Across England on the Coast to Coast walk-visiting Whitby

Our walk across England from the Irish Sea to the North Sea may be over but we’re not in a hurry to leave North Yorkshire.

So we stay an extra day and take the local bus up to Whitby.  I’d visited the town in 2000 with our oldest daughter and wanted to show it off to John.

What I found was a town that had been discovered by the masses.  In 2000 there were tourists, sure, but it certainly couldn’t have been described as congested. Nowadays I’d say the locals would have a real love-hate relationship with the hordes that descend.

For those of you who don’t know, Whitby is a seaside town in North Yorkshire on the mouth of the River Esk.

The day we visited the sun was warm and the sky a bright blue with no clouds. It was gorgeous and we ambled around taking in the sights, enjoying just being able to stroll and not be anywhere in particular.

One of the features of Whitby is the Abbey.  In 2000 I was able to ramble through the ruins but today it’s walled off and you have to pay to get in.

Whitby 10Back in 2000 my daughter and I overnighted in the YHA converted stables alongside the Abbey.  We were the only occupants for the night.  They’re now being converted into five star accommodation.

Whitby 6

One of my intentions while in Whitby was to buy something made of Whitby Jet as a momento of our walk.  While exploring the laneways we chanced across W Hamond, Jet Merchants, whose claim to fame is that the jet they use is actually Whitby jet.  Shock horror that not every store in Whitby sells the genuine article!

I bought a lovely sterling silver and jet bangle, but I’m not going to post a photo of it because it was stolen about three weeks later and I still get angry thinking about it. But here I am inside while buying it, and then outside, clutching the bag with a very pleased grin.

After that we mooched riverside for a while people watching and contemplating, but deciding against, the Captain Cook Experience on the Bark Endeavour.

It’s a lovely spot, as is North Yorkshire generally.  If you’re in the area take the time to visit.  You’ll be pleased you did.  There’s much more to do than we did as we had only three hours.  Next visit we’ll factor in the time to at least have a day out on the North Yorkshire Moors Railway.

The next day we boarded the train for home and enjoyed first class travel and benefits all the way to London!

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Across England on the Coast to Coast walk, part 6

Over the last few weeks I’ve been recreating a walk my husband John and I did in July 2013. We hiked for 18 days across England, following the famous Coast to Coast walk from St Bees on the Irish Coast to Robin Hood’s Bay on the North Sea coast.

In the last post we had made it to the halfway point having traversed Cumbria and the Lake District to enter the Yorkshire Moors.

In this post I’ll take you from our last overnight stay in Keld, deep in the Pennines, to Richmond on their eastern side.

Once again I’ve loaded the post with photos. I hope you enjoy them.

From Keld to Reeth we had a choice of two routes: one high, one low. The guidebook suggests the high route for anyone interested in seeing the scars and ruins left from lead mining days. We opted for the more scenic Swaledale Valley route which takes in several little villages, one being Muker, where we took time out for a pot of tea in the local teashop.

A tiny, lovely, place with a claim to fame of being one of James Herriot’s favourite places. It’s just off the C2C path and involves walking through meadows of incredibly fragrant pasture land. Signs at the entrances ask you to stick to the paths and not trample the plants.

2--Walking through pasture

Walking through pastureland

3--A close-up of the pasture plants--they smelled wonderful

Pasture plants. The aroma is wonderful.

Once back on the road we noticed the trend towards increasingly hard to get through stiles and the ever-present abandoned stone buildings. Any takers for this duplex doer-upper?!

Our next stop, Reeth, is a quintessential Yorkshire village that featured frequently in the 1980s TV show All creatures great and small. It’s old enough to have got a mention in the Domesday book and has long been prosperous because of past lead mining and its role as the main market town for Swaledale.

Our B&B had the very grand name of Springfield House—before seeing it we thought we were in for something grand! Turned out to be a small private residence. Very nice though, with hosts who couldn’t do enough for us.

Next morning it’s on with the boots and once more on the road to head off to Richmond, a busy market town that’s the largest on the walk.

One of the things we never quite became used to was that the path often took us through farms, to the point where we’d be walking past the house and among the buildings. Always close the gates, is the motto.

8--On our way to Richmond. The path leads through yet another farm

Always close the gates behind you!

The walk is an easy one with a bit of a climb to Marrick, passing along the way the ruins of Marrick Priory, which have been absorbed into an Outdoor Education Centre.

We didn’t stop, content to take a photo from the path before continuing on and up through the woodland on what is known as the Nuns’ Steps. So-called because nuns are said to have laid the 375 steps as a walkway to the abbey.

The trail then becomes a long walk through farmland, heading towards Marske, half a mile out of which the guidebook told us to start looking for a white-painted cairn towards the top of Applegarth Scar.  Blowed if we could spot it!  After a minute of squinting I spied what I thought might be it only to find, through binoculars, that it was a reclining cow.

We ended up taking a punt, headed for the nearest hill and got lucky; it was the right hill!

Fortunately the rest of the walk into Richmond was straightforward, along paths alternately giving views of farms, the River Swale and woodland.

Until, at last, we spy Richmond from our lofty position above the town.
13--Our first view of Richmond

We have two nights booked at a B&B in the heart of the town. 17th century oak-beamed Willance House is just off the main square and it takes us only as long as a shower and change of clothes takes before we’re off and out exploring.

The town boasts the ruins of an 11th century castle built by Alan the Red. Not much remains as the stones were scavenged over the years by locals to build houses.

