Ravenscar Walk: Cleveland Way and Cinder Track Circular Route

Alum Works and Boggle Hole on the Ravenscar Walk to Robin Hood’s Bay

Start your Ravenscar walk in the village of Ravenscar itself. There is roadside parking on Raven Hall Road, opposite the public toilets. Head north along the road towards the Ravenscar Visitor Centre and the hotel. At the bottom of the road, turn left, signposted as the Cleveland Way public footpath to Robin Hood’s Bay. Follow the concrete lane downhill in front of the Ravenscar Visitor Centre.

Ignore the first right turn to High Peak and Chapel Cottages and continue straight ahead downhill. When you reach a split in the track, follow the right-hand fork, signposted to the Cleveland Way. Continue along the woodland footpath downhill, remaining on the Cleveland Way throughout. At the next split in the path, bear right, signposted to the Cleveland Way and Alum Works. Ignore the left fork to the brickworks; you will be able to visit there on your return journey. Continue following the footpath downhill in the direction of the coastline.

At the bottom, continue straight ahead along the Cleveland Way, following the broad twin-rutted concrete track. Shortly afterwards, turn right, still following the Cleveland Way towards the Alum Works. You can either walk around the edge of the Alum Works or straight through the site itself. Once through, head towards the rear of the large stone barn with the archway. Find the path signposted Cleveland Way to Robin Hood’s Bay and follow it.

Go down the steps and back up the other side, then cross the field to a gate, staying on the Cleveland Way. Turn right, following the signpost for the Cleveland Way. Continue along the clifftop path towards Robin Hood’s Bay in the far distance. This section of your Ravenscar walk is very straightforward to follow; just keep to the clifftop path for about three quarters of a mile.

Walk past the old Second World War pillbox and then follow the path to the minor road near Stoupebrow Cottage Farm. Turn right. When you reach Stoupe Bank Farm, follow the path bearing right, signposted to the Cleveland Way public bridleway, and head downhill on a set of flagged stone steps. Cross the bridge at the bottom and continue up the steps on the other side of the valley. At the top, continue on the path signposted to Boggle Hole.

Follow the straightforward clifftop coastal path for just under half a mile. Head down the next set of steps to Boggle Hole. At the bottom, turn right, then immediately left, following the sign for the Cleveland Way to Robin Hood’s Bay and Boggle Hole. Head down to the youth hostel, then cross the bridge and climb the steps on the other side of the valley.

Continue along the path, with Robin Hood’s Bay now clearly visible ahead. At the next junction, turn right, still following the Cleveland Way. Descend the steps into the village. Halfway down, you can turn right if you wish and head down to the café and beach, but otherwise turn left. At the bottom of the steps you will emerge onto a narrow street. Follow the street to the main road in Robin Hood’s Bay.

Turn left and follow the road heading uphill away from the beach. Stay on the main road all the way up to the top to reach the mini roundabout near the car park. Follow Station Road in front of the Victoria Hotel and continue to the next junction. Turn left onto Thorpe Lane, signposted to Fylingthorpe and Scarborough, and walk along the road towards St Stephen’s Church.

Continue along Thorpe Lane as it bears around to the left, then turn left onto a narrower tarmac lane signposted as the Cinder Track to Ravenscar. This is the return leg of the Ravenscar walk, following the route of the old Scarborough to Whitby railway line. Continue straight ahead along the Cinder Track, passing Middlewood Farm Holiday Park on your right. Ignore any side paths or lanes to the right or left; just keep heading straight ahead.

After just over a mile, pass the Stationmaster’s House at Fyling Hall on your right-hand side. Soon after, follow the path bearing left down some steps, across a minor road, and up the steps on the other side. Continue straight ahead for just under a mile. Pass Browside Farm on your right-hand side, then keep following the Cinder Track for about another mile and a quarter.

Nearing Ravenscar, you will reach an area on your left where there is a viewing platform with a couple of benches. Opposite, on your right, is the site of the Ravenscar Brickworks. After the brickworks, continue following the Cinder Track towards Ravenscar. The Cinder Track will rejoin the Cleveland Way; turn right here and follow the route up to Ravenscar and complete your Ravenscar walk.

Ravenscar Walk: Distance, Duration, Statistics

Recommended Ordnance Survey Map

The best map to use on this walk is the Ordnance Survey map of the North York Moors Eastern Area, reference OS Explorer OL27, scale 1:25,000. It clearly displays footpaths, rights of way, open access land and vegetation on the ground, making it ideal for walking, running and hiking. The map can be purchased from Amazon in either a standard, paper version or a weatherproof, laminated version, as shown below.

