Walk 123 -- Bempton Cliffs to Filey

Ages: Colin was 63 years and 215 days. Rosemary was 60 years and 357 days.
Weather: Cold and foggy — what a contrast!
Location: Bempton Cliffs to Filey.
Distance: 7½ miles.

Total distance: 985 miles.

Terrain: Grassy cliff paths — undulating. Steep descent to the beach, then firm beach sand.

Tide: Going out.

Rivers: None.

Ferries: None.

Piers: None.

Kissing gates: None.

Pubs: None.

‘English Heritage’ properties: None.

Ferris wheels: None.

Diversions: None.

How we got there and back: We were staying in a holiday cottage on a farm near the village of Rudston. Seeing the ice this morning — and then the fog — I declared I was not going anywhere on a bicycle! We drove to Filey and parked on the seafront for free. We knew there was no bus service to Bempton Cliffs, and finding a taxi proved difficult. We eventually came across one at Filey Bus Station, and the driver agreed to take us for £10. (At least we didn't have to pay £3.50 to park the car again!)

At the end, we had our tea and then drove straight back to the cottage — no bikes to pick up, you see! The next day we returned to Bognor.

We had the most beautiful sunrise this morning at the cottage, revealing a thick frost. Then it suddenly disappeared into fog, and that was how it stayed all day. By golly it was cold — we certainly knew it was December today! Fortunately Colin's cough seemed to have abated, though it was still there, and he felt much more himself. He wasn't grumpy at all, and was encouraging me on when I got cold.
We managed to start the Walk at 10.45 which, considering the weather, wasn't too bad. We had to walk through the RSBP Visitor Centre in order to get back on to the cliff path (either that or scramble over a bank) and the staff in there were friendly and chatty. We told them about our Grand Coastal Trek, and they were very interested in what we were doing. They must have thought we were out of our minds to go walking on the clifftop in such dreadful weather but we were determined, having come so far. As we left, they asked us not to fall off the cliff on their patch as they didn't want to be responsible for clearing up the mess!
It was foggy and cold on the clifftop, and there were absolutely no views. However, we could see the edge of the cliff perfectly well so we were in no danger of falling off — besides, there was a fence between us and the edge. We tried to walk quickly in order to keep warm. We were somewhat disappointed to think that we were on one of the most scenic Walks of the Trek so far and we couldn't see a thing! It was quite silent as well, even the birds had more sense than us and were tucked up cosily somewhere out of the cold. It was pretty spooky, even more so when we thought we could hear voices way out to our left. All we could see was a murky grey, but the voices persisted intermittently, it made the hair stand up on the backs of our necks! Then we saw them, two people riding horses along a parallel path further inland — or maybe two ghosts!
We passed a trig point at 135 metres, and were under the impression we were on the highest cliffs in England. But subsequent research revealed that Boulby Cliffs, some 50 miles further north, are in fact the owners of that title. I was trying to cast my mind back to 1989 when I was at an Open University Summer School at Durham University in the final year of my degree course. We were tired, cold and fed up at the end of a long day in the field.
We were taken to the ‘highest cliffs in England’ and they were trying to kid us that the only way to tell a gritstone from a mudstone was to climb up the cliff and chew the rock! As a group of mature students we were all too old and tired for such idiocy, and when one of the lecturers asked, “...and how was this sand transported here?” one wit in the group answered, “British Rail!” I remember that this remark did not go down too well, but I cannot remember whether we were at Bempton Cliffs or Boulby Cliffs!
The bitter wind was coming from the north-west. As we approached Speeton Cliffs, the path took a turn downwards leaving hills to the north-west of us. Suddenly it was much warmer and more pleasant! The fog seemed to lift a little, as well, and we could actually see the beach at the bottom of the cliffs.
When doing my research for this Walk, I had been dismayed to see from the map that the cliff path turned away from the coast at Speeton Cliffs, and would have spat us out on the main road about a mile inland. But a recce on the one rest day we did take this week confirmed that there is a permissive path leading down to the beach. Thank goodness we have chosen a week when the tide is out! There was a seat at the top of this path, but despite the shelter from the hills it was still too cold to sit there and eat our lunch. I regretted not taking any photos the other day when we did our recce — it had been a glorious day with the sun shining off the sea, but now there was nothing to take!
So we began to pick our way down, not too bad at first. It was very steep, but it was a proper path and evened out after a while. We came across a memorial to “David and Elizebeth” (sic), "brother and sister, 1936-1997 & 1945-1996". It did not say how they had died, just “Above the sound of the sea, beneath the cry of the birds!” We wondered what had happened to them, and why their memorial was half way down the cliff. The path degraded further down and we had to pick our way very carefully, but we reached the beach unscathed. It reminded us of the cliff descent we did near Atwick last Sunday (was it really only five days ago?) but here it was grassy and we didn't get nearly so muddy.
We were hungry by then, and fortunately there was an upturned fish box from Whitby on the beach so we sat on that to eat. We didn't linger, it was much too parky! We looked back at the soft cliff we had just scrambled down, and there was no sign of the path we had just negotiated. We were glad that we hadn’t been walking in the other direction, we would have missed the way up completely and ended up at the bottom of Bempton Cliffs. I was disconcerted to see that the beach consisted of large chalk boulders for as far as the eye could see—which, admittedly, wasn’t much in the fog. I was just thinking that walking the final four miles to Filey was going to be impossible when something almost magical happened.While we had been sitting and chewing on our sarnies, the tide had gone out a little tiny bit further revealing firm sand along the water's edge. We were saved! There was a line of defunct pill-boxes which had fallen off the cliff and other concrete rubbish left over from the War, and on the sea side of it all was lovely firm sand.
We walked very quickly because it was so cold, and there was nothing to look at anyway. Yet again we noted houses very close to the edge of these soft cliffs, and in one case a house had been built half way down. Crazy! As we proceeded, the firm sand strip widened giving us much more room. If it hadn't been so cold we would really have enjoyed it.
We stopped at Hunmanby Gap to eat some more lunch, but again not for long because it was too cold to stay still. We hurried on, and saw Filey looming in the mist almost before we knew it. So we quickly ate our chocolate (can't miss out on that!) with only half a mile to go.
We climbed some steps to walk along the prom, and were in Filey almost immediately. It isn't a very big place. It has the reputation of being a rather ‘posh’ seaside resort, but that December afternoon it looked quite gloomy and bleak. I know it was the weather, but I can't enjoy anywhere when I am cold. We walked round an empty paddling pool, and soon came to our car parked on the seafront road. It was only 3pm — is this a record for finishing a Walk?
That ended Walk no.123, we shall pick up Walk no.124 next time on the seafront at Filey. We had a cup of tea in an attempt to warm us up, and then drove to the cottage as quickly as we could and put the heating on. It was a relief that there were no bikes to pick up. We were both glad to be returning to Bognor the next day.

