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Late Doors

Robin Hoods Bay – Scarborough

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside. Especially in winter anywhere on the English North East Coast. They bang on about the beautiful Californian pacific coast where Moorland meets the ocean as if in some kind of wondrous and divine gift to the US of A but I've been and I can tell you this. It’s alright but not a patch on what we have right here on our doorstep. They might have the consistent warm weather and the Hollywood imagery but the truth is that our brooding and temperamental landscape is infinitely more interesting and alive. Think Heathcliff and Cathy rather than Jack and Dianne and you might get somewhere near what I'm trying to say.

Robin Hoods bay is a lovely tranquil and picturesque old fishing village roughly in between Scarborough and Whitby set deep and cut into the Moorland Cliffs in a mazy little complex of paths and lanes that join the cramped but neat little houses with the steep main lane out of the center up to the elevated village outskirts. The smell of burning peat wraps around the saline air and combined with the cry of the gulls is the very essence of winter by the sea. It’s beautiful any time but to me it’s this time of year that it is at its understated but enchanting best. Precious little tat on show, hardly any common rough people  (however it is within easy reach of Middleborough), ace little pubs, fine chippies, fabulous restaurant, terrific rugged beach area and rolling moorland cliff tops to the North and South making it a perfect walking destination. The Cleveland way passes right through it.





Unfortunately we weren’t blessed with perfect weather, the sky was grey and drab but it kept dry for us at least and the greyness actually emphasized the cove like charm.



I have to state that Robin Hoods bay is not a place for weight watchers. It is the law that you must gorge on Fish n Chips during the day which we did and they were the usual excellent quality. The pubs are the kind of places you have to tear yourself away from, The Bay hotel at the bottom and the Laurel half way up the hill being the best of the bunch, both small compact snugs of comforting bliss with good ale, simple hospitality and a good mix of locals and visitors with non of that surly indifference a visitor often gets when travelling in places like this. I had a few splendid pints of Theakstons Best and a couple of Dalesmen ales. Some unexpected little pleasures as well. A couple of pints in the Bay Hotel  was accompanied by a hours worth of 60s and early 70’s Jamaican Ska on the Thursday tea time The Grosvenor Hotel up the lane was a little different. There was a local family with noisy kids screeching away with the mother more than a little pissed. Still a decent pub though.
Then there was the Way finders Restaurant. If I had a “my kind of restaurant” then this would be it. We book a table every time we come to the place, it’s ace. With it being the night before New Year’s eve I thought we wouldn’t have needed to reserve but by gum we did. It’s a low key friendly, subtly lit plain but tastefully and carefully laid out restaurant. If you’re expecting meticulous pampering service then forget it, you’ll get smiley efficient relaxed pleasantness and for me that is just right. The background music was perfect, low enough to not be intrusive loud enough to be recognized. James Blunt has never sounded better; Corinne Bailey Rae is good for anywhere as is assorted indie guitar laced pop songs that accompanied the meal

I had a goat’s cheese filo pastry, the delicateness of the pastry a little overpowered by the sheer weft of cheese, very creamy very tasty but Christ on a bike a humongous portion. I ate it all. Sensational scallops and King Prawn in a frisky but coy sauce (think Jennifer Anniston after a year’s celibacy). It came with roast vegetables if anything a bit too richly roasted and absolutely perfect homemade chips that were just too irresistible to go ignored. MrsD had a juicy chicken breast stuffed with mozzarella and wrapped in ham with salad and dauphine spuds which she claims is the best thing she’s eaten in a long while.

So, conscious that maybe Fish n Chips, a few pints and a two evening courses may not have adequately supplied the days calorific requirement we had a pudding to share. A light Belgian chocolate brownie and homemade vanilla ice cream, not at all the heavyweight it might seem and a sweet finish. Two espressos to finish (ten years ago you’d have been chased into a huge burning wicker man by pitch fork wielding locals for even daring to ask for such a thing). The bill was a middling 45 quid (no wine, drinks) plus tip, cos i wanted to

Not surprisingly we were both fit for nothing after all that so we toddled off back to our BnB and watched Toast to end a most agreeable break in Robin Hoods Bay

Next up Scarborough, a short car ride South through the still heavily snow covered moors and parked up on the North Bay of this most distinguished of resorts. There cannot be a Yorkshire person or anyone from the whole of North Britain who is not familiar with the place and has some memories of it. I remember the first time I saw the sea in recallable memory was in Scabby as a 14 year old lad. I almost fainted at the vastness of the sea. It completely freaked me out and the impact has stayed with me forever. That was also the year I learned not to pick a fight with my younger brother anymore as he had got harder and madder than me as we scrapped it out with proper punches and kicks in Peasholme park in front of our shamefaced mum and hundreds of onlookers. A couple of years later me n my mate Thorpey camped out on the south bay cliffs using the No Camping sign as an anchor for the ropes. The actual little plateau we pitched up on has long since crumbled and slipped onto the beach. This was after the Cops had made us move on from our spot on the edge of the Park. I've been going to Scabby ever since fairly regularly, I love the place but this was the first trip for over two years for us. The North Bay has had a makeover with the disintegrating and often perilous railings now replaced with a huge line of concrete blocks and manmade boulders after some recent tragedies there. A painted concrete walkway ran alongside it to provide a not altogether unpleasant vista considering the materials used. Can’t vouch for how it’s going to look in ten years time though.



