It appears that I am still on holiday time or more likely a form of jet lag after an 8 hour drive from Cornwall back to Yorkshire........here is the last in the "Best Of......." series. I will be back to normal tomorrow.
There is always a very lively debate over which of the two is the better. Opinions can be split down the middle quite easily. Some who have experienced both will certainly hesitate over a definite choice because each has its merits and faults. I express sadness for those who had tried only one and have a blinkered outlook with no intention whatsoever to be swayed into experimenting with the other. I could be talking about a political party, equally about a breakfast cereal, brand of car or even sexual preference. I am in fact perpetuating the debate over Robin Hoods Bay versus Staithes for the best and most attractive place to stay in a rented cottage on the North Yorkshire coast. Fans of Runswick Bay are excluded. It's rubbish.
Robin Hoods Bay cannot fail to woo and impress, if only on its name which evokes magic and mystery although the origins of the name beyond having no apparent link at all with the famous outlaw are vague.It sits out of clear view just about restrained on the crumbling cliffs to the north of Scarborough and just below the whaling port of Whitby. It is a secretive place shrouded in folklaw, legend and the dubious title as one of the busiest smuggling ports in the UK in the 18th Century. Perhaps the duty evading residents were just fulfilling the expectations of the wider public for those from a village named after an historic champion of the underclass whereas the occupants of 'Payourway Bay' and 'Honesty Cove' went about a much less illegal lifestyle. The cobble road from the car park into RHB is calf and ligament straining in the extreme and even more so if struggling with a suitcase and provisions for a holiday week. Those who take a vehicle down the very steep and narrow incline are faced with very little room to exercise a three point or reversing turn at the slipway or where the road loops up to one of the public houses. On one day trip we saw the aftermath of the rampage of a runaway digger that had only been restrained by burying itself into a shop front on the first tight bend. The peak of summer is a good time to avoid the village as it overflows with visitors and cottage renters to the point of being claustrophobic. In the autumn or early spring the village is ghostly and empty but the echo of footsteps and the whistle of the wind through the streets gives the impression of being sole survivors of a global catastrophe. It takes a few years of out of season stays to become familiar with the footways and back alleys but they form an intriguing exploration of the ginnels, courts and dead-ends always with the accompanying smell of wood smoke from a hundred or more chimney pots. We have had the pleasure of renting four or five properties ranging from a double fronted Georgian townhouse with ghost to a cottage with a burrow like almost subterranean kitchen, and a draughty and damp clifftop cottage with exceptional views. At high tide the slipway throws the North Sea into the heart of the village. At low tide the beach and rock pools provide an extensive playground.
Staithes is north of Whitby and tends to be disregarded over the more picturesque and accessible RHB. There are similarities of a steep road down and a busy car park but Staithes is actually a functioning place and not so much a time capsule. It is possible to buy a postage stamp, a latte and groceries without a tourist premium or being swamped with seaside souvenirs and frivolities. The harbourside is broad and open and in the early morning sun, even a wintry one, it can be very pleasant sitting out or leaning on the railings watching the lifeboat drill or the reeling and mewling gulls around the cliff head. The harbour wall can be followed to the entrance over large concrete stepping stones or the huge sea defence boulders and rocks clambered over if living dangerously floats your boat. A small stream feeds into the sea under a footbridge giving endless hours of pooh-stick potential. With the tide out the stream can be followed a few hundred metres inland around the brightly coloured hulls of small cobbles and smacks. The village was the home to Captain James Cook in his formative maritime years from 1744 and it is easy to imagine that period with very little having changed in terms of buildings and atmosphere. One of the cottages we rented was down Fishermans Terrace, just off the main street and close to the pub.Other holiday breaks were higher up the escarpment with rooftop views over red pantiles streaked with guano and blackened by a few chimney fires from those getting a bit carried away with their first introduction to solid fuel without an instruction manual or in the strangely welcome absence of a signal to allow consultation of the smart phone and tablet. After the day trippers have wheezed up the steep hill to their parked cars it is quiet and very peaceful in the village. Activities in front of a roaring log fire include putting together a well worn jigsaw puzzle, building a large tower out of bits of kindling wood or steadily exhausting the cottage collection of VHS cassettes and trashy paperback novels of romance on horseback. Staithes is a place for genuine tradition and authentic living and you are more likely to strike up a conversation with an actual resident than an accountant from Slough slumming it up north.
I am completely divided in my allegiance to the two wonderful places. They have both, in their own way, excelled in meeting expectations and requirements for a family holiday at different times and in different circumstances. When something special has been called for to revive flagging spirits and energy levels we have not been left disappointed- not like those who chose Runswick Bay 'cos it really is a bit rubbish.
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