It’s just before 6am. The rain has finally arrived. No wind though, at least where I am. Have had my porridge and am now making a cup of tea. No glorious breakfast outside like yesterday: you have to sieze these chances when they arrive
Sock management. These are the sort of things that I consider at moments like this. I have brought 3 sets of socks with me, a set consisting of a pair of thick and a pair of thin socks. One set is unused. One set is dry and smelly after being worn for 5 days and one set is dry and fairly fresh, having been put on yesterday. Whatever I wear today will end up wet, and who knows what tomorrow will bring. I decide to wear the dry and smelly ones, they can be sacrificed first
Enough prevarication, I need to pack up and get moving. I’m very glad that I’ve brought the webbing straps I made that allow me to take down the inner tent before the flysheet. It will slightly reduce the amount of sodden equipment in my rucksack
Emerge out into the world. What a great campsite, with bluebells poking through the braken. The rain isn't too bad, but it feels persistent and set for the day
The cloud is quite low and views limited. I was talking to a local yesterday who told me that there were dolphins on this stretch of coast. Don't think I will see them today
As I ascend to the cliff top the wind picks up and it feels much colder. Sheep and lambs seek whatever shelter they can find
The cloud eventually lifts and the views open out. The cliff top hedges low trees give a surprising amount of protection from the gusty wind
In the dips are bigger trees, twisted into weird and interesting shapes. Mud and water everywhere
After what seems an endless trudge, the soaking wet flysheet making my rucksack the heaviest it has felt on the whole journey, the familiar castle-topped Scarborough headland appears. It still takes forever to reach the start of the North Bay beach. It's been the longest 9 miles that I have ever known, my legs feel really jaded
The Harbour Bar of the Golden Ball pub...I have spent many a happy hour in there. Now sadly closed
More shocks to come. I had been planning to pop into the Hole in the Wall for a reviving pint and some food. Also closed. I have been coming to this pub for over 40 years, it was Sue's dad's local and one of my all-time favourites. It is being changed into a private home
Luckily this Scarborough institution is still going strong, and I called in for fish, chips and mushy peas. Excellent as always. I calculate it's another 10 miles to the end of the route, and although it would make it a long tough day, I really didn't fancy the thought of camping out. Most of the landscape is based on boulder clay, and everywhere was looking very saturated
I left Wackers intending to get a train from Filey, the latest of 8.15pm must be achievable whatever state I'm in. So with a farewell backwards glance at Scarborough, I set off
It was still raining, but lighter now. The temperature had risen since the morning and I felt revitalised by lunch.
The countryside and coast to the south of Scarborough is fairly unknown to me. We have always tended to head north, Whitby, Robin Hoods Bay, the moors
The coast seemed a little gentler, the cliffs less high, but beautiful sandy beaches
The miles pass slowly by. If my legs had been weary getting into Scarborough, they were worse now.
Still plenty of steep ups and painful downs
Eventually what must be the tip of Filey Brigg, where the walk finishes, came into view
I reach a sign saying Helmsley, 109 miles, and I guess the end of the walk has arrived. A random end at a random signpost. I continue along the narrow headland until what I feel is a more appropriate ending
I realise if I move quickly, easier said than done, I can get the 5.15 train in 30 minutes
So I hobble to the station and pick up the train to Seamer, from where I go to York and then Manchester. At Seamer I do what I have been wanting to do for a long time.....swap my wet socks for a dry set. Bliss
Brilliant blog dave , and another great achievement 👏
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