We walked the entire length of the two bays, along the bottom of the castle cliffs, past the harbour. Giving the arcades,chippies,cafes and tat shops a miss, along the Southern end, under the majestic grand hotel, past the 60’s style cinema to the Spa undergoing a face lift, beyond the now filled in outdoor pool up the pathway to the Southside cliffs were we camped all those years ago and back again, about 3 hours walk and a more enjoyable coastal walk you’d struggle to make, brilliant.

Carp

Thanks LD.....Superb. I got give a Yorkshire walking book for Christmas.
fartcatcher

Fond memories of Scarborough. My mates mum and dad had a caravan there and four of us used to hitch/bus/train up there for weekends in the summer.
Drunk my first pint of Taylors in the Hole in the Wall near the bus station and got crapped on by a seagull on the beach.

We used to refer to the caravan as the Shagwagon, although Wankwagon might have been more accurate.

happy days.
Late Doors

Love walking books me. Get just as much pleasure reading them as walking them. You can not go wrong almost anywhere in the county
Carp

Lovely pics too. Oooh I need to bet back with nature soon.
Late Doors

Spent many a fine evening in the hole

The report has just undergone the household QC Process and i have been corrected on a few issues.
Its the Wayfarers resteraunt not the way finders
The noisy pub was the Victoria not the Grosvenor
and i had a red onion chutney with the goats cheese

oh and its '60s  not 60's, She'd fit right in on here
sheeps

Nice one.

We also love the East Coast, walking for miles without realising. Scabby, Brid, Flamborough, Whitby. Kin ace. RHB has to be one of my favourites n' all.
Carp

Lovely whatever. Was given a book on Yorkskshire walks and a book on Croatia walks,
fartcatcher

there's a nice walk up the old railway line that follows the coast. It goes through a place called Ravenscar where they were going to build a resort but never didas the cliffs are about 600 ft high and there's no beach.
bearing

Axe LD

do you take your note book on your trips too?
Late Doors

bearing wrote:
Axe LD



bearing

Late Doors wrote:
bearing wrote:
Axe LD





Of course I meant to say ace
sheeps

bearing wrote:
Late Doors wrote:
bearing wrote:
Axe LD





Of course I meant to say ace


The c is next door to the x  

When the sun is shining Britain is as good as anywhere.

Had a few caravan holls when the kids were small that still bring a warm glow.
bearing

sheeps wrote:
bearing wrote:
Late Doors wrote:
bearing wrote:
Axe LD





Of course I meant to say ace


The c is next door to the x  



I'd like to blame fat fingers.
Grind

Looks like the work of Fat Fingers to me.

* They sound yummy. *
Mick McCann

Staithes is FAB, well worth a visit if you like stunning, sleepy places.
sheeps

Clacker wrote:
This thread is like a foreign language to me.


Try the little places on the East Cost Clack. Staithes and Robin Hoods bay are just two.

Can't remember when I last used this word but they are 'delightful'.

There, said it.

*goes back in closset*
Mick McCann

sheeps wrote:
Clacker wrote:
This thread is like a foreign language to me.


Try the little places on the East Cost Clack. Staithes and Robin Hoods bay are just two.

Can't remember when I last used this word but they are 'delightful'.

There, said it.

*goes back in closset*


Got to visit them at some point in your life Clacks, magical places.....probably the most stunning and atmospheric places I've ever visited
Mick McCann

Clacker wrote:
*Tries Google translate*


Don't be racist.
Late Doors

Yeah, don't be not
Forest

Remembered I had some snaps of RHB

Late Doors

And Whitby

After the enjoyable intensity of the in laws coming over for Xmas us two had a couple of nights away. I guess i am  lucky to like the in laws so much especially in comparison to some of you and yours on here but it was good to get off on our own and enjoy someone else's hospitality.

For me there is no where better than the north Yorkshire coast. Us tykes do bang on about how great the place is. I know the country has fabulous coast all around the land but is there anywhere better where rolling hills, stark moors and jarring cliffs plunge into the salty swirls with more theatre? Where peaty smoke licks the brine of the air and tiny pubs beckon you to stay forever within the gather of their crackling fires?.

Whitby first, smothered in  the crystal light of the low winter sun looked it's idyllic best. Thousands wandering through its cottaged and cobbled streets, queuing for its staggeringly good fish n chips while the family dogs pant for the beach and lunge at the wiley gulls.

