A walk to Filey Brigg

Me and Ian cracked out the walking book again, and decided on route 1. Filey Brigg.

I’ve not spent all that much time in Filey since I was in School 12 years ago, aside from a handful of gatherings/house parties and my stint at shooting porn a few years ago (no, I never ‘performed’).

It’s a strange place, Filey. I’ve got a lot of weird memories from there, and some of them probably seem unlikely for such a quiet seaside town.

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It was pretty windy up on the tops, but that didn’t stop us going out to have a nosey. This was steeper than it looks.

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… and this was higher than it looks. Peering over the edge was a strange feeling.

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Just a bit further along, there was a fisherman on his own. Look closely and you’ll see him.

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If you look online about it, there’s a couple of supposed legends about the formation of the Brigg.

One being that it was built by a Devil, that lost his hammer at sea. He went to get his hammer back from the sea and caught a fish instead. “Ah! Dick!”, which accounts for the naming of the haddock, apparently. Mad.

I wonder if that’s what this guy was looking for?

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I’ll get to the other legend later.

We continued with our walk to the Brigg.

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It wasn’t long before we were warned from continuing by this offensively large sign.

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But onwards we went. Not because we’re divs, but because, really, it’s not actually that dangerous if you’ve got even just the slightest amount of common sense.

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Back to the second legend, and it get’s stranger.

The rocks are made from the bones of a dragon, that terrorised the town- of course – but was defeated by the people who drowned it when it dived into the sea to wash parkin from it’s teeth.

Yeah, parkin.

Yeah, the cake.

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What’s to fear about a cake eating dragon?!

Whoever thought these up must ‘av been off their tits.

The Brigg was nice, and somehow pretty sheltered from the wind considering how it was blasting against us when we were climbing down.

I remember walking along here as a kid in School on an outing, and there was this massive dead seal that fucking stunk and was rotting and everyone lost their minds over it.

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The tide seemed like it had started making its way out.

We decided to see if we could make it back round to the town by walking along the coast line. We were occasionally splashed by the odd wave, but it was nothing mental.

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As we progressed, we realised there’d be little chance of us making it all the way, as we ended up climbing across a few bits – Maybe if it wasn’t as wet and slippery we’d have had more of a chance…

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There was an abandoned path just a few meters back that we ended up using to cut up the hill – again, despite warnings not to use it, there’s nothing wrong with this path – and it took us in the right direction of the car park.

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and Fish n’ Chips.

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