It was 4:30am the first time I woke, the tent was being battered back and forth and the rain falling heavily onto the outer flysheet. I ventured out in my boxers for a quick wee before diving back into the tent to take cover hoping that the weather would be very different the following morning. At 6:30 I poked my head out from the protection of my sleeping bag to see if anything had changed. Nope! It was still as rough as before, the tent swaying from side to side and the flysheet lifting like a silk parachute. I was expecting the whole thing to be taken up in the with a gust of wind and carried off to the land of oz. All that was missing was toto. I had to get off this cliff and certainly a bit further back as I'm sure I felt the ground shake every time the tent shifted. Now usually I was much better prepared and would have had a little shelter, if not from the rain certainly from the wind. Up here I was completely exposed and feeling a little vulnerable. I struggled around inside the tent packing everything away back into my backpack and decided trying to prepare breakfast was suicidal, at the very best if I could light the stove I'd probably end up setting fire to the tent. Once everything was packed away I battled with the elements as I attempted to pack away the canvas coffin. How I never lost the outer fly in the wind I will never know, it was soaked though and so was the inner, ground sheet as well. It didn't matter though my priority was to seek shelter dry myself out and make a plan from there. A quick look around revealed nothing but clifftops and fields, no shelter in sight. I looked at the satellite images and spotted a structure near brempton cliffs. It was a fair hike and I was getting wetter by the second so I set off stomping my way along the cliff tops, steadying myself as the winds tried their hardest to blow me over.

I'd been extremely lucky with the weather till now and now really appreciated my luck. Ever now and then stopping for a breather and to scope out the horizon for some kind of shelter be it a tree, building or pill box. I thought surely I would soon see something, but that simply wasn't the case.

After a few miles I eventually saw a tree line and the roof of a building. Forgetting everything else I made a last ditched stomp for the building hoping I would be able to take cover and reasses my targets for the day. I dashed at a quick pace across a field and scrambled over a fence and into a car park. The building I had seen was now only a hundred yards away with a welcoming porch and two people standing under it. I had managed to reach the bremton cliffs rspb information centre and with a determined stride I approached at great speed, desperate to join the people I'd seen under the porch and away from the wind and rain that was now biting at my skin.

24^th May 2014

Like a mad man possessed I headed for the refuge of the only shelter I could see for miles. The porch getting closer with every stride I took. I eventually found myself covered by the small roof with two very amused rspb guides sipping coffees and I can only hazard a guess at what they must have thought as this soaking wet hiker with a bag the size of st pauls cathedral stood beside them removing his wooly hat and dripping wet gloves. Well after a short moment getting my breathe back I explained the situation and was immediately offered a nice hot mug of coffee and a seat on their couch in the shop. A lovely group fascinated by my stories of pain and suffering and extremely impressed with my wooden spoon. A couple of them attempting to pick up the bag probably wondering how I'd carried it all the way from Southampton for so long. It was lovely meeting everyone and learning about the birds that could be seen along the cliffs. Did you know that puffins flap their wings 400 times a minute! After about half an hour and several mugs of coffee I stopped shivering and the sun came out so I lay out some of my soaking clothes and the backpack on the bench outside to dry. It was slowly turning into a nice day and after another mug of coffee and a flapjack I decided it was time to head off in hope of seeing my first puffin. Before I left though I was given a caramel slice and another flapjack for the journey. I said my goodbyes, put on my baselayer and jacket which had now dried completely and set off back to the cliffs to continue my journey.

I reached the cliff and made my way along stopping occasionally to watch the birds flying in to perch on the cliffs, it was truly spectacular. I kept hiking along and gazing out at the air display I was privileged to see and occasionally standing on the cliff edges to get better views. Eventually my wish was granted and I spotted two puffins, then more. I took out the phone to try and take a snap but the digital zoom was hopeless so gave up and locked the memory away in my head knowing that I had seen something spectacular and wondrous.

The cliff path spanned for miles with wild flowers blooming and each view as spectacular as the one before. Then, on the horizon I spotted Filey, a small sea side town and the chance for a well deserved break a chance to charge the phone and drink a hot cuppa.

Everything was closed on the promenade so I headed up to the town to see if I could find a bar. There were quite a few steps leading up the steep bank to the heart of the old town but it wasn't too long before I found a pub. In fact what I had found was the oldest pub in filey. A giant of a man greeted me with the biggest rosiest cheeks I have ever encountered. I just wanted to pinch them and say "what a cheeky little chap you are" like a granny would say to their grandchildren, but I figured that would be a little rude and maybe a little inappropriate. I restrained myself and asked if they did hot chocolate or coffee. Unfortunately they did niether however my host said he could make me a coffee anyway. He disappeared and returned with a mug of coffee, some milk and some sugar, no charge! As I have said before the people of Yorkshire are extremely generous. As I sipped my warming mug a couple turned up and ordered drinks. I was about to leave when we started talking. Al and brenda were locals and regulars to the pub and intrigued about the journey I had made which had landed me in this historic place on the Yorkshire coast. I had planned to camp somewhere on the top of the cliffs overlooking the town after seeking a hot meal but their kindness lead to a series of random acts of kindness which included the assistance of their friends peter and joyce.

To be continued. ..