THE light at Runswick Bay is extraordinary; no wonder it has long been a favourite with artists. And there’s plenty here to paint, from the spectacular views across red pantiled roofs to the sweeping, sandy beach, both of which have adorned plenty of postcards.

Then there are the rugged cliffs of Lingrow Knowle, dotted with caves and where the hobgoblins once lived, including one who was supposed to cure whooping cough, so mothers took their sick children to see him. And nestling on the slopes behind the bay are simple green huts, which in the 1920s were second homes for families who came here for their summer holidays.

These days people stay in former fisherman’s cottages, and with the summer hordes back at school, Runswick Bay is back to its serene best. When fishing died out, the villagers moved away and now there are only a handful of permanent residents.

As many of the cottages are only used by their owners during the season, Runswick Bay is quieter than most places at this time of the year, and that makes for a wonderfully tranquil weekend.

This is one of the finest bays in the north of England, which for more than 600 years gave a safe anchorage for the village fishing fleet. In the 19th century, 20 cobles sailed from this tiny village and fishing was a family concern. But as well as providing a livelihood, the sea was also a constant threat, in particular around Kettleness Point on the far side of the bay, the scene of many shipwrecks.

Smuggling was another money-spinner and Runswick’s isolated position made it easy for crews to unload contraband without being disturbed by customs men. The illicit cargo was hidden in caves and woods and, according to legend, the smugglers were warned of impending danger by an owl which hooted until the threat had passed.

Now the only boating activities are perfectly above board at the sailing club.

Runswick Bay’s most photographed house is probably Thatched Cottage, which has an unrivalled view of the bay, so it comes as no surprise to learn that it was once the coastguard’s home.

This is where James Herriot holidayed, but it’s now a grace-and-favour residence of the Marquees of Normanby, so you won’t be able to follow in his footsteps.

The original village was the other side of Lingrow Beck, but one night in 1664 the whole place slid into the sea. They made a fine job of rebuilding, and wandering along the barely altered passages, you half expect to see smugglers being chased by revenue officers or fishermen being grabbed for a rather different career at sea by press gangs.

Runswick Bay is somewhere to blow away the cobwebs by walking along the beach, but take time for even more breathtaking views on the cliff path to Staithes, which on a fine day is awe-inspiring.

Halfway along you will stumble across the lost harbour of Port Mulgrave, and it’s worth taking the steep winding path down to this remarkable shanty town of rusting tin sheds, lobster pots; ropes and fishing nets. On a rainy day the ghosts come out in this silent atmospheric place that feels as though it should be in Newfoundland.

The summer holidays may be behind us but to fully appreciate this part of the coast, maybe that’s no bad thing.