Thursday 1 October
Hugh and I left Andover on the 10.06 train, travelling via Waterloo, King’s Cross and Doncaster, to use the slow train to Bridlington, via Hull. We arrived on time at 16.05, to be met by Hilary and Declan, who drove us to Kittiwake Cottage, part of Grange Holidays, on Bempton Lane, just on the northern edge of Flamborough. Hilary had provided some supplies – tea, bread, milk, eggs etc – and we settled in to this two storey, two-bed cottage, whose only failings were very low ceilings in the bathroom and bedrooms. Puffin Cottage, where we had stayed in 2022, was occupied, as were all the other one-bed places alongside.
A reconnoitre of the pubs and eateries was encouraging. Flamborough looks more prosperous than I remembered, and the town seemed busy with the occupants of hundreds of static summer homes enjoying the Indian summer; the weather was bright, warm and sunny (and remained so until Tuesday, the morning we left)
We walked the field path which leads to the village and enjoyed a pint in the newly refurbished Ship (we learned later it is owned by Heineken and managed by an enterprising woman who also owns the Boathouse at North Landing amongst others) and a second in the Rose and Crown where we ate an enormous liver and bacon main and a Halloumi starter, with hand cut chips. We left quite alot as we quickly learned that portions are ‘generous’ everywhere. After booking for Friday evening at the Seabirds, we walked home in the dusk, as the bats were emerging.
Friday 2 October
We walked to Flamborough headland via the road, having established from a dog walker that there was a footpath the whole length. We passed not only the Flamborough Vineyard, but also the extraordinary Chalk Tower, built in 1674 and used for 100s of years by fishermen at sea to triangulate the positions of their lobster pots and nets.
The Headland itself is renowned for its birds, often blown off course or taking temporary respite on this most easterly promontory. Behind the (locked) hide we came on three elderly birders from Hampshire, staying in Bridlington and rejoicing in a temporary suspension of parking charges as new charging equipment was being installed. Hugh quickly established which birds were about, and we slowly moved round the various viewing points, lucky to see a colony of seals basking on the beach below High Stacks. Conditions were perfect: a gentle easterly wind, calm waters and bright sunshine. We could see for miles, especially with binoculars!
We walked around the headland, on the coastal path, towards the South Landing; briefly losing our way as we turned north again to return through Flamborough Village. After a pint at the Royal Dog and Duck we purchased salads from the Coop to eat at the cottage. I had a rest, and read, while Hugh strolled around the village in the warm sunshine.
The owners had supplied each cottage with The Birds of Buckton, the product of a local covid project: a record of the sightings, ringings and ‘firsts’ that Mark Thomas of the RSPB had undertaken in 2020 – 2021. Buckton is a small village just to the north of Bempton.
It is a remarkable book, and sadly, no longer available, even from its author, who privately published only 500 copies in 2022.
We headed out for the Seabirds and a shared seafood platter (billed as a starter but more than sufficient!) before returning via Bempton Lane, where the street lights only stop for the final 200 metres. Most of the eateries stop taking orders around 19.30, so meals finish in time for an early night. It had been a long day for us, walking c 12 miles in all, and in the darkness bumped into a weary walker who having arrived late afternoon, had walked to Bempton cliffs, underestimated the distance, and had to resort to walking home by road as the darkness fell.
Saturday 3 October
Hilary had asked if there were places we wanted to visit; so today we all headed for Spurn Point, (bottom RH corner above) which I had researched at length. To travel independently would have involved a train to Hull, and a 100 minute bus ( no. 71) journey (only available on summer weekends) to the visitors’ centre, so it was kind of Hilary and Declan to take us. Despite main roads, it was a slow and windy journey; quicker on return via Withernsea and Hornsea. It is easy to forget just how big the East Riding is.
The visitors’ centre featured picnic tables in a sun trap, at which Hilary made herself comfortable with a crossword. There were steep metal stairs to reach the cafe (though a long spiral ramp just about provided disabled access) down which any numbers of coffee in tall sundae glasses had been spilt by the unsuspecting, including us….
Declan, Hugh and I headed for the Seawatch hide, after staring for some while at the three mile long spit that joins Spurn Point to Spurn Head. To the east, the North sea, to the west, the vast Humber estuary. After half an hour, I returned to the centre to spend a little time talking with Hilary while the men traipsed around the very dried-out ponds, interspersed with sea-watching and highland cattle.
The visitors’ centre had surprisingly good steak and ale pies, the last two of which were eaten by Hugh and me, while Declan and Hilary opted for sandwiches, before we set off north for Skipsea, and a tour of their bungalow’s new kitchen and walk-in bath.
Declan ferried us back to Flamborough, and after a rest, we set off for the Rose and Crown again, resolving to eat only starters – garlic mushrooms, haddock goujons and one lot of chips. And we succeeded! We also managed to leave without paying, realising only on our return to the Cottage. Phoning failed, so we retraced our steps in the dark to surprise our friendly hostess, who as Hugh had suspected, hadn’t even noticed.
Sunday 4 October
We set off for Bempton Cliffs, on the footpath by Grange farm, turning north by the hedge through the fields for a mile, until we reached the coastal cliff path, where we walked on to the viewing points from which we’d seen the Albatross four years earlier. This year’s treat were nine pink-footed geese, possibly newly arriving; more elegant and less noisy than their Canadian cousins.