Abandoned Walk!

We had planned to do Walk no.124 on Tuesday, 28th February 2006. We were staying in a holiday cottage in Ripon because we were deciding whether that was the place we wanted to retire to. (We had stayed in a holiday cottage in Malvern a month before, and I think we had already decided that Malvern was to be our retirement home, but we had to make sure.) It was Colin who suggested we did the next Walk during the week we were there, since we were in the area — sort of.
We got up early that morning and drove to Scarborough. It was fine but cold in Ripon, but as we drove East we passed more and more cars covered in snow. The sky clouded over, and before we reached Scarborough we were engulfed in snow! We found the ‘long-term’ car park round the back of the station, and discovered that half of it was under cover — so that was good. The weather was very unpredictable — for about five minutes it would be sunny, then we would be in a maelstrom of snow and hail! We went to the station and decided to go to Filey anyway, but we bought return tickets. As we walked down to the beach in Filey, another snowstorm hit us and we both knew that there was no way we were going to do any ‘Round-Britain’ walking today!We walked along the prom and came across a school party having lunch in the only covered seating area. We had a chat with one of the teachers —they were on a week’s ‘activity’ holiday nearby. I commiserated with their predicament, but inside I (the ex-teacher) was chortling! We walked along the beach in sunshine, then up to a nearby playing field where we got caught in a maelstrom that left us looking like snowmen! So we returned to the beach shelter — now vacated by the children — and had our lunch. We found a café to warm up with hot chocolate, and caught the train back to Scarborough.There were groups of teenagers hanging about in the car park which was hidden away behind the station, and I didn't feel happy about that. The reason they weren’t in school was because it was Shrove Tuesday, which is ‘Skipping Day’ in Scarborough. All schools in the town have a half day so that everyone can take part, but these teenagers were too ‘big’ to conform — stupid arrogant lumps that they are! We had a cup of tea from our flask, and they did move on, thank goodness. We walked down to the harbour to watch those who were taking part. It is an old tradition, started by fishermen, that everyone spends the afternoon of Shrove Tuesday skipping! And there they were — lots of families skipping away on the harbour road which had been specially closed for them, and doing it despite the dreadful weather. It was wonderful!

