In the pre-dawn darkness I was driving north to Staithes, a perfect little fishing village perched on the coastline that curves around the headland and along the banks of the Roxby Beck, which sounds like a groovy swinger from the 70’s, but is in fact a stream that runs through the village and out to sea. I drove past the turn to the village and carried on a few hundred yards up the road, taking the little lane to Cowbar, a tiny village that sits high above Staithes and the river below.
