Sunday 19th April 1998

Leave Glaisdale via Beggars Bridge through East Arncliffe Wood and along lanes to Egton Bridge. Follow lanes to Grosmont after which climb onto Sleights Moor. Decend into Littlebeck village and from there into  woods passing The Hermitage and Falling Foss  waterfall.  The last section is on lanes through Hawsker village and finally via a caravan site to the North Sea cliffs. The final section follows the Cleveland Way National Trail into Robin Hoods Bay.

Route: Glaisdale to Robin Hoods Bay via Egton Bridge, Grosmont, Littlebeck, Hawsker.

Distance: 19 Miles

Difficulty: Moderate: Long and varied with some climbs and rough moorland.

Facilities: Good: There are guesthouses, pubs and shops in the village. There is also a Youth Hostel at nearby Boggle Hole. I didn’t actually stay in Robin Hoods Bay but in Whitby a few miles away.

Day 12

During the planning stage of the CTC I had long imagined walking the last few miles and how it would be. I would reach the clifftops and sit down reflecting quietly over the previous eleven days. I would then spend time thinking of all of the wonderful places and people I had seen on my journey before walking slowly along the cliffs to Robins Hoods Bay, savouring every last moment before finally marching out across the shore to get my boots wet in the North Sea. Unfortunately, life rarely works out as planned and I found myself finishing as one of a party of three that finally walked into the picturesque seaside village. It wasn’t that I would ordinarily have minded walking with Ann and Rod it was just that this was my Coast to Coast walk. I had started and walked it alone; I wanted to finish it alone. Somehow having other people along seemed like an intrusion, as though someone was coming between a close friend and me. I had started the day with a dilemma. Ann had driven off to spend the day in Scarborough and I was left with a choice of leaving early without Rod and walking the day alone or waiting for him to be ready (he was a very slow starter) so that we could walk together. In the event, he was so slow getting ready he virtually made the decision for me. I set off alone over Beggars Bridge and into the wood. The track through the wood was very muddy and I slithered around as I walked. I said good morning to a lone walker bivvying under trees at the side of the track and was soon approaching Egton Bridge Here my guilt got the better of me and I slowed down to a crawl to allow Rod to catch up.  Eventually, he came jogging along and we marched together to the village of Grosmont where a steam engine puffed and groaned (pictured) in the station as it prepared for a trip along the North York Moors steam railway. Leaving Grosmont we were soon on the desolate Sleights Moor where we had our first glimpse of the sea in over a week. The ruins of Whitby Abbey were now clearly visible to our left and I could see a tanker on the horizon. We were now within touching distance of the finishing line but there was still some walking to do.

We descended steeply to the pretty village of Littlebeck set in a deep, tranquil valley and passing through, left it on a track into woods where we came upon The Hermitage, a curious shelter carved from an enormous boulder. Shortly after leaving this we came upon the pretty Falling Foss waterfall where we stopped for the last refreshment break of the whole walk. As we sat having a drink Rod, who had been suffering with an achilles problem, commented on my lack of physical discomfort. I had indeed been remarkably problem free and the only time I felt any physical problems at all was after the long trek across the Vale of Mowbray when my calf muscles had tightened in the Blue Bell pub that evening. Without all of the high level options that I had planned for the Lake District I had found the whole walk fairly easy going. Leaving the woods we followed tracks and country lanes to the village of High Hawsker before crossing the road to a caravan site and were soon out on the clifftops gazing out across the North Sea. It seemed an age since I had climbed up onto the clifftops at St. Bees at the start of the walk and I felt a little sad that a dream was now all but over. Sometimes I think dreams are better left that way. We struck off for Robin Hoods Bay and shortly the familiar figure of Ann approached along the path ahead of us. She had driven from Scarborough to Robin Hoods Bay and walked along the cliffs to join us for the last mile or two. Once in the village Rod and myself descended the steep street of attractive cottages to the beach dodging day trippers and looking a little out of place with our rucksacks and muddy boots. We reached the shoreline busy with people paddling in the water and drew bemused glances as we strode confidently out into the sea but we were oblivious. We posed for Ann as she took our photographs standing in the North Sea before we retired to the Bay Hotel for a drink. The barman gave us the Coast to Coast book to sign as he poured our drinks and I could feel the eyes of people in the bar watching us as we signed. I found the names of Vicky and Travis, the Australians from the pub in Patterdale who I had first met so long ago on Lining Crag. They had recorded a precise time of nine days and twenty-one hours, thereby achieving their aim. I had tried to think of something profound and meaningful to write but failed to come up with anything suitable or witty. In the event I ended up writing something mundane about needing a drink. Soon Rods parents, who had come to give him a lift home, joined us and we sat chatting and drinking as Rod and I recalled stories of adventures along the way. It was odd to be sitting now talking about the walk in the past tense. It seemed to have finished so abruptly and as the conversation flowed I found my mind drifting back and forth to some of the places I had visited along the way. Now I had pictures to go with the place names and whenever I looked at the map on the office wall in the future I would be able to recall the twelve wonderful days spent realising an ambition. The Coast to Coast walk had for a short time been a reality. Now it was a dream once again and I knew I would find myself in quiet moments drifting back and reliving it over and over again.