Here's a proper, old-skool seaside resort with parking available next to some proper, old-skool seafront lavs laid on for your, and all of East Yorkshire's Hairy Bikers', convenience.
Relative strangers to these parts, here's a chance to see what's on offer to those who can't be bothered with Bridlington.
Fish, chips and 'musements, indeed, but also a walk that will take way more than an afternoon, definitely.
Only a handful are brave enough for it today but there's a more than serviceable beach and all of your favourite, familiar-looking, fun-for-all-of-the-family facilities, not shown.
The rocks and the concrete promenade are necessary since this is the same system of sea that one day will see to Suffolk. Coastal erosion had seen to Hornsea's importance as a port by the 16th century, you see, and they then had to wait 500 years for the railway.
Just behind is a memorial to a division of the Free French Army who found themselves lodging here during World War II.
Some were from the La Grande-Motte in Southern France and the towns have since found themselves twinned. There's a little bit of neglect, which can only be expected to get worse from the 1st February 2020, right kids?
Phew! That was quite a walk, wasn't it? 215 miles across Northern England to finish up here in Hornsea but what's that you're screaming?...
'I THINK YOU'LL FIND ALFRED WAINWRIGHT'S COAST TO COAST WALK IS ONLY 192 MILES AND ENDS IN ROBIN HOOD'S BAY, ACTUALLY!'
No, not that one, silly, this is the Trans Pennine Trail, which runs further south, and no, never heard of it, neither.
While Wainwright was a fan of the windswept fell, this one's nearly all on Tarmac™ with nothing too strenuous up-and-down-wise.
It starts in Southport taking in Liverpool, Manchester, Doncaster and Hull before you finish here at the old railway station.
A marvellous marker has since been added on the seafront for the true trail end and with diversions along the way to Leeds, Sheffield and York, it all just sounds like a gigantic pub crawl, really.
 Or start, depending on your direction.
A memorial garden leads temptingly towards town and was once a private square for those in the luxurious-looking lodgings.
It's all part of a larger conservation area and after the no-frills feel to the seafront, it gives no real hint of the seaside.
This is Hornsea's prime piece of public greenery and wasn't laid out until post-World War I so not to lure in the Victorian visitors. Not that SlyBob are qualified to comment so what's left of a 14th-century moat, reportedly, was inexplicably overlooked.
Nor does the town itself, neither, and they've been trading around the marketplace since medieval times. It's still fairly old, some of it 17th-century old when some original and influential Quakers played a part in the town's transformation.
There's charitable evidence by way of the almshouses, there for those without much in the way of life savings, although these wouldn't appear until after the railway came.
It looks like the sort of place you might expect to find further inland, a place with a Corn Exchange that's now a Wetherspoon™s, for example.
Not that there is and not that the Quakers would have approved that application, even though the temperance dial has been turned right down these days.
When the Old Hall was built in 1687, the sea would have been at least two more miles away, they say, but nowhere near the 10 that one anonymous scribe claimed.
Hornsea steeple, when I built thee, Thou was 10 miles off Burlington, 10 miles off Beverley, and 10 miles off sea.
That just looks to be a classic bit of diacope there, which while very clever, literally, is actually quite inaccurate, geographically.
It might not look much from the front but there's a full day out hidden behind, when in season. They'll no doubt expand on all of the above and fans of the porcelain can peruse 2,000 pieces of the famous Hornsea Pottery.
Hornsea Mere is Yorkshire's largest freshwater lake, no less, although there's only a small sense of its scale from the bottom of this housing estate.
The water is the last of Hornsea's main attractions after the promenade, the memorial garden and the unmistakeable Gothic Revival spire of the United Reformed Church, obviously. Oh! That's forgetting Bettison's Folly and SlyBob aren't the only ones, apparently.
It's known locally as the 'Forgotten Folly' because nobody seems to know where it is and you can add two more to that list. It's an indulgent, 50-foot tower built with local bricks by a brewer who may have been taking his work home with him in the mid-1800s, hic!
Anything with the only fully working, retractable flagpole in the country is surely worth a look but there's no sight of it anywhere. It's now known to be in what was once his back garden and is now a different area of housing with no obvious signs of access.
In the time it takes to pointlessly pound the pavements of Westgate, Southgate and Newbegin looking for it, you could have trailed halfway to Southport.
At least it's known where that is!