I visited every UK coast town — these are my 5 favourites
When I set out to walk around the coast of Great Britain, I pictured days of wild country, secluded bays and clifftop camp spots with nobody in sight.
I like my own company. Other than my Greyhound, Beano (who spends most of his time asleep), I'd lived alone for several years and was confident I'd thrive in the space and solitude that a year in nature would provide.
So it took me by surprise when after the hundredth breathtaking view, I started craving buildings, pavements and people.
It turns out there is such a thing as too much "me time" and whatever size the settlement, a built-up area represented a welcome change of scenery, the opportunity for social interaction and, hopefully, somewhere to buy coffee and a KitKat.
Between them, England, Scotland and Wales are home to 1,114 coastal villages, towns and cities, and apart from the occasional inland diversion, I walked through almost all of them.
I didn't spend long in each. I'd given myself a year to complete this 4,000-mile challenge so there was little time to linger. Instead, I started a list of places to come back to. As the miles racked up, so the list grew. There are dozens of return visits in the offing, but here are five of my favourite seaside stopovers.
Staithes, North Yorkshire
Looking out at Redcar's rainswept helter-skelter, unlit neon signs, and a few reluctant dogs and their trudging, dispirited owners, I couldn't summon much enthusiasm for the day ahead. But just a couple of miles in, the rain stopped and Staithes appeared.
The view down to the village is almost enough to remember it by, but the narrow streets, pretty houses and a sheltered, sandy beach that's as popular with fossil hunters as it is with families, put Staithes firmly at the top of the places-to-go-back-to list.
There are pubs, cafes and tearooms, but not so many that it feels impersonal. I had coffee in Cobbles — a tiny cafe at the bottom of the steep hill where I met a couple who were so taken with the place, that they'd spontaneously decided to extend their holiday.
If I'd stayed longer, I'd have tried the scones at Aunt Dolly's vintage tearooms, and had a drink at the Cod and Lobster — built so close to the sea that locals remember stormy nights when they'd time their dash for the door with a break in the waves — but the Cleveland Way was waiting.
Llansteffan, West Wales
Llansteffan was an unexpected pleasure. Its neighbour Laugharne (pronounced Larn) was home to Dylan Thomas and is better known because of it. But as the quieter, less showy sibling, Llansteffan has plenty to recommend it — including a castle (admittedly there's no shortage of castles in Wales but this was a goodie) and the brilliant Village Stores which sells its own home-made bread and is open for pizza at the weekends.
I sat at one of the painted benches outside and had coffee and a homemade rock cake before walking to Laugharne — a journey which follows both Rivers Towi and Taf and passes Thomas' boathouse among other landmarks.
I stayed at the unique Pantyrathro hostel, which was basic but good value and had hot showers and a decent kitchen. Its owner, Ken Knuckles (who deserves a mention for his storybook name alone) opens the bar to guests and locals at weekends.
Crail, Fife
I hit the Fife Coastal Path early on in my journey when the East Coast of Scotland was enjoying its best summer in years.
With its fishing boats, art galleries and old-fashioned streets, this unspoiled stretch of coastline captured my heart. I was convinced that as soon as I'd finished the walk, I'd buy a van and spend the summers swimming in St Monan's tidal pool, eating Janetta's ice cream from Nicholsons in Pittenweem and watching dolphins at Cellardyke.
A year of campsites and hostels later and I'm no longer quite as sold on Nomadic life, but just as certain that Crail and its neighbours are places to return to.
Burnham on Crouch, Essex
I reached Essex in November — too late to benefit from the ferries that run during the summer months to transport tourists across its many estuaries. Instead, I walked inland to the mouths of the Rivers Blackwater, Crouch and Roach, and back out again to the coast.
This added days to my walk but it meant discovering inland towns I'd have missed otherwise. I took a rest day in Burnham on Crouch, where I had a night in a small but comfy and nautically-themed room, gifted by the Royal Burnham Yacht Club.
With its timbered pubs, sailing clubs and sea wall walks, Burnham has all the ingredients you'd hope for from a seaside town. Best of all, there's the independent Rio cinema where tickets cost a fiver. There are only two screens but after three months of walking, it didn't matter what was showing. Armed with hot chocolate from the Peaberries cafe, my solo cinema trip (it was just me and the box office attendant) felt like luxury.
Kingsand, Cornwall
The day I crossed from South Devon into Cornwall felt almost too perfect. Having walked through every one of the storms, Agnes to Jocelyn, the wind had dropped and the sun came out.
One of my best friends had arrived that morning to walk with me for a couple of days. We took the ferry from Admiral's Hard in Plymouth to Cremyll and walked through the Mount Edgcumbe estate, into Kingsand. There, we bought coffee and cinnamon buns from the Stores (and a pasty to share for lunch) and found an empty bench just above one of Kingsand's three beaches. Fuelled by caffeine and sugar, we followed the South West Coast Path to reach Portwrinkle just in time for the sun to set.
You Might Also Like
