A word from the editor: I’m crazy for the seaside. . .

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There really is nothing to beat the English seaside and in Yorkshire we are blessed with a fantastic coastline.

As a child growing up in West Yorkshire my friends were split into two groups - East Coasters or West Coasters.

My family were firm East-coasters and I was almost grown up before I saw Blackpool. Wakes fortnight was always spent in Whitby with my sisters and parents, and grandparents.

We usually rented a house - there was only one ill-fated departure from this routine, and that was a static caravan in Filey. It rained, my dad decided he’d be better off at home doing the DIY so left us to it, and my sister broke her finger falling off the top bunk. We didn’t try that again.

Something pulls me back to Whitby every year and last week I had the chance to go with a childhood friend and our respective grown-up daughters.

A bit of sea air to blow away the cobwebs will do us all good, I thought, little knowing we’d be basking in Mediterranean temperatures.

We did the full seaside thing - fish and chips, stroll on the prom, seafood from the stalls, photos by the whalebones and of course a round of crazy golf on the Arnold Palmer course on the tops.

Only once in my life have I ever rung the bell (for those not in the know, the final hole is a tricky uphill number, but if you manage to sink the ball in the top hole a bell rings and you get a card entitling you to a FREE game). For me it’s the equivalent of a Willy Wonka golden ticket.

I’ve only ever won one in my life - I treasured it safe in my purse until the day I left my kitchen door off the latch and a sneak thief stole my handbag. Now I’m proud to say I have a replacement! Both my friend and I rung the bell - and we can’t wait to return to redeem them!