Another brilliant day, less wind, but plenty of action over the water, and on the water, and as we neared the visitors’ centre, in the water. First, four bottle-nosed dolphins, and soon after at least four porpoises; said to be following the shoals of mackerel and herring along the shallow ledge. Linnets, stonechats, tree sparrows, peregrines, gannets of various maturities (including a very late downy chick – below far right), kittiwakes, guillemots, lesser black-backed gulls, one greater, on the water – and a distant view of Scarborough beyond Filey Brigg !
The visitors’ centre provided sandwiches which we ate later on the walk towards North Landing, but not before we’d walked further north towards Buckton cliffs, only then turning south, passing once again the northern end of the six km long Danes dyke.
Cliffs have provided nesting sites here for hundreds of years, and for many years eggs were ‘harvested’ by local ‘climmers’ – men who risked life and limb routinely to climb up and down these sheer cliffs, gathering eggs for sale for food, and in the nineteenth century, for collectors. The ‘sport’ of shooting birds from hired boats below the cliff was popular in late Victorian times (think pheasant shoots today) until protest from the ‘climmers’ about loss of income eventually had it banned. In the 1950s egg collection was banned, and the trade finally stopped. Below is a headstone from St Oswald’s Churchyard commemorating a ‘climmer’
It is five km from Knab point to North Landing, and we ate lunch by the little bench we’d used earlier in the day, before striding out towards the now visible North Landing settlement. The path circumnavigated the vast Thornwick Bay holiday park, where what feels like 100s of fixed homes, all with boundaries marked and little balconies face the sea. No wonder there is so much pressure on local food hospitality!
We cut off the corner to reach the Viking hotel (on the list of 12 establishments in Flamborough serving alcohol) and stopped for a pint of a local brew which wasn’t to my taste. So we moved on to the very respectable, solid Northern Star which proudly served food all day even on a Sunday. More Timothy Taylor.
The bus had been sighted, and left on the dot of 14.49 (every hour, even on Sundays) to convey us along North Marine Rd, getting off at St Oswald’s Church at the southern end of Flamborough.
This has some twelfth century elements remaining, notably the Chancel arch, a squint and an ancient font, with a finely carved wooden screen originally part of Bridlington Priory, and rescued in the late 1530s after its dissolution. Its website is impressive; as is its ‘what to do when somebody dies’ link. ‘Gravetalk’: a great title and resource.
We walked home. Hugh keep moving to fend off stiffness, while I read, showered and rested. Today David’s Piemonte tour begins, the group meeting in Alba for supper at APE. We ate Hilary’s bacon and eggs and had another early night, after witnessing a spectacular sunset.
Monday 5 October
Today is the day we meet cousin Ruth, husband John Stanier, cousin Annie, and husband Stephen Southgate at the Headlands Restaurant at Flamborough Head to celebrate Hilary’s special birthday (actually on the 14 October). Declan and Hilary went there directly.
Hugh and I walked down to the bus stop by the Rose and Crown to catch the 09.33 to the North Landing again (via the Thornwick Bay campsite). We walked down the concrete ramp of the North Landing to look at the Boathouse cafe, at which 40 years ago the Tomlinson family had rendezvoused quite accidentally with Bill and Frances Ind and family from Basingstoke, also on holiday. Bill and Hugh had disappeared for hours, bird-watching in the rain; the remaining eight of us patiently stringing out a pot of tea.
From there we walked the four km cliff path to the Headland and its lighthouse. These cliffs are lower, overlaid with clay and eroded dramatically by the countless tides at the headland, as the photos show. And here we saw a Fulmar.
On arriving I checked our lunch booking while Hugh settled down on the warn springy turf to watch the cinematic bird displays, most notably a Marsh Harrier, and endlessly diving Gannets.
In the car park I ran into Annie and Stephen, and then Ruth and John, and we joined Hilary and Declan in the too warm dining area, at a long table for eight. Positioning Hilary in the middle, close by Ruth and Annie, the meal went really well, with little speeches and presents (and heirlooms) exchanged before the group broke up. I was able to thank Hilary for her love and care for me as a small child, all those years ago, and from whom I learned a lot about kindness.
Ruth and John, both suffering if in different ways, headed home, while Annie and Stephen spent a little while by the sea before calling in on Ruth in Driffield, en route for their home in Ripponden, two hours drive away. Declan and Hilary drove us back to the cottage, stopped for a cup of tea, and after Hilary and I had said our fond farewells, they headed home,
Hugh and I had a booking at 19.00 at the best eatery in Flamborough – the Ship – which involved a fish curry for Hugh and a seafood chowder for me – both delicious! We walked back in the dark, tired, but very satisfied by the events of the day.
Tuesday 6 October
Poor Declan was dispatched an hour early to take us to Bridlington station, now decorated with colourful hanging baskets but much reduced from its glory days. The trains ran to time, more or less; to Doncaster, to Kings Cross, and by over-warm tube to Waterloo. We reached Andover at 16.30, and home by 16.50. The newly sown grass has yet to flourish – but rain is forecast. But the Yucca in flower is magnificent – one of the few compensations of a terribly hot summer!
Wednesday 7 October
The start of the pollarding of the willows and poplars around the river at the bottom of the garden provided a noisy accompaniment to a disorienting morning but the arrival of Hilary’s beautiful flowers – typically generous and very touching – softened the day. Poor Hugh was back at work!