About Ravenscar

Ravenscar is a small, scattered clifftop village perched some 600 feet above the North Sea, roughly midway between Scarborough and Whitby on the North Yorkshire coast. It sits within the North York Moors National Park and occupies one of the most dramatic coastal positions in the country, with wide views across Robin Hood’s Bay to the north and open moorland stretching inland to the west. Until 1897 the village was known simply as Peak, and it remains a quiet, unspoilt place with a character quite different from the busier resorts along the coast. For walkers, it is an ideal starting point, and this Ravenscar walk makes the most of both the coastline and the countryside that surround it.

The history of human activity at Ravenscar stretches back almost two thousand years. In the late 4th century, around 370 AD, the Romans built a signal station here as part of a chain of coastal defences stretching from the Humber estuary to the River Tees. These stations were designed to warn of seaborne raids by Saxon and Pictish invaders during the final decades of Roman rule in Britain. A Latin dedication slab was unearthed in 1774 during the construction of Raven Hall, recording the names of the commanders who built the tower and fort. The slab is now on display in Whitby Museum. The Danes later destroyed the fort, and their emblem of a raven is said to have given the settlement its eventual name.

The story of Raven Hall itself is one of the more colourful chapters in the village’s past. The hall was built in 1774 by Captain William Childs, a captain in the King’s Regiment of Light Dragoons who had come to Yorkshire with the army and later purchased the local alum works. On his death in 1829, the property passed to his daughter Ann, who had married into the Willis family. Dr Francis Willis had grown wealthy through treating King George III and other European royals for their medical conditions, and it is rumoured that the king himself may have stayed at the hall during his treatment. The family’s fortune was soon squandered, however, by Ann’s son, the eccentric Rev Dr Richard Willis, who was notorious for his gambling habits. Willis was responsible for the gardens and battlements that still surround the building, but when his money ran out, the estate was taken over by his main creditor, William Hammond. Hammond proved a generous benefactor to the village, building St Hilda’s Church and the windmill that still stands on the edge of the settlement.

Today, Ravenscar is a peaceful and rewarding place to visit. The Raven Hall Hotel, which has occupied the site of the original hall since 1895, offers clifftop gardens that are open to non-residents and provide access to the remains of the Roman signal station. The hotel also has a nine-hole golf course, an indoor swimming pool, and a restaurant serving locally sourced food. Nearby, the National Trust’s Ravenscar Visitor Centre provides information on the local area and its history, along with refreshments, and is a good place to begin or end a walk. St Hilda’s Church, dating from the 19th century, is a modest but attractive building worth a brief look, and the old Beacon Windmill from 1858 can be seen on the edge of the village.

Ravenscar also marks the eastern terminus of the Lyke Wake Walk, the challenging 40-mile cross-moor route from Osmotherley, and sits on both the Cleveland Way National Trail and National Cycle Route 1. Grey seals are regularly spotted in the waters below the cliffs, and the rocky shoreline is a popular spot for fossil hunting, though the steep descent to the beach should not be underestimated. Whether you are setting out on this Ravenscar walk, exploring the wider heritage coast, or simply stopping for a cup of tea and a view, it is a place with a rare sense of quiet and history that rewards every visit.

Ravenscar Walk: My Photos

I park on Raven Hall Road in Ravenscar, where there is plenty of space and public toilets just opposite. From the roadside car park, the Ravenscar Visitor Centre sits just below, a small stone building dressed in colourful bunting, with picnic benches set out on the grass. Beyond the rooftops, the coastline stretches into the distance, with Robin Hood’s Bay just about visible on the far side of the bay.

A short walk north along the road and I turn left at a cluster of signposts. The wooden Cleveland Way marker points the way to Robin Hood’s Bay, three and a half miles ahead, and this is the path I follow. The Cinder Track is also signposted here, but that will be my route back. This Ravenscar walk is a circular route, heading out along the coast and returning along the old railway line.

The concrete track leads downhill past the front of the visitor centre, where an information board marks the start of the clifftop path. The rolling green hills inland make a pleasant backdrop, and the early spring sunshine gives the whole scene a warm, inviting feel.

Within minutes, the view opens up beautifully. A small pond sits in the grassland below, reflecting the blue of the sky, while a stone farmhouse stands a little further ahead on the hillside. Beyond, the full sweep of the bay unfolds, the coastline curving north towards Robin Hood’s Bay with its green fields, golden cliffs, and calm, deep-blue sea.

