Day 14 - Egton Bridge to Robin Hood's Bay - 17 miles

We left The Horseshoe in Egton Bridge at about 8:45am under cloudy skies. We walked through the pretty little village along the road until we turned off onto a private lane belonging to Egton Estates. along the lane we saw lots of grouse off to each side. 

Leaving Egton Bridge

And as we went on we came to the old toll cottage from times gone by with this sign on the side of the house.

Oh, how times have changed

A farmer drove by us on his quad bike with his sheepdog riding up front and in a few minutes we could hear the dog barking and cows mooing as the dog rounded them up and the farmer shouted instructions to the dog…would have liked to stay and watch them work but we've got a long way to go.

Jen as we come out of Egton Estates

We headed into Grosmont, home of the NY Moors Steam Railway, which runs over the moors into Whitby. 

Level crossing 1 Grosmont

Level Crossing 2 Grosmont

Train station Grosmont

It's a beautiful little village  with lovely little shops and galleries. Great to visit in a car but walking out of it is another thing. It's a beast of a hill going on forever. It was pretty much a kilometre with a very steep gradient. We asked a man passing us going down the other way, how much more…he lied and told us we were almost at the top. Ha!

Grosmont Hill 1

Grosmont Hill 2

Grosmont Hill 3

Finally the road levelled out and we were out on the moors again, alone with the sheep and the grouse. This part of the route was very odd taking us out onto a very busy main road and then eventually off into fields again down into Little Beck.

Coast to Coast Sign

Littlebeck was a lovely little place taking us down leafy lanes past interesting houses and thankfully away from cars and noise.

Statue on Littlebeck House

Littlebeck Pantile roof

We made our way through the village and turned off into Littlebeck Woods nature reserve. It's a wonderful wood. 

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The Hermitage - 1790, carved out by a local schoolmaster. Very cool.

Then, miraculously, we come to a beautiful waterfall and an even more beautiful tearoom at Falling Foss, where we had gingerbread, carrot cake and tea. We met several dogs and their owners and it would have been nice to stay there but there were miles yet to go. We were to busy eating to take any photos….oops. But I did meet the following creatures on the way.

Belted Galloway

I think this sweet old Border Collie is retired from working with sheep and now her job is to greet weary walkers. Sweetie!

Onward and upward, it's always upward with Wainwright and oddly we seem to be heading towards Whitby as the wonderful Abbey s getting closer and close - this is completely the wrong direction. We zigzag back and forth through moor and bog and moor and bog until we finally are heading in the right direction, though through a massive caravan site on the coast. There was a cafe so obviously we had to stop and have an ice cream. Yum.

Our route is somewhat longer

We join The Cleveland Way again and we are on the last leg as we head towards Robin Hood's Bay, the sun comes out and it's so beautiful.

High cliffs between Whitby and Robin Hood's Bay

We stopped for a rest overlooking the water and the sun came out. We took off our boots, aired our feet and changed our socks one last time. It's impossible to describe the feeling of wanting to make this last couple of miles last forever, of course at the same time we wanted to complete what we'd set out to do.

And then before you know it, we're there and coming down into Robin Hood's Bay.We went down to the beach and completed the ritual of dipping our feet in the North Sea as we had in the Irish Sea and tossing the pebbles we'd carried from St. Bee's into the water.

The Bay Hotel - official place to have a drink at the end in Wainwright's Bar - unfortunately this was not to be.

What? No Drinks??

Luckily we were able to get drinks at he place we were staying but all three pubs in the old village couldn't serve alcohol as apparently some RHB Kingpin who'd owned all the pub had recently died and there was some oddness over the transfer of licenses and all the pubs are forced to stop serving drinks!!!

And then that's it…we're done. No more walking. Whatever will we do?

Well of course we went and had dinner and a lovely bottle of champagne sent by our very thoughtful  friend, TJ…a lovely way to end.

Day 13 - Blakey Ridge to Egmont Bridge - 11 1/2 miles - Part 2

So on we went along Glaisdale Rigg and through the village which straggled up and down dale.

Left over from Yorkshire portion of the Tour de France

Victorian Terraced Houses - Glaisdale

 We were early arriving at the pub, a few minutes before noon. First customers in the door.

The Arncliffe Arms, Glaisdale

Boots off, socks off , a half of Guinness, a half of Fosters and tomato and red pepper soup.

At lunch we always release our feet and change into clean socks…heavenly.

We lolled around for a while at the pub but as usual couldn't resist putting out boots back on and hitting the road. Not far from the pub we came to this lovely spot.

Beggar's Bridge, Glaisdale

Sorry but you're about to get another lesson….and then another.

