Port Mulgrave

A pleasant grassy path takes you along the cliffs to Port Mulgrave.  After the exuberant excesses of Staithes, Port Mulgrave looks a little sad. It was a former port for the export of ironstone in the 19th century. A mile long inclined tunnel was used to take the ironstone down to the beach.  During World War II the harbour was blown up in case an invading German force took advantage of it. It looks like it was never rebuilt.  The ruin of the harbour and the surrounding shacks on the beach give an air of dereliction to the place. My impression was probably influenced by the grey, cloudy morning since it looked a little cheerier on my return during the sunny afternoon. 

When I returned in the afternoon my walk was interrupted by intermittent clanging down on the beach. On closer inspection I saw that two men were breaking up stones with hammers. I presumed they were fossil hunting since I found out later that it is the best place on the northern coast for finding fossils of ammonites.

Runswick Bay

There path from Port Mulgrave is reasonably flat and before I knew it I was striding down a steep path into Runswick Bay.  Where I'd describe Staithes as dramatic, then I'd categorise Runswick Bay as cosy.  Whereas Staithes is a pint of Old Original in a pewter tankard,  Runswick Bay is a cup of Earl Grey in a china cup. This is another place where you could spend an hour or more just wandering around the narrow streets and poking your nose into areas that you probably shouldn't. 

I sat on one of the many benches and people watched for a while. When I got bored of people I progressed to the colony of Robins that flew between the sea defence rocks. Grey Wagtails and Pied Wagtails were residents of the area too. As you might expect, there is a wonderful beach. The Cleveland Bay runs along the beach. On some high tides this cut off and so plan your walk around the tides. There is an alternative route if you are cut off, but it is a little longer.

Kettleness

I followed the  Cleveland Way, and a stream, up an obvious gully. There were some handrails to assist up a slippery section. A series of steep steps led me back on to the cliff tops, exposing the wonderful Runswick Bay from above. As you walk along the Yorkshire coast the scars of the alum and ironstone industries are very much in evidence.  It was all very apparent as I looked down at the quarries from the cliffs before Kettleness.  The village is just a few houses now but back in the early 19th century it was much larger. In 1829, due to the extensive quarrying, the houses fell into the sea. 

There were some benches at Kettleness and I took the opportunity to sit down on one and rest my legs. There was a stunning view down the coast past Runswick Bay to the cliffs around Port Mulgrove and Staithes. I had intended making Sandsend the target for the day, but I knew the tide would be coming in this afternoon and I'd not checked whether the Runswick Bay path might be cut off. I therefore only continued along the coast to Seavey Bog Hill.

At the point I turned around, I'd caught up a party of four who were doing a circular route involving Sandsend and Kettleness. One of the couples lived in Whitby now, but originally they were from the the outskirts of Manchester. We swapped stories about Dovestone Reservoir, a local haunt for them and one of my favourite walking spots. They loved Dovestone, but it appeared they loved the Yorkshire Coast even more.

Return To Staithes

The glorious sun had been out since mid-morning and I was attired with shorts, shirt and sun-hat. Hard to believe we could have such weather in October. I wasn't cut-off by the tide at Runswick Bay and I wandered along the golden sands just breathing in the beauty of the place. Occasionally I'd look down to see if I could find a fossil, but the fossil hunters had spent all day combing the beach and so there was little chance.

I descended from the cliff path into Staithes and was surprised to find a car park on the impossibly narrow road where it meets the Cleveland Way. I squeezed past the car and started walking down the road to the harbour. A few moments later, I turned around to find the car driver backing the car down the street. I jumped on to someone's front door step just before he passed me.

The deserted streets of this morning had turned into a tourist honeypot.  I spent some time exploring the streets, crossing the bridge over Staithes Beck to Cowbar. There is supposed to be the world's narrowest alley in Staithes, called Dog Loup, at just 18 inches wide. I didn't find it though. Eventually I dragged myself away from this curious place and that hill back to the car park was just as exhausting as I thought it would be this morning.