Walking the Dogs

Christmas was a lovely, relaxed affair, but there comes a point during the Christmas festivities where I really just need to get out of the house. I don’t just mean the daily walk around the block with Thelma, or wandering around shops but a proper blow the cobwebs away and feel the wind on my skin walk out in nature. 

So, Monday, the chap and I decided to venture to Robin Hoods Bay to walk the pups along the beach. We arrived around mid-morning and the weather was grey and murky. It wasn’t enough to put us off though, we were well wrapped up and after grabbing a coffee at the top of the village we started down the hill.

Many of the little gift shops were closed, but we wandered along the alleyways and admired the brightly coloured doors. Robin Hood’s Bay, just like Staithes, is one of those unspoilt fishing villages that I absolutely adore. At one time I dreamed of retiring to one of them (albeit I’ve got a lot of years before retirement) but given that so many of the quaint little cottages are now holiday homes I wonder how the sense of community is bearing up.

Bruno in his Christmas jumper

Nonetheless, both are within easy reach for days out. We reached the bay, and although the tide was starting to retreat, it was still battering the causeway and it would be some time before we could set foot on the beach. We decided to get some lunch in the Bay hotel, as luck would have it we managed to get the last table in the downstairs bar.

We enjoyed a pint and a burger and chips each, enjoying the bustle and olde world feel of the bar while looking out towards the bay to see when we would be able to emerge.

 

Soon enough we were scrambling across rock pools carrying dogs with us (Bruno is still so small and Thelma is afraid of water). I was thanking the heavens that I’d put my rugged hiking boots on, I needed them, but before too long we were on sand and the dogs were having a whale of a time.

The beach was busy, mostly with dog walkers. Lots of pups came over to greet our two, and I didn’t really have much sympathy with the person I over heard complaining that the beach wasn’t dog free given that for most of the summer, certainly in Scarborough, much of the beach is a no go zone with dogs. 

We walked past Boggle Hole, but then we could see our four legged friends were getting tired. We’d been walking for almost an hour, so we turned back to the village. It was starting to rain, so we took shelter in a cafe over hot latte’s, and finally finished up in a dog friendly pub, the Laurels, sipping alcohol free beers. 

By the time we were back at the top of the hill, all four of us were exhausted but happy. Sometimes there’s nothing quite like a long wild walk to wake the senses.