Walk 122 -- Flamborough Head to Bempton Cliffs

Ages: Colin was 63 years and 214 days. Rosemary was 60 years and 356 days.

Weather: Sunny. No wind. Very clear.

Location: Flamborough Head to Bempton Cliffs.

Distance: 6 miles.

Total distance: 977½ miles.

Terrain: Grassy cliff paths, some very muddy and slippery. Undulating.

Tide: Going out.

Rivers: None.

Ferries: None.

Piers: None.

Kissing gates: None.

Pubs: None.

‘English Heritage’ properties: None.

Ferris wheels: None.

Diversions: None.

How we got there and back: We were staying in a holiday cottage on a farm near the village of Rudston. With bikes on the back of the car, we drove to Bempton Cliffs Nature Reserve where the car park machine was closed up so we thought we could park once more for free. However, before we were ready, they came to open up the visitor centre and we had to pay £3.50! (We were a bit cheesed off about that.) We cycled to Flamborough Head, and I seemed to cope much better with the hills today — must be getting used to it. We locked our bikes to a post near the lighthouse and walked down the track to the spot where we had left the cliff path in the dark last night.

At the end, we had our tea in this expensive car park, then we drove to Flamborough Head to collect our bikes. We returned across country to our cosy cottage.

I really didn't want to get up early this morning, and Colin's cough is horrible. Today was supposed to be our 'rest' day too. I suggested to Colin that we forget about Round-Britain-Walking until he felt better and that we beetle off home early so he could nurse his cough in the comfort of his own home. But he would have none of it! He suggested instead that we forget about a ‘rest’ day and instead do two shorter Walks to Filey instead of one long one which we would almost certainly not fit into the daylight hours at this time of year. He felt it would have been a waste of time driving all the way up here from Sussex (it took us 8 hours) if we didn't make the most of our week. But he really wasn't fit, and his cough troubled him a lot today. He felt drained of all energy, and was slow and grumpy. I was afraid he was going to pass out on me on the cliff-tops, but fortunately there seemed to be a lot of people about on this lovely sunny day so we were never completely on our own.
We did look out for the missing car keys as we walked down to the clifftop from the lighthouse, but we didn't see them. There was also no sign of the couple we met last night. Flamborough Head is beautiful! Neither of us have been there before, and we were blessed with a lovely sunny day with no wind and exceptional visibility. We could hardly believe it was December! It took us an hour to walk round the Head, and were very glad we didn't attempt to do it last night in the dark -- it would have been dangerous.

