Despite getting about, Matt and Cat can still find new places to visit - and eat - on the Isle of Wight. On an unexpectedly rain-free day in winter they decided to don their wellies and check out the coast at Whitecliff Bay.

With its superb sandy beach, sheltered by the brooding north face of Culver Down, it's an excellent place to gawp slack-jawed at some conspicuous geology. Lines of rocks and clay run in parallel from the crumbling cliff face directly into the sea. Staring along the regular grooves, it's a great place to muse over the insignificance of man and to consider the brain-poppingly intense timescales during which this tectonic wonder was created.

It was mid-afternoon when Matt and Cat made their way hesitantly down the path from Whitecliff Bay holiday camp - the beach can only be accessed on foot - and the place was deserted apart from a lone geologist tapping at the rocks with a tiny hammer. Oh, plus an incredibly disruptive trio of trial-bike riders whose machines screamed up and down the internationally and nationally-protected beach. It seemed that M and C had stumbled across a film shoot which involved a girl on a pink Lambretta being circled by her mates on the aforementioned two-strokes. The stench and row was unwelcome and the sound of Matt huffing and moaning almost drowned out the noise of the bikes' engines. However, walking to the most easterly end of the Island, they were soon out of eye (if not ear)shot of the bikes and were able to enjoy this spectacular landscape in relative peace.

Review continues:

Standing at the foot of the massive chalk cliff was wonderful and, turning the corner, the lumpy white landscape was suddenly illuminated by the sun; it was like the moon but with limpets. Looking back towards the beach, Matt and Cat could see the Wonky Café. A bit chilled from their windswept adventure, they decided that the café looked the perfect place to mull over the meaning of life whilst being warmed by a cuppa - and maybe a spot of very late lunch.

The incoming tide drove the duo back inland and they arrived at the café five minutes before it was due to close. The proprietor could not have been more accommodating though, assuring her tardy clients that she would stay open and cook something up if they wanted it. Matt ordered burger and chips and Cat opted for Brie and bacon panini. Whilst settling in a window seat with a panoramic view of the bay, Matt and Cat noticed that the buzzing had stopped. The motorcyclists had cleared off and the beach was peaceful again. Ruminating with their cups of tea as planned, M and C watched the daylight fading to the gentle sound of meat sizzling.

Pushing the complimentary papers aside, Matt and Cat made room for their lunches. Having been served their tea in china mugs with a little pot of packet sugars and caramelised Fairtrade biscuits they were slightly taken aback by the disposable plates. Perhaps this was to save on the day's final bit of washing up, or maybe the food is always served this way. M and C could not help comparing their visit to Whitecliff Bay to the Island's other geological wonder - and, of course, its most westerly point - The Needles. Both have vividly-coloured striations in the rock pushed up against a hefty lump of chalk, and pedestrian-only access to the beach (if you ignore the motorbikes). And yet the places couldn't be further apart - in style and literally!

Unlike the generic pantry in the Needles Pleasure Park, The Wonky Café is a charming, beach-shack setup full of character, as indeed one might expect from the name. It has a very homely feel, and provides a welcome shelter on a winter afternoon, as well as plenty of outside terrace seating for holidaymakers in the summer. However, do not venture down here unless you are sure-footed: the access is steep at best, and extremely rough going in places. Whitecliff Bay is one of the east Wight's few beaches that are still fairly undeveloped, so if you're up for a clamber and don't mind fairly basic facilities (no, there really, truly, are no toilets, not even a staff toilet, as a prominent notice in the Wonky Café asserts) you will find Whitecliff Bay worth a visit.

So, the food? Well, yes, eventually it got eaten; you can't stare at a view all day. The food at the Wonky Café was good but unsophisticated, in a beach café style. The burger and chips were basic; likewise the Brie and bacon panini. The menu didn't offer anything much more adventurous, but few would go away hungry. It also seems that in the summer the menu might be a bit wider - and at this point it's worth commending the Wonky Café for the fact that it stays open at all in the winter. The excellent website says, encouragingly: "We open on Winter weekends and will open especially on Winter weekdays if you let us know you need us." So many cafés raise the shutters in October when the proprietors retreat to Spain to return only at Easter. Not so here although it must be one of the most isolated cafés on the Island.

So, don't come to the Wonky for gourmet delicacies. Come instead to enjoy some basic, well-cooked fare, friendly service - above and beyond the call of duty during Matt and Cat's visit - and a truly remarkable landscape.

Update 2010: M & C revisited one summer afternoon to enjoy a spot of rockpooling, and a Wonky lunch. Bacon and brie panini again, this time for Matt, whilst Cat thought she'd just have something small, like pancakes and maple syrup. WRONG!! These pancakes were thicker than your hand, came in a plate of three piping hot specimens, with butter and syrup a-plenty. North Americans might have wondered what the fuss was about, but for delicate English rose Cat, this was quite a surprise. Luckily Matt was on hand to assist, and so when she'd nibbled her way through about half on one of her delicious, steaming cakes, he manfully volunteered to finish the rest, although even he was defeated by the third pancake. Top marks to the Wonky for a generous and tasty lunch - oh, and they did come on proper ceramic plates! (pictures updated)