From the same spot, looking east, Stoupe Brow rises steeply to the left, its dark slopes dotted with scrub and gorse. Below, the land falls away in a patchwork of green fields and bare trees before meeting the coastline, which curves gently north towards Robin Hood’s Bay and its pale cliffs in the distance.

Soon afterwards, the path changes direction and heads downhill through a stretch of open woodland. Bare trees line either side, their mossy trunks framed by ferns and last year’s bracken, while glimpses of the sea appear through the branches ahead.

As I continue through the woodland, I reach a point where the view opens up to the right. Looking east, Raven Hall Hotel sits perched on the clifftop above, with the green sweep of its golf course stretching out below it and sheep dotted across the turf.

Emerging from the woodland, I continue my Ravenscar walk down the narrow path as it winds between bright yellow gorse bushes. The coastline opens up ahead, with green fields rolling down towards the sea and the cliffs near Robin Hood’s Bay visible in the distance.

At the bottom I meet a T-junction and turn left along a concrete track, still following the Cleveland Way. The twin-rutted track winds ahead through open bracken towards the coast, with the shoreline stretching north and the sea a deep blue under the spring sky.

I continue down the concrete track as it curves towards the coast, heading for the farmhouse at Low Peak, set in a green field near the cliff edge. Ahead, the view north along the coastline is wide open, with Robin Hood’s Bay and its pale cliffs sitting across the water.

A little further down, I take a right-hand turn at a wooden signpost, still following the Cleveland Way. The sign also points towards the Alum Works, and the path leads past a broken-down gate and down by the side of a green field, heading towards Peak Alum Works and the sea beyond.

I reach Peak Alum Works, one of the most remarkable industrial heritage sites on the Yorkshire coast and a highlight of this Ravenscar walk. From 1650, this clifftop location was a thriving centre of alum production for over 200 years before cheaper manufacturing methods led to its closure in 1860. Alum, a crystal containing aluminium sulphate, was ground into a fine powder and used as a fixing agent in the textile dyeing industry and as a preservative for tanning leather. At its height, the site was one of more than 30 alum-producing works established along the North Yorkshire coast during the 17th and 18th centuries, and by around 1780, Peak alone accounted for roughly 10% of the total national output.

The production process was enormous in scale and extraordinarily labour-intensive. Over 100 men were needed just for quarrying, and they had to extract around 100 tons of Jurassic shale to produce a single ton of alum. Once the overburden was cleared, pickmen cut the exposed shale, which barrowmen then carted along raised walkways to be piled into vast heaps known as clamps, some up to 100 feet high and 200 feet long. These clamps were set alight using brushwood and left to burn for almost a year, a process that converted the aluminium sulphate in the shale into a soluble form and turned the grey rock bright red.

After burning, the shale was tipped into shallow stone-lined steeping pits, where it was washed with water to produce a raw alum liquor. This liquid was then channelled into cisterns and passed along wooden troughs to the Alum House, where it was stored for crystallisation. Peak was an ideal location for the industry: the shale could be quarried directly from the hillside, while other materials needed for the process, including human urine and seaweed, were brought in by boat and landed at the foot of the cliffs. The finished product was then shipped out from the same docks, destined for markets across Britain and Europe.

Today, Peak Alum Works is in the care of the National Trust, which took over the site in 1979 as part of its Enterprise Neptune Appeal to protect the coastline. Clearing and conservation work has revealed some of the most extensive remains of any alum works in Yorkshire, and stone masons have stabilised the structures. The spoil heaps from centuries of quarrying are still clearly visible, great mounds up to 50 feet high and a quarter of a mile long, now softened by gorse and scrub. It is a fascinating place to pause and take in, and the interpretation boards dotted around the site do an excellent job of bringing its industrial past to life.

After my visit to Peak Alum Works, I make my way towards the rear of a sturdy stone barn to continue along the Cleveland Way. It is a handsome building with a red pantile roof and a large arched opening, set in open green fields with the slopes of Stoupe Brow rising behind.

I rejoin the clifftop path and follow it northwards between a green field and the sea. This is a highlight of my Ravenscar walk. The narrow track hugs the cliff edge, with the broad arc of the bay laid out ahead, the pale cliffs, the dark headlands, and Robin Hood’s Bay nestled in the distance.