The views are spectacular! There are caves, stacks and arches in the chalk cliffs, and row upon row of birds' nests. The chalk is layered with rows of flint, and the birds have made use of the narrow ledges to nest. It looked as if they were all neatly layered in apartment blocks! Looking south, Colin thought he could see Spurn Head lighthouse through his binoculars. Like yesterday, I wouldn't look through them towards the sun as it was so bright. I said I would look out for the light flashing when we returned in the dark to pick up our bikes later, but although we looked and looked then we saw nothing. Near the lighthouse was a wooden carved bird sculpture which was almost as tall as me.We sat on a nearby bench to eat some of our lunch, and contemplated the fact that Flamborough Head is equidistant from Land's End and John O'Groats — apparently it is 362 miles to each, as the crow flies. Bet we walk a lot further than 362 miles before we get to John O'Groats, we have already walked 973 miles to get us here from Bognor. But then we go the wiggly way, along the coast.
We were very near the lighthouse, which had been our flashing beacon beckoning us in the dark last night. It was built in 1806, without scaffolding apparently, and stands 85 feet tall. I read somewhere that lighthouses are built up in a spiral, which not only makes them very strong to withstand the weather but means no scaffolding has to be used to erect them. In a nearby field is an older lighthouse which was built of chalk in 1674. During recent restoration of this historic building, doubt was cast as to whether it was ever actually used because there was no sign of a fire having been lit inside it.Time was getting on and we still had quite a distance to go. Colin had been fairly OK up to that point, but then he began to feel really rough. I offered again to pack it in for the day, but he wouldn't. So we set off towards North Landing. I had to keep nagging him to keep up because he seemed drained of all energy and I didn't want to end the Walk in the dark like last night. We hadn't got a lighthouse to guide us today! There were some clefts we had to walk down and climb out of, but they were not as deep as yesterday's. It took us longer to walk than I had envisaged because I hadn't taken into account all the wiggly bits of the coastline at this point—not all of them are marked on the map. The scenery remained breath-taking and the weather remained wonderful, we felt so lucky! Then we saw a kestrel, and that cheered Colin up no end.
There is quite a little community at North Landing, there were a number of people about and we even watched a bus drive down there and turn round. There were lots of notices pinned to a fence which puzzled us. We tried to read a few and thought they were supposed to be jokes, but they weren't very funny. We didn't have time to squint at them further. It all seemed very amateurish, whatever it was. We think they were trying to raise money for a scanner at the local hospital, but we weren't sure — and even less sure how pinning so-called jokes to a fence in Winter, where they quickly become illegible due to the weather, could possibly raise money. We just found it all very puzzling.
The cliffs became even more spectacular after North Landing, but that meant there were even more inlets and wiggly bits to walk round. Time was our enemy, and Colin was so slow! Then he saw a hawk which thrilled him, and he began to feel better. We sat on a stile and ate some more lunch, and he said he now felt he had the energy to finish the Walk — good job, because we were in the middle of nowhere!

As we climbed up to higher cliffs we came across yet another wooden sculpture of a bird. It seemed to be overlooking the whole of Flamborough Head. Ahead we could see Filey (tomorrow's destination) and Scarborough, and inland the high hills of the North York Moors.
We came to Dane's Dyke, about a mile from our destination, as the sun began to set. There we ate our chocolate to give us that final flush of energy. Dane's Dyke is an Iron Age earthwork which stretches from the south to the north coasts of Flamborough Head, 'cutting off' approximately five square miles of land from the rest of England. We passed the south end of it yesterday, it was the first of the deep clefts we had to negotiate. Now we had reached the north end of it which was a large mound. Colin climbed on top of it — I knew then he was feeling better!
We were losing light rapidly as we walked the last mile along Bempton Cliffs. We really didn't have time to linger and look properly, which was a great pity. Bempton Cliffs are reputed to be the highest in England, but looking at the map they come out third at 130 metres. Golden Cap in Dorset is 191 metres, and Boulby Cliffs, between Whitby and Saltburn just a little bit further north, go up to 200 metres. I think some people confuse Bempton and Boulby Cliffs because the name is similar, and Bempton Cliffs are truly spectacular in their own right. Trouble was, it was getting too dark to appreciate them. Perhaps tomorrow when we continue this trek, if Colin is spared!These cliffs are well known for the birds that inhabit them. We were just bemoaning the fact that we hadn't seen any when we spied not one, but two short-eared owls flying off. Colin definitely felt better then! We arrived at Bempton Visitor Centre at 3.30, before it got really dark, and excitedly told the warden what we had just seen. He said there are about six short-eared owls which are frequently seen nearby. A bird-watcher was in there chatting to him when we arrived, and admitted he had never seen an owl. We told him, "Well, get out there now!" But he didn't, he just continued moaning—it takes all sorts...
That ended Walk no.122, we shall pick up Walk no.123 next time on the clifftop at Bempton Nature Reserve. We had our tea before we drove back to Flamborough Head in the dark to pick up the bikes. Then we returned to our cosy cottage in Rudston. I thoroughly enjoyed today's Walk, it has been the most spectacular piece of coast we have walked since the Seven Sisters back in Sussex. Colin would have enjoyed it too if he hadn't felt so ill. I do wish his cough would go away!

