A classic clifftop traverse

The Cleveland Way runs for 109 miles across the North York Moors, from the market square at Helmsley to the headland at Filey Brigg, but ask anyone who has walked it which stretch they would do again tomorrow and the answer is nearly always the same. Whitby to Robin Hood's Bay is roughly seven miles of high, unfenced cliff path, and it packs in more drama per mile than almost any coastal walk in England.

You start beside the ruins of Whitby Abbey, with the harbour and the whalebone arch behind you, and you finish on the cobbles of a village that seems to have slid down a ravine and decided to stay there. In between there is nothing but sea, wind, seabirds and a path that keeps pulling you onwards.

Getting there and back again

Most people walk it one way from Whitby, which is the sensible option because the transport works better that way. Leave the car in one of the long-stay car parks on the west side of the harbour, then take the seasonal bus service that runs between the two villages. It picks up near the top of Robin Hood's Bay rather than down in the old village, so leave a little time for the climb at the end.

Timetables thin out considerably outside the summer season, so check the times before you set off rather than at the bus stop with wet hair. If you would rather not rely on public transport at all, the walk back is perfectly doable — it makes a long but satisfying seventeen-mile day, or a gentle overnight if you book somewhere in the middle.

What the path actually feels like

This is not a technical walk. There is no scrambling and no significant ascent beyond a handful of sharp little dips into the gullies that cut through the cliffs. But it is relentless in its own way: nine hundred feet or so of cumulative climbing, mostly in short bursts, on ground that can be muddy in winter and baked hard in summer.

• Whitby Abbey to Saltwick Nab — an easy opening mile along the clifftop, with fine views back over the harbour mouth and the abbey on its headland.
• Saltwick Bay — a steep little descent and climb where you will want to watch your footing.
• Hawsker and Maw Wyke Hole — the long, level middle section, mostly grass, mostly empty, with wide views along the coast.
• Ness Point to Robin Hood's Bay — the finest stretch, with rocky scars below and the village appearing suddenly in the distance.

Follow the acorn waymarkers and you cannot go far wrong, but keep an eye out where the path splits — some of the inland alternatives are considerably longer.

Shipwrecks, jet and alum: the heritage underfoot

The cliffs here are not just scenery; they are a history book. At Saltwick Nab you can still trace the remains of alum works, which quarried and processed shale here from the seventeenth century onwards to supply the dyeing and tanning trades. Further along, the low mounds and hollows in the fields mark old jet workings, the fossilised wood that Whitby jewellers have been carving since the Victorian craze for mourning jewellery.

Below Saltwick, the wreck of a hospital ship that ran aground in 1914 lies in the shallows — a sobering reminder that this coast has claimed hundreds of vessels over the centuries. Whitby itself grew rich on whaling and on the Baltic trade, and the town's most famous seafaring son learned his craft on colliers working this very shoreline. Walking the path gives you a sense of all of it at once.

Seabirds, seals and the season to go

Between April and July the cliffs are loud with kittiwakes, fulmars, guillemots and razorbills, with puffins occasionally putting in a cameo appearance on the more sheltered ledges. Gannets wheel offshore in the summer months, and grey seals haul out in the bays, often following walkers along the coast out of pure curiosity.

Spring and early summer are the best months for wildlife; autumn gives you crisp light and empty paths; winter is for the hardy and the well-booted only. Whatever the season, keep well back from the edge. The boulder clay here crumbles without warning, and the path is often rerouted inwards after winter storms — follow the new line rather than the old one.

The reward at the end

Robin Hood's Bay arrives all at once. The path drops through a wooded ravine, past the old coastguard cottages, and then you are on the steep, cobbled main street with its pantiles, whitewashed walls and little smugglers' passages running off at odd angles.

There are tea shops and old inns down by the water, and a decent pub lunch here tastes better than almost anything you will eat all year. If the tide is out, wander onto the beach and hunt for ammonites, belemnites and the odd piece of jet in the shingle. The climb back up to the top of the village is steep, so give yourself twenty minutes and a bit of dignity. Take a waterproof, take a flask, and take your time — this is a walk to savour rather than to tick off.