Glaisdale to Robin Hoods Bay, 22 miles.
The final day seemed something of an anticlimax. The route and scenery didn't match the grandeur of previous days, perhaps I was missing home. Jane had been good enough to let me run off for 2 weeks, leaving her with a young daughter. I sent Beth a postcard every day and she'd been charting our route.
There was some more rain at times but after what seemed like a bit of a trudge, we dropped down through the caravan site (where it seemed embarrassingly easy to get lost) and saw the sea.
Robin Hoods Bay, quaint and gently peeling soon beckoned and Andy caught us up as we reached the end. I should think there's hardly a day in the year now when a C2C walker doesn't descend down through the town to the sea.
A swift pint outside the Famous Bay Hotel at the end and a good sit down to soak up the satisfaction of completing the trail. Some day-trippers began questioning us on where we'd come from and I found myself feeling smug seeing their admiration at what we'd achieved.
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