The Clinker Trail - Whitby to Scarborough

I met Sharn off the bus on Friday afternoon in the delightful town of Whitby.  I had accidentally booked our hotel for an extra night and so we decided we would walk as far as Robin Hoods Bay on Saturday - pack free.

The path we were following was the Clinker Trail.  Certain rail enthusiasts following this blog will immediately recognise, by its name, that this referred to the old railway line, now given a second life as a walking / ROUGH cycling track.  It was an easy path, sometimes muddy, but climbing gently and steadily before descending into Robin Hoods Bay.
On the Clinker Trail
The Cinder Track crosses the Coast to Coast path, on its way to the end (or the beginning) of the Coast to Coast Path in Robin Hoods Bay. 
The viaduct just out of Whitby.
Looking back at Whitby 
Robin Hoods Bay, with its steep, narrow and windy streets.


There were a number of houses, probably the old station, which were now lived in, but still called Station House.  On one section of the path we even walked between the old platforms, and on another we walked across old sleepers, still in the ground.
Numerous bridges crossing the old line

The beauty of walking on paths like this is that the path inclines gradually, making walking much easier.  There was a steady climb up to Ravenscar, where we stopped for lunch in a flash hotel, being instructed by a note on the door to remove muddy shoes and boots!  It was a dog friendly place and we decided that if it was alright to have dogs in the dining room, it was OK for us to sit with socks only, along with our mud stained rain pants!
Reunited with our packs and heading to Ravenscar, then Scarborough 
On the way to Ravenscar we had magnificent views of Robin Hoods Bay. 
This part of the path had some mud to negotiate  - with hindsight, compared to what was to come, easy to negotiate!
At random intervals there colourful "mile posts" 

Having said the slope is gradual (for walking) the climb to Ravenscar was so steep for the trains, 1 in 39, that they had to make a run for it, often needing several attempts.  In 1947 a massive snow fall deposited drifts about 12 foot deep, blocking any way in or out of the village for 6 weeks.  The local shop ran out of everything except cans of soup, and the men had to go into the fields to dig turnips from the frozen ground to supplement their food.  Eventually a snow plough made it through from York - loaded with bread and cakes!

We caught a bus into Scarborough from Cloughton as it was completely dark, and we were cold and weary!
Scarborough is decorated with lights everywhere.   Arriving in the city after dark.

Scarborough was a delight.  We stayed in the Grand Hotel - no longer grand, rather, more like a tired old lady, but impressive nonetheless.   It has 413 rooms, several ballrooms, including one called the Palm Court Ballroom (for the unknowing, Palm Court is a style of music), a very grand staircase, a huge public bar, and a number of restaurants!  This hotel was built in Victorian times and is full of the symbolism they were so fond of - it is built in the shape of a V, originally had 365 rooms, for the day's of the year, and 4 towers, for the 4 seasons.  At one point it was the largest hotel in Europe.
The Grand Hotel.  An interesting aside to the hotel is that is was saved from bombing during the war because Hitler had chosen it as his future home and base after the war!
The grand staircase
The entrance
The key holder at reception - one of two.

The Victorians flocked to Scarborough, a spa town, for leisure and for their health. One of the two spa wells was rich in minerals, and drinking the water in sufficient quantities was said to act gently on the bowels and kidneys!  My understanding is that people would come to Scarborough to take the waters, alternating the spa with bathing.   The men would bath naked, but the women used bathing machines which would be wheeled into the water so they could "swim", clothed in swim wear, before returning to the bathing machine where they could change back into their clothes.  It remains a mystery to me though why anyone would want to swim in the icy North Sea, but the Victorians flocked to both Whitby and Scarborough. 
A small pavilion in the extensive gardens above the spa.
Part of the spa complex
The spa
Sadly, the funicular train down the cliff to the beach is no longer working.
The beach.

The next day we caught the bus back to Cloughton, where we began on the next leg to York, but that's for the next post!


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