Introduction


When we started walking the coast of England we had no intention that this would become a major lifetime project. Having to make a last-minute arrangement for our summer holiday in 1987, we said "Let's go to the nearest piece of coast and see how far we can walk along it." It turned out well and we started adding further stretches of coast, initially once every two years, but soon annually, or even twice a year.

We had always enjoyed the coast - there is something refreshingly "edgy" about having the sea always at our side, and one of us was into marine molluscs. We also enjoyed long-distance walking and had long been involved in general natural history recording. This project enabled us to combine all three interests.

You soon discover when embarking on a project like this that you need a few rules, which evolve from the first experiences. Our main rule was that we should walk as close to the coast as possible, which meant beach-walking whenever we could (unlike the official coast paths that largely remain above shore, recognising that at high tides the beach may be inaccessible). The route should also be capable of being a continuous walk, so that when we came to an unfordable river we walked inland along its banks to the first place at which we could cross, whether a bridge or a ferry.

We only carried light packs, so that at the end of each day's walk we had the problem of getting back to our car where we started. Initially we walked back, but soon realised we would be walking the coast twice this way! We used public transport whenever this was available - buses or trains, sometimes adjusting our start and finish points to make this easier. Failing this - and it was often not possible - we would phone for a taxi (an increasingly costly option over the years). Having our car with us gave us more freedom as to where we could stay at night - and after a day walking and only light food we were usually ready for being spoiled by a good meal and a comfortable bed! Even so, we stayed on the coast itself whenever there was a decent option.

Each walk was made for enjoyment, it was not a route-march to see how quickly we could get it finished. We therefore took it gently at times when passing through pleasant scenery or where there were many plants or creatures to record.

In terms of biological recording, we systematically noted every bird, butterfly, creature or sea-shell that we came across, sometimes spending time searching for the shells. We could not record every plant in the same way - there are too many common ones - so we were more selective, noting all coastal plants and any others that were not run-of-the-mill.

In our daily posts, edited from our original diaries, we include a star-rating from no star to **** according to our subjective estimate as to how special that day was from the point of view of natural history. This score (and our daily records) will, however, have been affected by the weather - it is difficult to appreciate the environment fully, for instance, in torrential rain, and there are many more butterflies and other insects to be seen in warm sunshine!

A summary of all our natural history records on the walk can be found using this link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1LLGD55lKRHYXd1SGU1QndrcUU/edit?usp=sharing





Friday, 31 January 2014

Yorkshire: Staithes 12/6/2007


 

Wild cabbage leaves and garden parsley
 
Staithes Harbour
We arrived at Staithes the night before, with time to explore the little town of higgledy-piggledy cottages and narrow passages, cobbled streets and piles of lobster-traps.  Roxby Beck flows by the west side of the town under the cliffs of Cowbar Nab where herring gulls and kittiwakes nest on red sandstone ledges.  The harbour here has steep sides with abundant escaped garden parsley, red valerian and wild cabbage.  Slender thistle grows in cracks between paving and cottages.  Little cobles (the lobster fishermen’s boats) lie with their rope stays dangling with green seaweed.  On the east edge of town, however, is another harbour with sandy beaches, above which is a former square, one side of which is missing since the row of houses was destroyed by the sea, including the house where Captain Cook once worked as an apprentice.  Looking back from the outer harbour many of the cottages are well hidden and sheltered from the weather.  Our rooms are part of the Endeavour Restaurant on the cobbled High Street.  We took several walks around the alley-ways, which twist all ways and go up and down, sometimes stepped, to accommodate the houses that were obviously built individually over time all over the steep hillside with no street plan.  Many of them were empty, functioning only as holiday lets.  Few houses have gardens and make do with stone troughs beside the door or grow rockery plants on their roofs.  One alley entering Church Street, Dog Loup, is so narrow that we had to turn sideways to get through!
Slender thistle
 
Emerging from Dog Loup, Staithes
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