Walk 121 -- Bridlington to Flamborough Head

Ages: Colin was 63 years and 213 days. Rosemary was 60 years and 355 days.

Weather: Sunny. No wind. Very clear.

Location: Bridlington to Flamborough Head.

Distance: 81/2 miles.

Total distance: 9711/2 miles.

Terrain: Concrete prom and grassy paths. Flat in Bridlington, undulating on cliffs with several very deep clefts.

Tide: Out.

Rivers: None.

Ferries: None.

Piers: None.

Kissing gates: No.95 as we left Bridlington, on the path to Flamborough Head.

Pubs: None. (There were really, but Colin was not feeling himself!)

'English Heritage' properties: None.

Ferris wheels: None. (Though we heard on the local news that Bridlington has been granted planning permission for a miniature 'London Eye'!)

Diversions: No.35 just past South Landing, where the footpath had been moved inland a few yards due to cliff erosion.

How we got there and back: We were staying in a holiday cottage on a farm near the village of Rudston. With bikes on the back of the car, we drove to Flamborough Head where the car park was FREE at this time of year! We cycled to Bridlington on roads which were hilly at first and I had to get off and walk a couple of times. Once in Bridlington, we ignored all the 'No Cycling' notices and cycled along the flat seafront--much safer than the roads!

At the end we had our tea by the light of the flashing lighthouse whilst chatting to a lady who had lost her car keys in the undergrowth (she did have a spare set!) We drove down into Bridlington to collect the bikes, then returned to our cosy cottage.

We didn't have a very good start to the day. Colin's cough is awful, but he won't give up on the Walks--I did offer. He feels, like I do when I am unwell, that being ill is such a waste of time! We have so much living to do, we haven't time to spare to be ill. He said we have spent a lot of money getting up here and paying for the cottage, the weather and tides are perfect so we'd better get on with it. Then he got his bike out and discovered he had a puncture! That made us later and put us in the rush-hour traffic getting round Bridlington. But we didn't have far to drive, and we chatted to a very friendly local lady at Flamborough Head before we set off on our bikes. I found the going hard--and I am not ill--as had to get off and walk several times.
Despite these difficulties, we managed to start the Walk at five to eleven. First we walked along the new South Prom into Bridlington. There was a lot of art-work and poetry written in the stones--it was mostly about birds, shipwrecks and encouragement to keep fit. We didn't agree with the advice given to walk south in the Winter so that the wind is on your back--there was no wind today, but a blinding sun low in the sky. We were glad that we were not looking directly into it as we were walking north.

We passed the 'Spa Theatre' which was advertising 'Sleeping Beauty' as it's Christmas pantomime, and we were pleased that Bridlington still has an active theatre. Then we turned on to the south wall of the harbour. Bridlington is a working fishing port, and there were a number of fishing boats lining the harbour walls. We wondered how they were all faring in this day and age when the fishing industry is in recession. There were a few opportunist gulls around, and a cormorant perched on a buoy in the middle of the harbour drying out its wings. (My arms start aching if I watch a cormorant in that position for too long!)There was a memorial tablet to lost fishermen on the harbour wall with three names on it. What we found disconcerting was that they had left an awful lot of space under those names for future fatalities--I thought that was a bit pessimistic. Near it was a board which illustrated all the fish they are likely to catch in the North Sea. The blurb told us:

Fish Quay

The harbour has long been involved in the fishing trade from the yawls and smacks of last century to the present fleet of keel boats. Demands for better accommodation for fishing boats and fish buyers increased after the First World War, but it was not until the early nineteen thirties that the seaward end of the South Pier was widened to form a fish wharf with covered accommodation. Further improvements were carried out in 1950, and the present building was erected in 1974-5 with an ice plant added a few years later. The Keel boats vary in size from 20 to 65 tons, and the fish they land is packed into boxes and taken to Hull by road to be sold in the fish market there.

