FEW tragedies in recent times in our corner of the country have touched people more than the death of nine-year-old Harriet Forster, struck by rock falling from the cliffs at Staithes, where she was on holiday. The £5,000 raised so far in her memory for the rescue services mirrors the depth of public feeling.

The tragedy drew widespread publicity. Just nine days later my wife and I visited Staithes with one of our daughters and her young-teenage son. On the beach, our daughter, a professional photographer, snapped a scene showing a couple, a man and a woman, sitting directly at the foot of the cliff, within yards of a sign warning of their danger.

Close by, in the care of a man, a girl younger than Harriet dug in the sands.

My daughter intended to submit her picture for publication, but, out of consideration for those shown, who would recognise themselves, and any possible distress to Harriet’s family, she declined. Was she right?

Anyone visiting Staithes soon after seeing the picture would have had extra reason for caution.

It’s worth adding that the notice warning of the cliff danger is too small and poorly sited – at the foot of the cliff. It needs to be half as big again and more visible – higher on the cliff, by the slipway.

The present sign could be retained and/or positioned a little farther along, to reinforce the warning.

The aim of our visit to Staithes was to walk round the village’s southern headland which, until a year or so ago, had been out of bounds for decades. Providing a wonderful bird’s eye view of the harbour, this was the route I took with my parents when we had holidays in Staithes in the late 1940s. Somehow or other it lapsed, with even the Cleveland Way bypassing it in favour of a nondescript direct path well away from the cliff. Now reopened, its modest length, barely half a mile, forms a splendid addition to Yorkshire’s walkable coast.

Besides its harbour view the path embraces the Old Nab, a promontory crowned by a stout rock turret, resembling a castle. With care this can be visited, which made it a good objective for our grandson. The direct path can be used to complete a round walk, though it is far better to return the same way and reprise that glorious aerial view

But Staithes today is vastly different from when I first knew it. No daily fish sale on the quay. The cobles and Staithes bonnets both vanished. Rock armour buttressing the piers has done nothing aesthetically for the village.

But the pastel paint on most cottages has dispelled the former uniform greyness. ‘Dour’ no longer describes Staithes. But nor does ‘rugged’: is that also a gain?

To leave the village we avoided the steep road by taking the easier, largely stepped, pathway among the cottages. This starts at the squeeze-through gap of Dog Loup, great fun for kids (and a nostalgic thrill for me). But at the top, what a let down.

For a formerly magnificent harbour panorama is completely ruined by a telegraph pole, with thick wires strung in all directions. Priority should be given to restoring this view, the perfect farewell to the village, if you go that way.