A Stroll With Stu: six-mile walk around Runswick Bay, near Staithes, sees spring burst into life

The early March snow and gales had succumbed to warm sunshine, daffodils had replaced the snowdrops, birds were twittering and green shoots were sprouting all around.

It were reet lovely!

Start at the North end of Hinderwell (served by Arriva’s X4 bus from Whitby and Middlesbrough) and follow the road opposite St Hilda’s Old School, soon turning right along Rosedale Lane.

Follow it until it reaches the sloping cliffs above Port Mulgrave and turn right to follow the signpost advertising “Cleveland Way – Runswick Bay” (I wonder if they have, once again, replaced the footpath down to the old port which was rebuilt a couple of years ago with the aid of some elaborate metal steps, only for it to lose another battle with gravity a few months later?)

This is a lovely and reasonably level stretch, with cracking views out to sea.

A mile or so on, the path bears sharp right to emerge on the road, adjacent to the Runswick Bay Hotel. (No, don’t, it’s too early and we’ll back this way later).

Carry straight on along Ellerby Lane and, in a little dip in the road (100 yards after the last house on the right), take a clear path on your left up through bushes onto the old Loftus to Whitby railway line.

This line was so troubled with engineering issues (crumbly tunnels, landslips, matchstick viaducts and the like) that it was closed down several years before a slavering Dr Beeching reached across his desk for a rail network map and a large bottle of Tippex.

Now, unfortunately, a few hundred yards along the pretty track, I encountered a gate that was locked firmly shut with a chain and padlock that wouldn’t have shamed Fort Knox.

There were no signs, but a handful of locals told me that the gate was locked because of a nearby flaky bridge that hadn’t got a thumbs up after a risk assessment.

Bizarrely though, that bridge is actually behind you, closer to the road, so if you’ve made it to the locked gate you must either retrace your steps across it or climb the gate and carry on.

To be honest, it’s your choice really and maybe you should just go down and have a stroll along the beach and back.

Since I’d already passed the so-called hazard, I carried on – as did those five locals.

I’ve done this route once before, and took a left turn at the first house along the old railway.

The wide track got close to Runswick Beach, but in the last 100 yards descended into an impenetrable mass of thorny bushes where, I suspect, they invented Velcro.

Bits of my jacket and trousers will still be down there and with those local walkers confirming that the path still promises an untimely demise, I carried on along the old iron way.

The track bends relentlessly left, to such an extent that Runswick village can soon be seen almost ahead of you.

I had in mind another footpath which also leads down to the sand and while it looked benign at the rail track end, a quick look on Google Earth suggested that a second murky web of barbs and spikes awaited near the beach and so I plodded on.

There are a number of sturdy stone bridges to pass under – you’ve got to admire the expense and effort that went in to building these old railway lines – and on reaching (I think) the fourth, you need to climb up left ahead of it to reach the track that it supports. (This is the first overbridge you reach

after the old railway line begins to bend slightly right).

Follow an obvious path that bears left downhill in a grassy field, to cross a stile onto the ribbon of slop that defines the Cleveland Way until it finally dries out in April.

Turn left and prepare for what is an incredibly long and steep descent down steps, through the gorse and ultimately flirting with a racy brook to finally plunge onto the rocks and sand of Runswick Bay beach.

And what a beauty she is.

Much quieter than its sister at Robin Hoods Bay, if you don’t enjoy strolling along here admiring the seabirds, the views out to sea, the low cliffs and the approaching white cottages of the village tumbling down the hillside, then you are reading the wrong column.

Pass the hob holes in the cliffs where hairy little goblins live, (actually created by people hunting for Whitby jet), and walk on into the village.

Replenish your strength in the gorgeous beer garden of the Royal Hotel (sister pub of the Runswick Bay Hotel at the top), before ascending vertically back up to catch the bus home.