We walked along the South Pier through all the fishing tackle, then a notice asked us to use the upper walkway to keep us out of the way of the working boats. We had a nice view of the harbour from up there--the cormorant was still on its perch in the middle holding its wings out to dry (my arms really do ache!) We descended some steps at the end, and found a heap of ice which hadn't melted in the cold air despite the bright sunshine.

We returned to the landward end, then diverted into town where the toilets boasted loudly that they were FREE! (Unfortunately they were also closed.) I wanted to buy a 2006 tide table and Colin wanted to buy some fish'n'chips because he thought that the local fish would be extra tasty. I succeeded in getting my tide table while he waited for his fish to cook. We returned to the harbour to find a bench to sit and enjoy them--I just had a taste of his because I have lost a stone and a half in weight over the past year and I don't want to undo all that good work. Well, we were disappointed--we don't think they used local fish at all and it was a pretty tasteless meal. Far too much fat!

So we returned to our Walk to work it off. We walked along two central walkways, then out along the North Wall. We saw a boat hoist, and a couple of small boats painted like sharks. Believe it or not, that cormorant was still standing on his perch with his wings outstretched--he must have been there for over an hour! (My arms now ache so much I think they are going to fall off!)So we continued along the new prom, northwards out of town. A funfair was just packing up for the Winter, they must find it worthwhile to run late in the season. No Ferris wheels, though. However, we heard on the local news that the Council has just been granted planning permission to erect a smaller version of the 'London Eye' on that spot as part of the 'regeneration of Bridlington'. (We know all about regeneration schemes in Bognor -- improbable and expensive ideas which come to nothing after years of argument.) The local businesses were all for it, but inevitably there had also been quite a lot of opposition. I shall have to come back and ride on it, when it is built!

The prom itself was only just over ten years old and still looked very new. It is quite jolly with decorative bricks and wall sculptures. Over the red-painted railings we could see Flamborough Head -- our destination -- stretching out in the sunshine.

We took a path up through gardens and found a place to sit and eat our sarnies. Colin looked through his binoculars and claimed he could see the lighthouse at Spurn Head. I tried looking, but the sun was so bright in that direction I couldn't see anything--I didn't want to damage my eyesight so I didn't even try. It was cold in the wind at the top where we were sitting, so we moved to hide behind a bush where we sat on a low stone wall. I sat on my overtrousers as the stone was cold, and Colin got out his foam pad which he had picked up on a walk near Selbourne a couple or so years ago--someone had probably got up after their picnic and walked off without it. Colin suddenly said, "There's a weasel!" but by the time I looked round it had gone. Of course, it could have been wishful thinking on his part because he was beginning to feel really miserable with his cough, and Spurn Head may have reminded him of the weasel we had seen there.
He wasn't very hungry after his fish'n'chips, and he felt unwell but he insisted on ploughing slowly through all the food he had. I was concerned that the sun was getting low in the sky and we still had a few miles to cover. So I packed up my stuff and walked on as he always walks faster than me anyway. It wasn't until we were too far to go back that he realised he had stood up and left his foam pad behind--so I expect it has now gone on to a third owner!

