cinder Track and has the advantage that it follows the contour of the hills between Robin Hoods Bay and Ravenscar, and so is flat and easy. The disadvantage of this route is that, because of the surrounding undergrowth, you don't get that much of a view. Things did improve nearer to Ravenscar where there were more opportunities to have superb, elevated views over to the sea. To celebrate my return to Ravenscar I bought a coffee at the National Trust Cafe, and then managed to spill half of it over my hand. Luckily the accompanying chocolate brownie remained unscathed during my coffee juggling act.

Ravenscar Radar Station

I'd got back to Ravenscar earlier than expected and so I decided to walk along the coastal path southwards to visit a WWII radar station. It was only an hours walk, there and back, and well worth it. The path ran quite close to the high cliffs giving dramatic views down to the sea. At one point, I watched a Crow and Kestrel have a close combat dog fight below me. They were both about the same speed, but the Kestrel was more manoeuvrable and was able to avoid any contact. The radar site consisted of half a dozen small buildings in a field. Information boards gave details of the function of each building. I was quite surprised to find the fuel store so close to the other buildings. Radar was developed from 1935 and by 1939 had been rolled out into the Chain Home early detection system. Ravenscar Radar Station was part of that system.

 I made my way back to Ravenscar. After a dodgy start, the day had turned into a bit of a classic. The walk had just about everything: great views, beach walking, quirky villages, cliff walking and plenty of historical interest.