Looking out to sea from the path above Miller’s Nab, the water is a striking mix of turquoise and deep blue, calm and clear in the spring sunshine. Below, a wave-cut platform of flat, layered rock stretches out from the base of the cliff, exposed by the low tide.

Still on the clifftop path, this time above High Scar, the view north is stunning. Bright yellow gorse clings to the cliff edge, and beyond it the coastline sweeps round towards Robin Hood’s Bay, which is drawing noticeably closer now with each step.

Above Flat Scars, at a point called Peter White Cliff, I come across the remains of a Second World War pillbox perched right on the cliff edge. Its small firing slits still face out to sea, though erosion has taken its toll and the structure is partly crumbling away. It is a striking reminder of the coast’s wartime past, set against the wide sweep of the bay beyond.

Also from the pillbox, looking down, the beautiful golden sands of Stoupe Beck Sands stretch out to the north, lapped by clear, shallow water. The eroded cliffs above the beach show layers of dark and sandy rock, with Stoupe Bank Farm and its red roof sitting tucked into the green fields just back from the cliff edge.

I arrive at Boggle Hole, a place steeped in local folklore. The name comes from a cave in the cliffs here, which was said to be home to a boggle, a mischievous spirit or hobgoblin from northern English tradition. According to one version of the legend, the boggle originally lived in Robin Hood’s Bay village but caused so much trouble that it was eventually banished to this cave, about a mile along the shoreline. It has also been suggested that smugglers may have used the cave to land and hide contraband, though there is little firm evidence for this.

The youth hostel sits at the foot of a steep, wooded ravine, just steps from the beach. The main building is a converted old corn mill, believed to have been built by the Farsyde family to serve the local farms. It has been fully refurbished in recent years and features a cosy lounge with a wood-burning stove, a licensed bar, and pirate-themed décor throughout. A newer annexe, the Crow’s Nest, houses additional rooms and was built with sustainability in mind, with solar panels and high levels of insulation designed to cut the hostel’s carbon emissions significantly.

The Quarterdeck café, open to guests and the public alike, serves food and drinks at reasonable prices, a welcome stop for walkers on the Cleveland Way. The hostel is a popular base for families, with treasure trails and fossil hunting on the beach, and it is within easy walking distance of Robin Hood’s Bay along the clifftop path. Parking is around 500 metres up the hill, and the walk down to the hostel is steep, so it is worth packing light and bringing a torch for after dark.

Down at the inlet, I can see why this picturesque spot is so popular with walkers, beachcombers and fossil-hunters alike. The tide is well out, revealing a shoreline of rock pools, seaweed and boulders, home to anemones, shrimps, crabs and starfish. Oystercatchers often patrol the water’s edge, while herons can sometimes be seen hunting prey in the shallow pools.

The steep, high cliffs above the beach tell the story of the ever-changing coast, with harder, gritty sandstone sitting on top of older, softer mudstone that is steadily worn away by the sea. At the foot of the cliffs, a picnic bench and a charming boat-shaped shelter offer a place to sit and take it all in. It is easy to see why this little cove has drawn visitors for so long.

After Boggle Hole, I continue along the Cleveland Way as it follows a narrow path between a hedge and a wire fence. Green fields stretch out to the right, and ahead, the red rooftops of Robin Hood’s Bay are now clearly in sight, sitting above the cliffs on the far side of the bay.

A little further along the path, Robin Hood’s Bay comes into full view. The village tumbles down the steep hillside towards the sea, its red-roofed cottages packed tightly together above the rocky shoreline. Below, the beach is dotted with people exploring the rock pools and wave-cut platforms at low tide.

I reach the beach at Robin Hood’s Bay and look out to sea. The tide is well out, revealing a vast expanse of wave-cut platform, flat, dark rock broken up by shallow pools and draped in seaweed. In the foreground, an old cobbled slipway leads down to the shore, its mossy stones worn smooth by years of use.

From the beach, I make my way up the steep main street through the lower village. The narrow road is lined with stone and whitewashed cottages, many dating back to the 16th and 17th centuries, with Brambles Bistro tucked neatly into the hillside on the right. Robin Hood’s Bay was once a busier port than Whitby and has a long history of smuggling; it is said that contraband could pass from house to house through a network of underground tunnels without ever seeing daylight.

Further up, the road climbs steeply between tightly packed buildings, with The Laurel Inn ahead and signs for Berties and The Cove on either side. It is a village full of character, with independent shops, cafés and pubs tucked into every corner, and a maze of narrow alleyways leading off in all directions. The climb is a good test of the legs, but there is always something to catch the eye along the way.

