Introducing the Bay

 

Robin Hoods Bay lies six miles south of Whitby, and fourteen north of Scarborough. Its red-roofed cottages perch on a cliff and around a stream-cut ravine, tucked well into the northern arm of a bay which, sweeping in a miles-wide curve from Ness Point to the mighty Ravenscar cliffs, is one of the loveliest on England’s coast line. Behind it the land rises steeply several hundred feet high to the Fylingdales moor. In the old Baytown and its environs, which together form the ‘ capital ‘ of Fylingdales parish, live permanently well over 1000 people. Baytown, known simply as the Bay, was an obscure fishing village and reputedly a haunt of smugglers until its unique situation, medieval atmosphere and picturesque appearance began to earn for it a secondary livelihood from visitors. Today it is a showplace for tourists, an itinerary ’must’, but happily its quaint features have been preserved.

The coast here, ribbed with scars and rich in fossils, is geologically interesting. But it is the town, the amazing cluster of red-roofed buildings perched one above another, the labyrinth of passageways and steps, crowded into a breach in the cliffs with remarkable economy of space, a nest crammed tight, that attracts most attention. Happily too summer car traffic is halted at the top of the hill leading down to the shore; the narrow streets and alleys are pedestrian precincts. Although the railway has ceased to function its route has now become a cycle route between Whitby and Scarborough via the town station, from near where a good local bus service operates. The old fishing cobbles are still to be found drawn up in the dock, in the boatyard and now down the access slope behind the new sea wall. Sometimes a local man pushes out a dinghy and later, for those in the know, there is fresh boiled Bay lobster for tea.

The charm of Bay is infectious. It will never leave you and once having conquered, becomes even more subtle. The time spent here has a strangely different pace and quality, so strong are the links with the old long vanished community of remarkable people.

 

Panorama of the bay from Stoupe Beck

walking the railway track

crossing the stepping stones with hangovers aiding balance

clearing the hangovers before getting to the pub

ye olde dolphin bar

Ye olde Dolphin Band