Mud, Mud, Inglorious Mud

'An hour or so' Id thought. Hmmm. The 'or so' part of that estimate turned out to be a bit more than I reckoned. Storms Erin and Fergus had visited yesterday and overnight and had left behind a great deal of water. The coastal path resembled a Glastonbury field after 3 days of raving and a once in a 1,000 year thunderstorm. It was thick with mud. My feet were either sliding in all directions or stuck in a glutinous blob of muck. It didn't help that the track generally had a barbed fence on my right side and a vertical cliff on my left. To be fair, it was safe enough with a bit of concentration and care. The other thing was the route that initially looked reasonably flat and direct to Scarborough Castle, actually undulated quite a bit and weaved in and out of coves. It was all recompensed of course by the superb views of the cliffs that gradually illuminated red with the rising sun. It is a spectacular stretch of the coastline. 

Long Nab

At Long Nab I came across a small, white building perched on the edge of the cliff. I could see somebody inside it. A notice described its varied life. It had been originally built in 1927 as a coastguard station.  I was used as a mine spotting shelter during the second world war. Spotters would look for mines or torpedoes that would indicate the presence of enemy submarines in the Scarborough Channel sea lane. During the Cold War the site was linked to the Carrier Control Nuclear Warning System. In 1993 the building was taken over by birders and I presumed the fellow in there now was doing a bit of bird spotting. I think it must be a members-only affair since the place was locked up when I returned later in the day. 

There was another birding place at Scalby Lodge Pond. An information board said that it provided lodging for a variety of wild fowl and waders. I presumed the pond was the stretch of water about 200 metres inland. It was difficult to tell since there was so much water in the fields that many new ponds had been created. 

The coastal path dropped down in quite a spectacular fashion to Scarborough's north bay at Long Nab (another one). Access to the promenade was provided by a footbridge crossing the significant beck flowing into the sea. One of the letters had dropped off the name of the beck-side pub and for a moment I thought it said 'Old Scalby Arse'. It was only when I got closer that I could see that it should have said 'Old Scalby Mills'. 

Freddie And The Belsen Stragglers

I walked along the promenade past the Oceanarium and dropped down on to the beach at the first opportunity. I was attracted back on to the promenade by a cafe which seemed reasonably popular given the number of people sitting outside. I ordered a coffee and sat down. I took a tentative sip expecting it to be piping hot, but found instead that it chilled my lip. That's a cafe I won't be going back to. 

Further along the promenade I came across another wonderful Ray Lonsdale statue known as 'Freddie And The Belsen Stragglers'. The metal figure is slumped on an oversized bench, cig in hand, flat cap on, seemingly deep in thought. The subject of the statue is somebody called Freddie Gilroy. There is an information board next to the statue that tells the backstory of Freddie Gilroy. To be honest, it doesn't provide cheery reading. He was a gun aimer in the artillery during WWII and had the misfortune of being one of the first allied units at the Belsen concentration camp. As I say, it doesn't make for pleasant reading. After recounting the atrocities, the piece concludes with the following:

'Freddie was an ordinary man. Like millions of other soldiers from all over the world, he was drawn into a worldwide conflict where he made friends only to see many of them die. He fought an enemy he rarely saw and in those six years created memories he would have rather forgotten. He was a kind and loving man who made friends easily and who displayed warmth that Ray Lonsdale has captured in his sculpture Freddie Gilroy And The Belsen Stragglers'.

The promenade carries on around the bay and is known as Marine Drive. It is quite a civil engineering feat with a raging sea on one side and crumbling cliffs on the other. Small, circular stone plaques were placed on the top of the promenade's wall, every 30 metres or so. An inscription on them described some curiousity about Scarborough. I couldn't resist stopping at each one and reading them, which delayed my progress around to the South Bay significantly. 

South Bay

'Have you seen much today?' The enquirer was a guy with binoculars around his neck. 'Not much' I confessed. 'There's a peregrine up on the cliffs there.' I'd clocked somebody else with a long lens taking pictures and so I didn't doubt him. He let me use his binoculars and sure there was a falcon sat on a rocky ledge on the cliff. Wow! Sod's Law, I'd not brought my long lens with me. I thanked him for pointing it out. 

The sun was out in the South Bay and it was a lot busier than the North Bay. I walked past the harbour and decided that the Silver Dollar amusement arcade would be my turnaround point for the day. The arcade looked unchanged from my memories as a kid, with amplified cash drops blasting out from its front. The background music might have been updated a bit since my days.

Anne Bronte

It was a steep, but short climb up to St Mary's Church. I had my lunch sat on a bench that seemed to be positioned over some gravestones. I hoped that the people underneath didn't mind. It had a lovely view over the South Bay. I had come to see Anne Bronte's grave. Anne visited Scarborough a lot with her father and the place held fond memories for her. Some parts of her first book, 'Agnes Grey' was based in Scarborough. The graveyard was a lot larger than I expected. I didn't really have time to wander around every grave and I was grateful that I stumbled on her grave by chance. It was a rather modest sized grave and had a quill in front of it. It reminded me of Sylvia Plath's grave at Heptonstall where admirers leave biros, and pencils. I wondered what people would leave at my grave. Knowing my luck it'd be on a dog walker's route and the only offerings I'd get would be from the hounds. With these moribund thoughts I made a mental note to change my will to have a cremation when I got back home. 

From the church I climbed up towards the castle. It is an English Heritage establishment now and so you'll need deep pockets if you want to visit it. A path took me under a stone bridge that seemed to be part of the castle complex and a Peregrine's eye view of the North Bay materialised before me. I was on my way back.

Return

A couple of youngsters were sat on the bench next to Freddie and gave some perspective to the size of the statue. I decided not to revisit the café, purveyor of lukewarm coffees, on the promenade. The tide was in now and waves smashed against the sea walls. At the Old Scalby Arse I made my way back up on to the cliffs. It had been sunny all morning and I'd hoped that this might have dried up the path a bit. If anything it seemed even worse. Maybe it had taken time for the waterlogged fields to drain towards the coast. I looked at the OS map. There is a disused railway line that runs from Scarborough right back to where I parked my car. It would mean walking a fair bit to get to it though. Disused railway line paths aren't that interesting either. I'd stick to the coastal path. It seemed tougher than my outward journey this morning. The views of the massive cliffs made it worthwhile though.

About half a mile before Roger Trod I could stand the mud no longer and headed off on a single track road inland. I left muddy footprints along it as I made my way to the Cinder Track (the disused railway line). Mercifully the Cinder Track was dry and by the time I got back to my car, my boots and gaiters were mostly coated with dried mud, rather than wet. 

Despite the mud, today's route had been brilliant. The cliffside route provided tremendous views. The Scarborough section delivered continual interest. It's not every day that you see a Peregrine either!