The hall itself, pale and orderly, began as a Georgian house built around 1714 by John Greame, later extended into a confident Regency mansion. Its symmetry and bow-fronted wings give it a polite, seaside composure that feels both formal and relaxed.

Inside, the rooms have been carefully restored to their early-20th-century appearance, when the house was home to the Lloyd Greame family. There’s the morning room with its pastel walls and delicate furniture, the dining room heavy with silver and dark wood, and the drawing room where you can almost hear the gramophone. A small museum occupies part of the house, with displays on local history and Amy Johnson—the Hull-born aviator whose story still stirs local pride.

The gardens are layered: walled plots with espaliered fruit trees, borders edged in brick, and lawns that sweep towards the cliffs. Beyond the flower beds lies a small zoo—unexpected, but somehow fitting for a public park that has evolved with the town. You hear children’s voices, wind in the trees, and the distant hiss of the sea.

Standing by the cliff-top path, the house seems to hover between land and water. Its pale walls catch the changing light, and from the terrace you can trace the curve of the coast north towards Flamborough Head, where the sky feels larger than it should.