At the eastern edge of the village lies Beggar's Bridge, built by Thomas Ferris in 1619. Ferris was a poor man who hoped to wed the daughter of a wealthy local squire. In order to win her hand, he planned to set sail from Whitby to make his fortune. On the night that he left, the Esk was swollen with rainfall and he was unable to make a last visit to his intended. He eventually returned from his travels a rich man and, after marrying the squire's daughter, built Beggar's Bridge so that no other lovers would be separated as they were.

I think…hope….it's a  true story. From the bridge we turn into Arncliffe Woods and go up and up above the River Esk. We walk along a path between Glaisdale and Egton Bridge built in mediaeval times to transport people and goods….it's a special place.

Ancient Graffiti?

Arncliffe Woods…think spring, think a river of bluebells

Ancient pathway between Glaisdale and Egmont Bridge called a  trod.

Walking the trod

Along to our left was the muddy River Esk and every now and then we would hear a loud splash and see the circles on the water of a fish who'd hit the surface. It wasn't until we saw a 32 pound stuffed salmon at our hotel that we realized it could have been a big fish jumping!

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Soon enough we were at our destination, another early day for us which is just as well as tomorrow is long.

Horseshoe Hotel, Egton Bridge

View from our room - Horseshoe Hens having a dust bath

We checked in and then poked around the beautiful little place for a bit before going back to the hotel to relax.

Old Sign

Linda stepping out

Bird's eye view over the Esk

After a lovely meal we slipped outside to take one last photo before bed.

Jen sleeping peacefully


Goodnight all.

Day 13 - Blakey Ridge to Egton Bridge - 11 1/2 miles Part 1

We decided to leave early today so we were done breakfast and out the door into a foggy, windy morning before 8am.

Walking Blakey Ridge

We had a choice of footpath or road but chose the road because we were looking for Young Ralph, Old Ralph and Fat Betty and we'd miss them if we took the path.

Young Ralph

Fat Betty - that's the stone not me, although…anyway we left and took an offering as is tradition

We never did find Old Ralph, we probably missed him in the fog. Here's the story on the stones:

The stones named Old Ralph, Young Ralph and Fat Betty are thought to be reminders of a trio of people who supported some nuns known as White Ladies. They tried to establish a convent in Rosedale. The plan aroused great antagonism and deep suspicion from local people but the story tells us that an elderly man known as Ralph became the devoted servant of The White Ladies.

One of his duties was to accompany them on missions across the moors, and on one occasion the nuns were to meet representatives of nearby Baysdale Abbey to discuss a mutual problem.

Their meeting place was Young Ralph, the stone cross, but dense fog developed and the nuns could not find the Baysdale nun called Margery. Old Ralph saved the day by shouting their names in the fog and so the nuns did not stray far from the cross. When the fog lifted, they could see each other. Ralph commemorated the event by positioning some stones – the Margery Stone that still marks a route for hikers, Fat Betty, a white boulder that represented Sister Elizabeth who was not fat (but the stone was!) and the standing stone Old Ralph who watches from a distance.

There is an old legend that if Old Ralph and Fat Betty ever meet, they will get married. To date, that has not happened.

We made our way around the road and up onto High Danby Moor above Great Fryupdale, a great name! More history….

The curious name Fryup probably derives from the Old English reconstruction *Frige-hop: Frige was an Anglo-Saxon goddess equated with the Old Norse Frigg; hop denoted a small valley.^[1]

An old woman at Fryup was well known locally for keeping the Mark’s e’en watch (24 April), as she lived alongside a corpse roadknown as Old Hell Road. The practice involved a village seer holding vigil between 11pm and 1am to watch for the wraiths of those who would die in the following 12 months.

On we went and the fog lifted as we walked and we thanked Lorna and Jessie (our mums) who have given us terrific weather on our journey.

Great Fryupdale

Lonely place above Great Fryupdale

We walked on a wide, rocky path that eventually came to a narrow road where we rested for a bit.

40 winks on the road

We walked on, pushed along by a strong wind and accompanied by the many red grouse browsing in the heather. I tried to get a photo of these lovely birds but wasn't able to manage it with my phone camera. They are very amusing birds with a wonderful call and a great desire to run everywhere instead of using their wings.  It's very interesting how managed a habitat the moors really are and home to much birdlife, golden plovers, curlews, lapwings and grouse. The growth and production of heather is managed by strategic burning so that there is always enough full-grown heather for nesting and enough young heather for feeding. The sheep also play a part in winter by knocking snow from the plants in order for the birds to feed. Britain has 75% of the world's remaining moorland and North Yorkshire has the largest continuous tract in England.

And there ends your lesson for today!!

Going for dinner now and will finish the rest of the day later.