The abbey and church aloft at the south side, the west cliffs forming the opposite ridge as the estuary, now tame and stable cradles fishing craft and vessels before its gilded journey to the moorland source. Just a few weeks ago this very same inlet was a raging property ripping torrent once again asserting the sea's erratic power. Now it was dormant, a vanity mirror reflecting the towns ample charm and beauty.

Robin hoods bay about six miles south of Whitby is small, enclaved and perfectly formed. An  immaculate B nB called Fern Lodge with its 10/10 brekky sensational views and non intrusive care was the ideal base. What more do you need?, ah yes, pubs and grub. The Bay, The Dolphin and best of all the Laurel inn are postcard fit and fireside lit. Great ale, friendly, cosy and lively with a few Adnams and black sheeps to  wet the whistle and set you up for the night.

The Wayfarer restaurant is still fabulous with the Plaice, Samphire and crab crusted cod loin particularly good despite the cool tunes of previous visits now replaced with corny sea shanty ditties. Such is the price of success i guess.

Scarborough, recently on the brink of decline seems now to be well and truly on the road to recovery maybe even completely cured. Who doesn't love Scabby? Certainly no one i know. It's a Yorkshire institution as much a part of the county as puddings and miserable fuckers in the pub are.
Rejuvenated pubs, indie shops and cafes all over the place, heaps of shopping, even, dare i say, young and trendy places cropping up. A distinctive lack of the dozens of ne'r do wells we saw a few year back was welcome and we promised ourselves a few days here in 2014. Oh aye, a fantastic bronze sculpture on the north bay marine drive you have got to see, complete with tragic little poem.













bearing

Looks ace LD, shame we don't hold seafood in the same reverence our Southern European friends do.

I'm looking to do the Coast to Coast walk at some point in the future and Robin Hood's Bay is the end point (or the start if you're a bit different.)
fartcatcher

bearing wrote:
Looks ace LD, shame we don't hold seafood in the same reverence our Southern European friends do.

I'm looking to do the Coast to Coast walk at some point in the future and Robin Hood's Bay is the end point (or the start if you're a bit different.)


Finish in Robin Hoods Bay. Pubs are better.

Stayed there for a week when I was a college boi. There is a marine biology field centre right by the harbour.

Spent many happy weekends in Scarborough when I was a kid. My mate's parents had a caravan there, and they used to let me, him and two other mates stay there at weekends.

We generally spent the weekend getting chucked out of pubs, but returned with largely imagined yarns of our conquests in the 'Shagwagon'.

Had my first pint of Taylors in the pub opposite the bus station.

Also saw my first real life punks there. Think it had an art collage somewhere.
fartcatcher

Just realised i posted the same load of old toss earlier on in the same thread.    

As you get older you tend to start repeating yourself.

As you get older you tend to start repeating yourself.
Late Doors

Tarted the grammar up and remembered the name of the BnB

Yes T'b we do rather neglect our own brillian produce. I doubt we will be seeing much seafood in the food charity shops for the "poor" though
Cutsyke

What I remember most about beaches back home in winter is dog shit.
Forest

I think dogs are actually banned now on some beaches, pretty sure that's the case in Scarborough.
Plastic Man

Forest wrote:
I think dogs are actually banned now on some beaches, pretty sure that's the case in Scarborough.


A lot of beaches on the Yorkshire coast do ban dogs for various periods, particularly from spring to autumn, typically from the beginning of May to the end of September. I'm not sure how strictly this is enforced, as I've often seen dogs on beaches during the prohibition periods.

I don't have a problem with the dogs - I have a problem with the owners who fail to clean up after them.
Forest

Plastic Man wrote:
Forest wrote:
I think dogs are actually banned now on some beaches, pretty sure that's the case in Scarborough.


A lot of beaches on the Yorkshire coast do ban dogs for various periods, particularly from spring to autumn, typically from the beginning of May to the end of September. I'm not sure how strictly this is enforced, as I've often seen dogs on beaches during the prohibition periods.

I don't have a problem with the dogs - I have a problem with the owners who fail to clean up after them.


I always wondered how they could enforce it too. They should ban Donkeys for the same reason.
Plastic Man

Forest wrote:
They should ban Donkeys for the same reason.


To be fair, certainly in some resorts they seem to address this by making the donkeys wear nappies or by insisting that someone follows up with a bucket and spade.

It's a shame the authorities can't vigorously compel people to similarly not litter with detritus that they apparently have the energy to carry to the beach, but not to carry to the bins on their way home.
Heyho

At least the sea washes the shite away.

Not like the pile of shite that got deposited on my Doc Martens on New Years Eve following the 700 yard walk from the Tommy Wass pub to my parents house. And the subsequent phone call the next day from my mother to tel me she had spent ages removing it from her carpet!!!!!

As for Robin Hoods Bay - has always been my favourite coastal haunt until recently. Have found that Staithes has held on to that quaintness that Robin Hoods Bay seems to have lost.

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