I’ll never forget the drive up to Scarborough – we’d packed the car to the brim with wellies, maps and enough tea bags to last a siege, only for the sat-nav to chuck a wobbly just outside Whitby. It rerouted us down some narrow lane that felt more like a sheep track, and we ended up with a wing mirror kiss from a passing hedge. Still, by the time we trundled onto Filey Road, the sun was peeking out, and my heart lifted. I’d been buzzing with anticipation all week, picturing coastal paths and fresh sea air, and pulling up to this spacious detached holiday home on the outskirts felt like striking gold. It’s got that perfect family-or-friends vibe, just 2.7 miles from the town centre with local shops and spots close by – ideal for North Yorkshire jaunts without the hassle.

First impressions? Spot on. We dumped the bags and cracked open the windows to that briny breeze, already plotting our walks. Day one was a belter: blue skies, not a cloud in sight. We headed straight for the South Cliff area, a gentle stroll along the promenade towards the Italian Gardens – those flowerbeds tumbling down to the sea are pure magic. From there, we pushed on to the cliff top path, with Olivers Mount looming friendly-like in the distance. The views over the bay had us grinning like idiots; seals barking on the rocks below, gulls wheeling overhead. I even managed a daft skip, feeling ten years younger. Lunch was fish and chips from a beachside hut – greasy, glorious, and washed down with a flask of builder’s tea.

But oh, the British weather – it’s got a wicked sense of humour, doesn’t it? Next morning, we woke to horizontal rain lashing the windows. Our grand plan for the Cleveland Way up to Cornelian Bay was scuppered. Instead, we layered up and braved a shorter loop around the Holbeck area, dodging puddles the size of small lakes. The paths turned into muddy slip ’n’ slides, and I ended up on my bum once, caked in Yorkshire clay. Laughed it off with the kids, though – turned it into a game of who could splash the highest. By afternoon, the clouds parted just enough for a sneaky sunset hike along the North Bay edge, past the cape where the waves crashed dramatic. Slippery underfoot, but exhilarating.

A couple of days in, sat by the window with a cuppa, watching the weather flip from drizzle to dazzle, I had one of those quiet moments. Holidays like this make you realise how daft it is to battle the elements when they’re half the fun. You adapt, you chuckle at the chaos, and suddenly you’re present – no phones, just the rhythm of your boots on the path. We squeezed in one more cracker: a windy wander to Weaponness Park, clifftops alive with rabbits and that endless sea vista. Scarby’s walks are brilliant like that – forgiving on sunny days, character-building when it’s grim. Left us knackered, happy, and already plotting a return. If you’re after proper North Yorkshire adventures on foot, this spot’s a gem.