After the steep climb through the village, I reach the top of the bank and catch my breath. A bright red collection box shaped like a naval mine sits by the path; it belongs to The Shipwrecked Mariners’ Society, a charity that has been helping fishermen and mariners in need since 1839.

Near the top of the bank, a series of small village greens offer the perfect place to stop and rest after the climb. There are benches dotted around, spring daffodils in bloom, and plenty of space to sit and take in the view with a coffee. It is a welcome spot to pause before pressing on.

Adjacent to the roundabout stands the Victoria Hotel, an impressive red-brick building that has overlooked the village since it was built in 1897. It was originally constructed by a local sea captain and is believed to have mainly hosted sea captains and higher-ranking officers. More recently, the hotel featured in the 2017 film Phantom Thread, starring Daniel Day-Lewis, and has since undergone a major refurbishment while keeping much of its Victorian character intact.

After the hotel, I continue along Station Road before turning left along Thorpe Lane. A short way along, I glance to my right and notice the Methodist Church standing at the end of Wesley Road. It is a handsome stone building with a small turret and large arched windows, basking in the spring sunshine.

A little further along Thorpe Lane, I pass St Stephen’s Church on my right. This is the parish church of Fylingdales, serving the villages of Robin Hood’s Bay, Fylingthorpe and Raw. It was built between 1868 and 1870 to replace the older St Stephen’s Church, which still stands on the hillside at Raw and dates back to 1822, itself on a site with origins reaching back to Saxon times.

The church was designed by George Edmund Street in the Decorated Gothic style and built of sandstone with a red tile roof. Historic England describes it as a highly accomplished design, and it has remained largely unaltered since it was completed. Near the main entrance on the south side stands a large memorial cross inscribed with the names of those from the parish who served in both world wars. The rear of the church looks out onto the Cinder Track, which I will soon be joining for my return to Ravenscar.

After the church, I continue along Thorpe Lane before turning left onto the Cinder Track. A colourful blue and green signpost marks the way, pointing to Ravenscar at four and a half miles and Scarborough at seventeen. This marks the halfway point of the Ravenscar walk, and from here I follow the line of the old Scarborough to Whitby railway back to where I started.

There are plenty of benches along the Cinder Track, and this one has a lovely view through a gap in the hedgerow across green fields and rolling hills. It is a peaceful spot to sit for a moment and take in the quiet countryside inland, a world away from the dramatic coastline I have been walking all morning.

The Cinder Track heads south through a long, green tunnel of ivy-clad trees, their branches arching overhead to form a natural canopy. Dappled sunlight filters through the leaves, and the path stretches ahead in a gentle, straight line, a clear reminder of its origins as a railway route.

Through a gap in the hedgerow to my left, I catch a glimpse of the landscape opening up towards the coast. In the far distance, Raven Hall Hotel sits perched on the clifftop at Ravenscar, though there is still a good stretch of walking ahead before I reach it.

The path passes beneath the first of several old stone bridges along the Cinder Track, this one almost entirely reclaimed by nature, with ivy, ferns and scrub growing thickly over its arch. It is a lovely reminder that this quiet, green trail was once a busy railway line.

On my right, I pass the Stationmaster’s House at Fyling Hall, a small white building that is now a private residence but looks much as it always did. Fyling Hall station opened with the Scarborough to Whitby line in 1885 and was a small rural halt with a single platform, serving a catchment of fewer than 200 people. It was a regular winner of the best-kept station award on the line before becoming an unmanned halt in 1958. The remains of the platform can still be made out in the undergrowth nearby.

Further along, I pass beneath a more substantial bridge where Bridge Holm Lane crosses overhead. This one is far grander than the earlier bridges, with a wide stone and brick arch and a second, smaller arch alongside it. Trails of ivy hang down from above, and the warm light catches the stonework beautifully.

The Cinder Track, which forms the return leg of this Ravenscar walk, follows the route of the old Scarborough to Whitby Railway. The line opened on 16 July 1885 after a long and difficult construction period. The hilly terrain along the North Yorkshire coast made it hard to find an economic route, and although the first parliamentary bill was passed in 1865, a shortage of funds meant the line was not completed for another twenty years. The construction was engineered by Sir Charles Fox and Son and included a number of impressive structures, among them the 13-arch Larpool Viaduct, which carried the line 120 feet above the River Esk near Whitby.

