A Journey Through Time and Tide: A Road Trip Along Yorkshire’s East Coast
- Sal Fasone
- Jul 23
- 5 min read
There’s a wildness to Yorkshire’s east coast that never leaves you: not in the cliffs, not in the wind, and certainly not in the memory. From lighthouses clinging to sea-battered promontories to smugglers’ villages tangled in legend, the journey from the quiet fields of Driffield to the northern fishing village of Staithes is less a road trip and more a step into time itself.
Our route began inland, staying at the exquisite Highfield in Driffield, before we headed east and followed the coastline north. We stopped first at Kilsnea, then moved on to Flamborough, Bempton Cliffs, Whitby, Robin Hood’s Bay, Runswick Bay, and finally Staithes—each one offering something distinct, raw, and unforgettable.
Nights at The Highfield: A Regal Start in the Kingsland Room
Before the sea, before the salt and lighthouses, we checked in to The Highfield, a beautifully restored Edwardian house set on the edge of the East Yorkshire market town of Driffield. It’s not just a hotel, it’s an immersion in thoughtful design and warm hospitality.
We stayed in the Kingsland Room, a spacious and elegant suite with lofty ceilings, grand windows, and a soft luxury that managed to feel indulgent without being overstated. The décor, think rich blues, dark wood, heritage wallpaper, and luxurious textures felt both regal and contemporary. A freestanding bathtub and an ultra-comfortable bed completed the feeling of slow living done right.
Each morning began with a salmon and egg muffin, because who doesn’t like that?: perfectly poached eggs, salmon and rich coffee. The garden which is lush, calm, and full of birdsong, made it tempting to stay all day, but the road (and coast) called.
The Highfield is clearly a passion project, lovingly brought back to life by owners who care deeply about local history, quality design, and their guests’ comfort. It set the tone for everything that followed: character, charm, and depth.
Spurn: The Long Light on the Edge of Memory
Our coastal journey began at one of its least known and most haunting landmarks: Spurn Lighthouse. Tall, slender, and weatherworn, this “long lighthouse” stands quietly on a remote stretch of coast, far from the coach tours and guidebook blurbs. The footpath to it is rugged and windswept, the reward an unfiltered view of sea and sky and a feeling of being on the edge of something timeless.
Though long decommissioned, the lighthouse still exudes presence. There’s no café, no information board, just you, the brambles, and the sound of the sea pounding below. It’s the kind of place where silence speaks loudest.
Flamborough Head: A Tale of Two Lighthouses
From Kilsnea we headed to the more famous Flamborough Head, where two lighthouses stand in quiet conversation: the newer, still-operational white tower (1806), and the much older chalk-built lighthouse (1674), England’s oldest complete surviving lighthouse tower.
Here, the chalk cliffs fall away dramatically to the sea, forming sea caves and natural arches. The headland is always windy, wild and glorious. We walked the perimeter trail as gulls coasted effortlessly on the breeze, and the sea below boomed in rhythm.
Flamborough feels like a place that knows how to endure. And that seems fitting for a lighthouse.
Bempton Cliffs: Feathered Majesty
Next came Bempton Cliffs, one of the UK’s premier seabird colonies and an RSPB reserve that feels like a sanctuary in the sky. Standing atop the chalk cliffs, with the North Sea stretching into mist and puffins darting from ledge to ledge, we felt like guests in a grand, chaotic aviary.
Gannets, razorbills, kittiwakes, tens of thousands of birds nest here, filling the air with movement and noise. It’s one of those places where the natural world feels epic in scale but utterly intimate. Bring binoculars. You won’t want to miss a thing.
Whitby: History Writ in Stone and Smoke
Then came Whitby, that brooding beauty of the Yorkshire coast. The town is soaked in legend and steeped in contrast with gothic ruins and cheery arcades, literary shadows and fishing boats, all jostling for space along cobbled lanes.
We climbed the 199 steps up to Whitby Abbey, shrouded in mist and perched like a crown above the harbour. Down below, the scent of oak-smoked kippers wafted from Fortune’s Smokehouse, still using 19th-century methods. There’s something in Whitby that feels eternal whether it’s Count Dracula’s dark myth or Captain Cook’s early sailing days, it all feels alive here.
Robin Hood’s Bay: Winding Alleys and Secret Paths
We wound further along the coast to the steep, storied streets of Robin Hood’s Bay, a village as picturesque as it is improbable. Tucked between cliffs and waves, its red-roofed cottages pile atop one another in a haphazard, poetic mess.
Once a hotbed of smuggling, the village hides secrets in its tunnels and cellars. Now, it’s a place of quiet corners, creaking pubs, fossil hunts, and sea-glass treasures. We spent hours just wandering its narrow, uneven paths, half-waiting for a ghost to pass or a pirate to wink.
Runswick Bay: A Whisper on the Tide
More peaceful still was Runswick Bay, a crescent-shaped inlet where time seems to drift with the tide. The beach stretches wide and golden at low tide, backed by cottages nestled into the hillside. There’s a softness here, nothing sharp, nothing showy. Just calm.
We walked barefoot along the wet sand as children built castles and dogs chased gulls. It’s the sort of place that doesn’t announce itself. It just welcomes you, gently, with sun-warmed stones and sighing waves.
Staithes: A Painter’s Finale
Our final stop was Staithes, a village once home to one of Britain’s earliest artist colonies. It clings to the cliffs like it was born from them, the harbour sheltered by two headlands and the streets winding like veins down to the sea.
Staithes feels lived-in, loved, (and still working) fishing pots stacked on the pier, art hanging in gallery windows, and seagulls screaming over the rooftops. There’s grit here, and beauty too. It was the perfect ending: a place where every stone feels storied, every view like a painting in waiting.
The Yorkshire coast is not flashy. It doesn’t try to sell itself. It simply stands there, layered in chalk and myth and tide, waiting for you to come and understand.
If You Go
Stay: The Highfield, Driffield – Elegant, personal, and perfectly located for exploring the coast. Ask for the Kingsland Room.
Route: Driffield > Kilsnea > Flamborough > Bempton Cliffs > Whitby > Robin Hood’s Bay > Runswick Bay > Staithes.
Bring: Walking boots, binoculars, a warm layer (even in July), and curiosity.
Don’t Miss: Puffins at Bempton, kippers in Whitby, fossils at Robin Hood’s Bay, and sunset at Runswick.
Words and Photos by Sal F.
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