‘Magnificent in its autumn beauty’: a visit to Danes Dyke

This Place, a column by Vicky Foster

Exploring Hull & East Yorkshire

On the curving road between Sewerby and Flamborough there’s a half-hidden lane that leads to Danes Dyke.

As soon as you turn onto it you’re somewhere special. The dyke falls away on one side and the autumn light slants in through a slope of trees on the other. It’s long and winding with regular speed bumps. You’ve got no choice but to slow down, which is exactly what we came for.

The walled grass car park is closed today. It’s wet and no doubt muddy enough to get your car stuck in, but there’s a gravel car park where you need to pay and display. It’s a bargain though – 60p for an hour or £1.40 for two – and you can pay by text if you’ve got no change. You can park all day if you like, but two hours is enough for us today.

I’ve been coming to Danes Dyke for 30 years, and although I’ve always loved it I realised I didn’t know much about it. It’s worth looking at www.danesdyke.com before you come. It turns out Danes Dyke is “a Scheduled Ancient Monument of national importance”, a Sensitive Marine Area, and a Special Area of conservation. In 1979 the area was designated a Heritage Coast because of its rich history and landscape.

There’s a hatch that sells coffee, tea, sweets, crisps, ice-cream, cold drinks and cakes, but it’s closed today and will stay closed for the winter. We head down the side of this building to find the steps that will lead us into the woods and pass the lovely old brick wall that edges the grass car park.

I’ve always liked this wall, which might sound strange, but it’s pretty – and it makes a good backstop for rounders and cricket, which is what we used it for when I was a teenager, and when my kids were small.

I also discovered from the website that this part of the reserve was used as the site of a house for the Lady of the Manor of Flamborough, back in 1873. The house was only demolished in 1953, so maybe this wall is something to do with that.

The route we’re taking leads us, by way of a lot of steps, down into the dyke, where we are surrounded by trees on all sides. It’s magnificent - especially at this time of year, though I am probably slightly biased about that. Autumn is my favourite season; the colours, the smells, the textures underfoot.

INVIGORATING: A walk along the beach at Danes Dyke

The wooded area here doesn’t disappoint in any of that. There’s a russet carpet of fallen leaves, yellowed leaves still clinging to some trees, but there are also lush green ferns spreading themselves out in the soft soil. It’s almost silent.

There’s the odd bird call, a light aircraft trailing somewhere nearby, too high for us to see. I can’t hear the sea yet, but I know it’s coming. That’s one of the reasons that this is one of my favourite places. You don’t have to choose between sea and woodland when you come here. You get spectacular slices of both.

We take a wet, muddy path that leads us up and out of the ravine we’ve been walking in, joining a gentler, more open path which is skirted by woods on one side and a golf course on the other. There are junctions here where you could opt to take a coastal route to Sewerby or Flamborough – both of which are well worth a visit.

If you want to make a day of it, I’d recommend a wander along the clifftops to Sewerby and a visit to The Ship Inn, once restrictions are lifted again. They do a gorgeous Sunday lunch, they’re warm and welcoming, and they’ve even got a dog menu – our cockapoo Max rather enjoyed the Cumberland sausage.

Today though, I’ve got one goal in mind, and we continue along the main path as it begins to wind downwards again, more gently and with regular wooden steps. The land drops away sharply on one side, and it’s still wet and slippery. You do need to be steady on your feet and wearing good shoes if you’re going to visit at this time of year.

‘A RUSSET CARPET OF FALLEN LEAVES’: The woods at Danes Dyke

You will be handsomely rewarded though, because as you progress, you’ll feel the atmosphere start to shift. The sea sounds calm today. Before we reach it, we hear only a gentle lapping, the sound of pebbles being picked up, rolled and gently dropped again, and it’s not long before we spot it.

The light is soft pink and muted, the water reflecting back lilac and grey. The cliffs form a natural frame for the first view of the beach, and the chalk-white pebbles are stunning against the trees and sky and sea. It isn’t until we cross the boundary of seaweed between the mud and the chalk that it begins to smell like the seaside, though.

The pungent saltiness announces the switch of environment and it’s a very satisfying tactile experience to pass from the slip-slide of mud and leaves to the jarring clunk of white stones, and then onto the velvet soft sand and the rubbery squelch of seaweed - which has all the satisfaction of popping bubble wrap and none of the environmental repercussions.

On the subject of the environment, there are signs here declaring this a ‘No Take Zone’ and explaining why. I mention this, because it really is tempting to fill your pockets with the smooth stones or bits of seaweed. You’ll have to make do though with touching and not taking. Not that this feels in any way like making do.

The bright openness after the dim woods provides more sensory stimulation, and when there’s any wind, this is a really brisk spot to stand. Even today, when it’s calm, it’s invigorating to walk here.

GOLDEN: The view south to Bridlington

Today the huge yellow sun has dropped almost to meet the sea as we look south along the coast to Bridlington. It obscures some of the long sweep of cliffs and the sight of Bridlington’s big wheel and a church spire that you can usually see from this spot.

But the wind turbines are still visible off the coast, spinning at speed, mesmerising and hopeful. Looking north the cliffs curve away to where Flamborough hides in the next bay. Ten minutes here is enough to soothe away troubles, I find, and when we take the steep, straight tarmac path back up to the car park, we’re refreshed.

There’s one treat left in store from this trip though, and that’s the glow of the butter-yellow sky we get to see on the way home, against the stark black-tangled branches of the almost-bare trees that edge the long low fields of this beautiful part of East Yorkshire.