The railway transported goods and passengers along the coast for almost eighty years, and in the 1930s it saw a boost in traffic thanks to cheap fares aimed at holidaymakers. However, passenger numbers were never high outside the peak tourist season, and the steep gradients and exposed coastal conditions made it a challenging line to operate. Trains often stalled on the climbs, and sea mists and storms made the rails slippery and conditions difficult for drivers. The line was listed for closure in the 1963 Beeching Report and, despite a public campaign to save it, closed on 8 March 1965.

The track gets its name from the cinders used as ballast on the railway, rather than the usual crushed stone. After closure, Scarborough Borough Council purchased the former line, and it was eventually converted into a public route for walkers, cyclists and horse riders. It now forms part of National Cycle Route 1 and runs for just over 21 miles between Scarborough and Whitby, passing through the North York Moors National Park for much of its length. Along the way, old bridges, platforms and station buildings survive as reminders of its railway past, and the route is now well regarded for its botanical interest too, with stretches of wildflower grassland growing on the former trackbed.

As the Cinder Track sweeps round towards Browside Farm, I pause by an old broken-down gate and look back to the north. Robin Hood’s Bay sits in the distance, its red rooftops basking in the afternoon sunshine, with green fields and bare winter trees filling the valley between us.

Continuing south, I pass Stoupe Brow Farm on my right, a collection of handsome stone buildings with red pantile roofs set beneath the steep slopes of Stoupe Brow. Some of the buildings in this area have historical links to the nearby alum works, and a number appear to have been converted into holiday accommodation, making the most of this peaceful and secluded setting between Robin Hood’s Bay and Ravenscar.

Nearby, I pass Ewefield House on my left, a neat stone cottage with timber-framed windows sitting right beside the track. The Cinder Track continues to climb gently beyond it, heading south towards Ravenscar.

I stop for a well-earned rest on a simple wooden bench carved with the words “All things bright and beautiful”, and it is hard to think of a more fitting inscription. The view from here is stunning, looking back over the full sweep of the bay, with Robin Hood’s Bay nestled beneath the cliffs, green fields rolling down to the coast, and the blue of the North Sea stretching out to the horizon.

Not far from Ravenscar now, and the views are as good as ever. Looking down through the yellow gorse and scrub, the green fields around Low Peak stretch out towards the cliff edge, with the broad arc of Robin Hood’s Bay and its pale cliffs beyond. What a fantastic walk this has been.

I reach the remains of the brickworks at Ravenscar, which are part of one of the most fascinating stories on the North Yorkshire coast. In the late 19th century, ambitious plans were drawn up to transform this rugged clifftop into a grand Victorian seaside resort to rival nearby Scarborough, complete with hotels, promenades and all the trappings of an elite holiday destination. Central to those plans was the need for building materials, and the abundance of clay and shale in the area made Ravenscar an ideal spot for brick production. The brickworks were established to supply the essential materials, employing local residents and contributing to the early optimism of the scheme.

Despite the initial enthusiasm and significant investment, the grand vision for Ravenscar never came to be. The development was held back by a combination of factors, including the challenging terrain, the lack of any practical access to the beach below, financial difficulties, and ultimately a lack of demand for such an extravagant resort in so remote a location. The town remained largely unbuilt, earning it the enduring reputation as “the town that never was”.

Though the resort failed, the brickworks themselves continued to operate. The arrival of the railway at Ravenscar gave the works a new lease of life, enabling bricks to be transported for use in construction elsewhere, including at Scarborough. Today, the remains of the brickworks and the undeveloped building plots of the unrealised town sit side by side as quiet reminders of the grand ambition that never came to fruition. It is a story that adds a real sense of intrigue to this already beautiful stretch of coastline.

I continue along the Cinder Track on the final stretch of this Ravenscar walk. The path narrows through a shallow cutting lined with bracken, gorse and bare trees, curving gently ahead. The sky has clouded over a little now, but it has been a glorious day for walking.

The path curves towards the last bridge on the Cinder Track before Ravenscar, a handsome stone arch with a red brick soffit, flanked by gorse in full bloom. It is a fitting way to end this stretch of the old railway, and I know I am almost back where I started.

Looking through the arch, a cyclist approaches from the far side and the houses along Raven Hall Road come into view on the hillside ahead. My car is parked just up there, and after a wonderful circular walk taking in clifftop paths, a historic fishing village and a peaceful old railway line, it is a welcome sight.