We noticed there were mole heaps in the grass next to the clifftop path. We passed some steps down to the beach which told us that the foreshore is sometimes polluted and advised us not to swim or paddle just there. We wondered if there is still sewage being discharged into the sea at that point--if so it is an absolute disgrace in the 21st century! We passed a cricket ground where the benches were arranged round in a circle, but it is not the cricket season.
Soon we were out of Bridlington and into the countryside. Fortunately there was a good path along the clifftop because now we were on chalk and there was no way we could walk along the beach, even at low tide. I love chalk--I love the way it folds like a soft cloth. Perhaps it reminds me of those halcyon days I spent as a child in Arundel, tucked into the chalk downs. But what I hadn't taken into account when planning this Walk were the deep clefts we had to go down--lots of steps to beach level and even more steps to get back up the other side. The first one took us down through trees where there were wood carvings depicting the different types of tree. It was all very pleasant, but already the sun was low in the sky.
By the time we got to South Landing, another cleft where we had to descend to beach level, the sun was setting. We sat on a rock there to eat our chocolate, and then we got going. Why does there always seem to be more steps up than down? There were wooden statues by the path, a man with a fish on his head(?) and a woman wearing an old-fashioned bonnet. We wished we were not so near the Winter solstice, it was rapidly getting dark. We hadn't time to stop and look. We could see the lighthouse at Flamborough Head flashing away, and knew that our car was parked underneath it. It looked a long way away! We heard a gun exploding out at sea as if to announce the end of the day, but the visibility was too bad to see anything.
We thought we had finished with clefts by then, but there was a third one -- very small on the map so we hadn't noticed it -- and once again we had to descend to beach level. By the time we had climbed out of that it was almost too dark to see.We came across a strange ironwork sculpture which was really too dark to photograph properly. Then we happened on a stone sculpture which had the following legend on the back:

St Oswald is the patron saint of fishermen hence the fish weathervane on the tower of St Oswald's Church, Flamborough. The church also contains the tomb of Sir Marmaduke Constable who is said to have died from swallowing a toad, which ate his heart resulting in his demise.

So now you know — absolutely barking!
By now it was so dark we couldn't see our feet. There was still a warm glow in the sky over the sea behind us, and ahead we could see the lighthouse flashing away in the black sky. The path, at first, was pale gravel, but then it grassed over which made picking out our way quite difficult. "Use your night vision!" said Colin between hacking coughs -- he really was feeling rough. That is what we had to do for the next mile, but I am not a cat and my 'night-vision' isn't all that good. Fortunately we could see the edge of the cliff, but we didn't know what we were treading in.
When we got in line with the lighthouse, we could just about make out an open field gate. We decided to curtail the Walk and take a short cut directly to our shining beacon, risking any barbed wire fences we may have to scramble over/under in the dark.
But we found we were on a track leading directly to our flashing light, and breathed a sigh of relief. What is more, there was a man walking his dog towards us, so we knew we could get out OK. "Have you seen a bunch of car keys?" he asked when he drew level with us. "The lady over there, a neighbour of mine, has dropped them in the grass!" It was pitch dark! We said we couldn't possibly see them tonight, but we would be walking this way in the morning and would keep a look-out for them in daylight. "She's always doing daft things like this!" he said, "I try to keep an eye on her."
We arrived back at our car at last, under the welcome light of Flamborough Head Lighthouse -- it was twenty to five in the afternoon! There was the lady we had chatted to this morning. "Thank goodness you are back!" she said, "I've been so worried about you! When I came back to walk the dog again this afternoon and saw your car was still here, I worried that you were lost on the clifftop in the dark. I was going to stay here until you appeared!" How sweet of her to be concerned about complete strangers, and we tried to reassure her that we had been very aware of the dangers and had kept well back from the cliff edge.
"Are you the lady who has lost her car keys?" I asked. "Oh yes, I'm always doing that!" she answered. "It's all right, I've got spares, but it's such a nuisance. Last time it cost me £70 to get replacements. They fall out of my hand when I bend down to put the lead on the dog, and then I can't see them in the dark!" "What you should do," suggested Colin, "is to put them on a string round your neck!" By then the man had returned and commented, "On a ring through her nose, more like!" They went off laughing together. Lovely lady with a really kind heart, but a little intellectually challenged we thought.

That ended Walk no.121, we shall pick up Walk no.122 next time on the clifftop due south of Flamborough Head Lighthouse. We drank our tea by the flashing light, drove to Bridlington to pick up the bikes (the toilets in that car park were still open!) and then back to our cosy cottage where I made some spicy parsnip soup in an attempt to warm up Colin. But his cough is worse than ever.