The two streets of Coatham and Redcar are covered with mountains of drift sand, blown by the north west winds from the shore, which almost forbid the foot; no carriage above a wheelbarrow ought to venture. It is labour to walk. If a man wants a perspiring dose he may procure one by travelling through these two streets, and save his half crown from the doctor. He may sport white stockings every day in a year, for they are without dirt; nor will the pavement offend his corns. The sand beds are in some places as high as the eaves of the houses. Some of the inhabitants are obliged every morning to clear their doorway, which becomes a pit, unpleasant to the housekeeper, and dangerous to the traveller.
Trip to Coatham