Jayne Dowle: Why my family have cancelled our Cornwall summer holiday in favour of the Yorkshire coast

Over the years, I thought I had pretty much got the measure of it all. I’ve watched as Whitby has emerged from smoky fishing town into tourist hotspot; these days by the harbour, you’re more likely to bump into a well-heeled family from Harrogate sipping fancy coffee than an old fella sat mending his nets.

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I’ve explored the picturesque thoroughfares of Robin Hood’s Bay and Staithes and keep fond memories of the school camping trip we took to Runswick Bay and the bonfire we built on the beach one night. At 14, the salty tang in the air and the crackle of driftwood spelt freedom and adventure.

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I came across Ravenscar once and stood a while staring out to sea, pondering about the Victorian entrepreneur who thought he had found a gold mine, only to see his plans to create a resort to rival mighty Scarborough founder on the rocks below.

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I’ve spent many weekends in Filey with friends; especially poignant are the football tournaments when my son was younger, setting up a massive camp on the beach with our ‘football family’ for the day, passing down the traditions along with the sand-infested sandwiches.

However, as I discovered on our recent weekend away in Thornwick Bay, there is always something new under the sun to learn. Admittedly, the actual sun was glimpsed only briefly through the ghostly sea fret which rolled in over the cliffs at RSPB Bempton. As we watched the puffins and gannets cling so determinedly to their nests, tears sprang unexpectedly to our eyes with the natural beauty of it all.

And here’s what I learned. Despite the best efforts of the Discover Yorkshire Coast tourism campaign, the charms of the 45 miles of our constantly surprising coastline have been vastly under-rated.

I say this not just as a seaside devotee, but a keen student of place. What we have failed to do, and this may be because we’re a huge county with countless other attractions, is to capitalise on our natural asset in the same way as say, Cornwall, Devon or Dorset has.

With everything to play for now that Welcome to Yorkshire is reassigning its focus, I’d like to see proper effort put into branding the Yorkshire Coast so that it develops its own momentum.

For instance, I’d like Flamborough Head to be given its own prominence as the most-easterly point of the North of England. Why all the fuss about the White Cliffs of Dover, you might ask, when here is a boundary just as significant? And yes, Brexit and its potential repercussions, did come into this particular line of thought.

And it is clear that much more investment in certain areas is needed. You might be wondering why I didn’t mention Bridlington in my little trip down memory lane. I was saving it because I’m sad about what it has become.

The new leisure centre looks splendid, but behind its confident façade are far too many decrepit hotels and B&Bs, literally crumbling away. Even the seagulls seem defeated. As were we, on a Saturday teatime, in our hopes of finding a nice little café to sit in and enjoy some fish and chips. Everywhere decent-looking was either shuttered up or shut for good.

Sorry to be harsh, but here’s where my Yorkshire Coast uplift idea could really benefit half-forgotten resorts such as Bridlington. I see that there is a major regeneration scheme underway, with plans to give the seafront a £4m makeover, but this is not enough. It runs the risk of creating the ‘Blackpool effect’ – all front and not much done to tackle despair and dereliction beyond it.

Bridlington needs to be brought into the fold, along with Flamborough, Bempton, Skipsea, Withernsea and the rest of the coastline below Filey. As the puffins and gannets at Bempton know only too well, there is strength in numbers.

Let’s try a little exercise. If I asked you to summarise Cornwall, for instance, you might say ‘surfing and Cornish pasties’. What would you say about Yorkshire?

I’m not going to answer that for you, but I will ask you to consider this. On the way back from Thornwick Bay we came to a mutual family decision. What would be the point of driving eight hours to Cornwall (and back) as we had planned to do this summer when we could meander through the rolling Yorkshire Wolds from home in under two? Why bother tramping all that way to explore pretty villages, when we could pop to Staithes or Skipsea instead? And as for surfing – my daughter’s major concern – Cayton Bay would be just up the A165.

As soon as we got home, I cancelled our Cornwall booking, found another lovely caravan at Thornwick Bay, paid the deposit and breathed a huge sigh of relief. I guess you might call it swimming against the tide, but it feels right.