As the sun rises over the North York Moors, Whitby awakens from its slumber, ready to welcome visitors with its unique blend of historic charm and modern attractions. This article takes a closer look at this seaside town, examining its efforts to regenerate and whether it's still worth visiting.
Upon arriving in Whitby, you might initially wonder where the beach is. Follow the west side of the river (the harbour faces due north) down the slope and turn left, and there it is: three glorious miles of beach stretching all the way to Sandsend (tides permitting). Whitby is a compact town, so seaside-y things like promenades, benches, and beaches are located outside the center.
Despite being late to the seaside game compared to Scarborough 20 miles south, Whitby has made a name for itself through its fishing, whaling, ship-building, and lucrative jet-mining industry (the gemstone is found in the local cliffs). By the late 19th century, property developers were building grand terraces of hotels on the west cliff, capitalizing on the views across the River Esk to Whitby Abbey on the east cliff headland.
Today, Whitby offers a mix of historic charm and modern amusements. Alongside its historic abbey and cobbled streets, there are harbourside arcades and food shacks. The town has worked its assets to appeal to a broader crowd while not losing its nostalgic appeal. For example, Saltmoore, just outside town, opened last November as a "wellness sanctuary" to shake up the seaside hotel scene. A distillery behind the abbey is also due to open next year.
But it's probably Bram Stoker's legacy that kick-started new life in the town with the twice-yearly Goth Weekend. This has led to a stream of festivals and "weekenders" from Fish and Ships to Northern Soul. The newest festival, Whitby Lit Fest, debuted this November.
What's it really like? Ridiculously appealing. Houses tumble down to the harbour; a skeleton of a medieval abbey rears up on one headland; handsome Victorian terraces on the other; boats putter in and out; narrow lanes bulge with shops offering jewelry, fudge, soaps, and catch-your-eye knick-knacks. Despite the relentless need to climb up or down steps and steep lanes, the town pulls you in.
True, alongside the historic charm, there's a gaudy harbourside drag of amusement arcades, tacky shops, and food shacks. But it's light-hearted. In Pleasureland, a mum and her goth daughter are feeding two-pence pieces into a machine. "We always come and get £5 in change," explains the mum. "If we win something, fine, and if we don't – it's just a bit of fun."
The Captain Cook Museum, in the wharfside house where the apprentice Cook lodged, has absorbing displays including a mind-boggling world map plotting the circuitous routes of his three voyages, lists of ships' stores (19,337 lbs of pickled cabbage, 397 gallons of spirit on 'Resolution'), and the ship's surgeon's instruments – including a carving knife for amputations.
As you work your way up Church Street towards
