The Pied Piper of Yorkshire

Take 33 Ger­man school­chil­dren and six Ger­man adults and lead them over the Dales and Moors and along the coast of York­shire. God’s own coun­try, as we know.

Day 1, and their bus dropped us at Kilnsey for a walk across Mas­tiles Lane to Mal­ham. Just above Kilnsey there’s a superb pic­nic spot, over­look­ing the vil­lage and the val­ley, and over­looked by rab­bits on the hill­side above. Mas­tiles Lane is easy walk­ing and one can enjoyto the full the lambs, sheep, rab­bits, hares, cur­lews, high­land cattle and larks along the way. Even though there are few gates and stiles, a large party of mixed abil­ity soon gets spread out — I felt like the pied piper lead­ing the raggle-taggle gypsies o! I’d thought it would be fun / pos­sible to lead them down Gordale Scar and indeed, we made nine tenths of the des­cent without incid­ent, but rain in the pre­ced­ing days had swollen the stream and the only shower of the day wet the rock just too much to make it safe. So back up part of the way, and around the hill to come down a gentler way (though one child did man­age to twist her ankle a bit). Stopped for the night at Mal­ham Youth Hostel — very wel­com­ing. Youth Hos­tels are such great places to stay — if only you can work out the sheet sleep­ing bags.

Day 2. After a bit of Ger­man sus­pi­cion of the Great Brit­ish Break­fast (all the more for those who were aware of its delights, there­fore) we headed off towards Mal­ham Cove. Fun ford­ing the stream, and some of us were able to see the male per­eg­rine fal­con stand­ing proud against the sky on the cliff edge, thanks to the watch­ers from the RSPB who had some power­ful glasses to moin­itor the peregrine’s breed­ing activ­ity. House mar­tins sweep­ing around the cove, and ravens after our sand­wiches. It’s a steep rocky stair up the side of the cove, but we all made it, mostly fol­low­ing an old guy in his 60s on two crutches and with one very gammy leg. He reckoned the rub­ber fer­rules on his sticks only las­ted a week or so. Across from the Lang­scar Gate to Langcliffe then — again easy walk­ing on a good track, but unbeat­able high level views. We sat on a grassy knoll for our lunch amongst heartsease and viol­ets with a 200 degree view of York­shire spread out around us. The RAF buzzed us — just a pre­cau­tion no doubt. We stopped at the caves above Langcliffe but I didn’t let my pied piper role over­take me and fore­bore from lead­ing my tail of chil­dren into the hill­side for ever. Between Langcliffe and Stain­forth, our des­tin­a­tion, the path winds through fields on the side of the Ribble Val­ley, and through an old lime works with a lime kiln about 100yards long. The kids asked me if these had been “satanic mills”. I guess so. Stain­forth Youth Hostel was once a coun­try house built by a nou­veau riche indus­tri­al­ist — he even made the Mid­land Rail­way build a tun­nel for the rail­way under his front garden, rather than have a cut­ting there. Another great YH, pity the YHA is intend­ing to close it, though I can very well see that it will cost the earth to main­tain and improve, and is prob­ably not quite in the right spot.

Day 3. On this day we did have some light rain — not quite con­tinu­ous, but per­sist­ent. The black plastic bags we had bought in case of such an event came in use­ful for those who were not fully kit­ted out with water­proof cloth­ing already. Delight­ful walk by the Ribble from Stain­forth to Settle. Blue­bells just fin­ish­ing, masses of wild gar­lic, and also lady’s smock, stitch­wort, all the usual Spring flowers. The foot­path did lead through a field with a bull in it, but the rain must have dampened his spir­its too for he chose to ignore us. The water­falls and pools at Stain­forth would have looked very invit­ing if it had been warmer and drier on the bank. Good cup of tea at “The Naked Man Café” in Settle, before our Bav­arian bus driver took us back to York for a day’s break.

DAy 4. Off to the coast. We dis­em­barked at Lythe, and walked across the fields to the Clev­e­land Way. It was a mag­ni­fi­cent coup de theatre to come up the side of an ordin­ary field on a rather dull foot­path and sud­denly find ourselves on top of the cliffs north of Sand­send with the bay stretched out below. The kids were from south­ern Ger­many and some would not have come across this kind of coast­line before. So down to Sand­send and then along the beach to Whitby as the tide was out. The new Whitby Youth Hostel is amaz­ing — deserves its 4 star status. Huge rooms — won­der­ful views, great café. Some of us man­aged a meal at the Mag­pie — truly one of the great York­shire insti­tu­tions. (Must try some­thing other than had­dock and chips one day — there’s an amaz­ing vari­ety of other good things on the menu.) And the Whitby Co-op stays open till 10 on a Fri­day night for essen­tial supplies.

DAy 5. Off on the Clev­e­land Way along the cliff top. It was noticed that there is only a fence to pre­vent the unwary plunging onto the rocks when it’s a ques­tion of unwary cows — people have to look out for them­selves. But there are some spec­tac­u­lar views and a couple of really nice pic­nic spots along the way. We sat among blue­bells for our lunch. At Robin Hood’s Bay the chil­dren messed about on the rocks while some of us had tea and cakes, then we walked along the beach with half an hour to spare in advance of the tide, to Boggle Hole. As ever, a friendly and help­ful wel­come from the staff. The tide was com­ing in, and quickly cut off the route to Robin Hood’s Bay. Many of the chil­dren dis­played an aston­ish­ing forti­tude by bathing — ideal on the flat rocks with a gentle oncom­ing tide. It was a won­der­ful sight, and some­thing they will prob­ably always remem­ber — one of those golden moments. While they splashed and swam, four sets of walk­ers appeared from the Ravenscar dir­ec­tion, all hav­ing to take off their boots and socks and wade a few yards up to their knees to round the rocks and reach the safety of the road and the cliff path on to Robin Hood’s Bay.

Day 6. The tide had retreated just far enough to allow us to take the beach to the next inlet, and then up across the fields to Ravenscar. Gorse bright on the hill­sides — much nicer than oil­seed rape. Views from Ravenscar to the North abso­lutely spec­tac­u­lar — espe­cially with the tide out and those curving rock form­a­tions spread­ing out into the bay. Next bit of the Clev­e­land Way a bit dull though, too much samey cliff. We dropped down to Hay­burn Wyke and amused ourselves on the rocks — some of us bal­anced rocks and made sculp­tures. One per­son even showered under the water­fall ! But then on to Cloughton, where the bus awaited.