SALTBURN is featured in one of my reference books published in 1901 and its detailed description describes the town as very new. Another reference labels it a modern Cleveland watering place while the incomparable Nikolaus Pevsner’s Buildings of England series opens with: “The railway came in 1860-61l and developments were started at once with great zest.”

Such references confirm that Saltburn is a youngster!

Recently my wife and I spent a short time in Saltburn, admiring the large and smooth beach, the quiet pier and Cat Nab, formerly an ancient village now known as Old Saltburn. It rests below the cliffs with the height and might of Hunt Cliff rising behind. This eminence does remind us of some ancient history because it was formerly a Roman signalling station.

However, the town of Saltburn on the cliff top is a mere 150 years old or thereabouts and therefore lacks the olde worlde charm of Whitby, Staithes and Robin Hood’s Bay. The impressive buildings on the cliff-top make the town appear organised and clean with fairly new buildings but little to match the ancient sea-faring history of its neighbours.

In his Picturesque History of Yorkshire (Dent 1901), JS Fletcher reminds us that Saltburn has no ancient history, either ecclesiastical or otherwise. Much of the town can be dated to the mid-19th century and owes its existence to the wealth and enterprise of the Pease family. Led by Henry Pease, a Quaker and ironmaster, the family fortune arose from the steel industry of Teesside and he wanted to design and build a resort that would appeal to all his workers – but with no alcoholic drinks being available.

The result is astonishing. Pride of place must go to the Zetland, a former hotel that is visible from a great distance and which stands proud on the cliffs above the pier. Now a block of flats, it dominates the scenery but when it was built as a hotel, it had its own railway platform inside the premises. The rather grand railway station nearby is still in use, and forms a focal point for the new town on the cliff top.

In the early years of this century, the new town was said to have all the conveniences that modern ingenuity could supply – large comfortable hotels, palatial boarding-houses, good shops, wide streets, new churches and chapels, pleasure gardens, a promenade, pier and splendid beach. To that I can add free car parking in the wide streets and a splendid cliff railway that carried us down to the pier then back up to find a nice bistro for lunch. The pier, almost quarter of a mile in length, offers wonderful views along the coast, particularly to the west.

Sadly, the views to the east are obstructed by the bulk of Hunt Cliff which boasts a dramatic cliff-edge footpath overlooking the sea. In fact, that cliff can claim some ancient history because it was a former Roman signalling station most of which has been sacrificed to coastal erosion. The signalling station is thought to have dated to around the 4th century, this being determined by coins found at the location.

Worthy of interest and exploration are the marvellous Valley Gardens. With a footpath leading through a peaceful glen offering a two-mile walk, the Gardens have a maze of footpaths to suit everyone along with gardens, a miniature railway, woodlands both cultivated and wild, play areas, seats for the weary and tearooms with a wide variety of food and drink.

And, so I am told, there is an underground tunnel leading from this valley to the Ship Inn close to the shore at Old Saltburn. It was supposedly used by smugglers when trying to avoid capture!

Ending our visit with ice-creams to enjoy while overlooking the beach from the cliff top, we enjoyed our short visit to Saltburn. It was not our first trip to his unusual seaside resort, but it will not be our last.

Vanishing point

Another place with remarkable views is the escarpment at Sutton Bank near Thirsk. My wife and I often visit the locality and enjoy a gently-paced trek along the cliff top because it is flat!

It provides remarkable views into the Yorkshire Dales but often produces surprises. On a recent walk, I commented that it seemed to be unnaturally silent because there was none of the usual bird song and no sign of their presence. Usually, we see various species flitting among the trees, shrubs, undergrowth and woodland; it is usually very busy with the resident species.

They include a variety of finches and titmice along with robins, blackbirds and perhaps a thrush or two or a wood pigeon. There are others and we’ve often heard long-tailed tits twittering in the trees or noticed siskins seeking food among the birches and conifers. But on that day there was nothing. The lack of birds twittering was ominous, I felt.

At first, I attributed this to the arrival of autumn when the birds would not be mating or nesting despite some mild days. Even so, I reasoned it was not normal – there must be another reason for the funereal atmosphere. The answer came after few more strides.

A peregrine falcon was quartering the land at the foot of Sutton Bank, checking the patch towards Thirsk and the Dales. Occasionally, it checked the cliff faces but appeared to be concentrating on the woods and fields below the cliff-face while flying lower than the level upon which we were walking. Its presence had frightened away the resident birds.

We looked down upon it but only for the briefest of moments. Astonishingly it vanished before my very eyes.

I saw it suddenly perform what can only be described as a short but amazing aerobatic display. It seemed to halt, twist and turn all at once in mid-air, and then, with a flick of its wings, it had gone.

Quite literally, it disappeared from view. It reminded me of a conjurer’s ability to make things vanish before one’s eyes and despite focusing my binoculars around the spot I had seen it, I never saw it again. I think its colouring camouflaged it against the background of trees and scrubland for it was flying below our horizon.

There is no doubt it alarmed the usual inhabitants of the cliffs but its magical disappearance reminded me that this amazing bird is renowned for reaching speeds of up to 180 miles per hour when diving to catch its prey. So rapid is this descent that observers have reported wind whistling through its plumage and when it reaches its prey, the impact is so great that the victim’s neck or back can be broken. A peregrine will catch small mammals and even birds larger than itself, plus some smaller species on the wing.

In addition to that brief but spectacular moment, our search for the peregrine revealed a pair of roe deer moving through trees on the shores of Gormire Lake. The views from Sutton Bank are always full of surprises.