We could easily have stayed another day but our accommodation is pre-booked so we must be on our way.   We therefore bid farewell to Richmond.

17--Leaving Richmond

 

 

Across England on the Coast to Coast walk, part 4

Are you still with us? Dogging our footsteps across England along the famous Coast to Coast trail?

You’ll be relieved to learn that by this tales’ end we will have left the Lakes District and be on flatter ground.

But only after a harrowing 16 mile slog from Patterdale to Shap.

But that’s getting ahead of ourselves.

First there’s the short 7½ mile leg from Wordsworth’s home of Grasmere. As ever there’s scenery to die for.

Heading out of Grasmere

Heading out of Grasmere

It’s one hell of a climb out of Grasmere up to the mountain lake named Grisedale Tarn where the path diverges into several routes, two of which involve even more climbing.

This time, instead of feeling honour-bound to take the higher harder route on from the tarn, we cheerfully decide on the relatively gentle and downward slope into Patterdale, a walk of around two hours. Once there we head straight for the pub. Me for a pot of tea and John for a pint of the local beer.

Cup of tea at Patterdale hotel

Patterdale sits in a valley. A valley that RAF jets streak along practicing low level flying. We know because as we sat there contemplating the view and quiet two of them startled the bejesus out of us as they flashed past. After that bit of excitement we found our B&B for the night, an old school house decorated in the Balinese style. Have a look at our bed!

I seem to remember saying in my first post that we had two shattering days during the walk. Well, it’s a good thing we had a good night’s rest because the first is coming up! The Lakes definitely don’t want you to easily forget them!

After a lovely breakfast during which we were waited on by our hosts we were again on our way. Up and over yet another mountain, Kidsty Pike, one of the highest points on the walk. In the next photo I’m pointing in its general direction.

We know today is going to be hard because the guide book says so. It also says there are no villages, pubs, tea houses or toilets between us and Shap, our next stop 16 miles away. So, it says, be prepared for a slog of a day.

Kidsty Pike is the only mountain we have to climb and the guide book diagram shows the rest of the way is relatively level. I say relatively, because all of those little bumps in the drawing mean you’re going either up or down the entire way.

Kidsty Pike, the highest point in the original C2C walk

Kidsty Pike behind me

By the time you’ve scrambled, slipped and slithered your way down the shingly descent from Kidsty Pike to Haweswater Reservoir—which serves Manchester—you’re ready for a bit of easy travelling.

Forget that!

Haweswater Reservoir

Haweswater Reservoir

I couldn’t describe the next several hours better than the guide book so it’s over to its authors who say this is no …

… amble while spinning your dainty parasol … Soon you’re panting like a hippo on a treadmill high above the shore.

All while gritting your teeth because your toes are screaming from the downhill descent.

It’s at the further end of the reservoir we say goodbye to the Lakes District and start seeing the occasional C2C signpost. There follows several miles of fording streams, crossing stiles and negotiating bogs in lush lowlands before reaching the next landmark, the ruins of Shap Abbey.

Shap Abbey

Here you think, WooHoo, nearly there! You’re not. There’s still an hour or so to go. We recklessly eschewed the offer of a lift into town from some passing locals. No, we said, thanking them, but we feel that would be cheating. We must walk. Good grief, we thought afterwards, will we never learn!!

By the time we reached Shap, a long narrow village that pretty well lines the road, we were knackered and in need of a lie down.

Does it look like the sign is holding me up?

Does it look like the sign is holding me up? Believe me, it is!

As ever on this walk our accommodation had been pre-booked so it was just a matter of finding it. Which we did at the end of the village.

New Ing Lodge has a variety of room types as well as camping out the back. We were lucky enough to score the only room with an ensuite. At this stage of the game, lining up to use the shower and toilet would have been more than we could handle.

Next time we make it to the Pennines.

Across England on the Coast to Coast walk, part 3

We continue into the Lakes District with sometimes gritted teeth

It takes us five days to navigate our way across the Lakes District.

The weather’s at its worst for this part of our walk. There’s sunshine, sure—after all, it is summer—but the rain! There’s plenty of that too.

Rocky paths

Take, for example, our second day which took us from Ennerdale to Rosthwaite where, thank goodness, there was a lovely little hotel with a very comfortable room and good grub waiting. But first we had to cross a mountain. First we had to climb Loft Beck. I composed this about our experience scrambling up:

The second day in and the weather is foul,
we’re scaling Loft Beck and the wind it does howl,
what I would give
to be sure I will live,
is everything I’m carrying to survive.

The rain stings with little bullets of ice
that hit my exposed bits like pellets of rice,
it cascades down the rocks
soaking my socks,
I have doubts I will ever revive.

The wind roars and blows,
I can’t stem the flow from my nose,
snot flies to every point in the land
because I daren’t spare a hand.
All I want is to safely arrive.

Loft Beck

Grim, I was, determined not to be the one who slipped and needed a helicopter rescue. No, that was ‘fortunately’ someone else later that day. We heard about it at our hotel that night. The poor woman was pretty banged up having fallen quite a way.

Before beginning this walk we’d determined that if there was a choice between the low road and the high (mountain tracks) we were going to take the high. We reasoned we may never be this way again and we wanted to see as much of the scenery as we could.

Fine in theory. But when the mist hangs low and the rain is sleeting the guide book tells you to not be stupid. Besides, what are you going to see in zero visibility? Believe it or not we put in a couple of minutes debating, and felt that somehow we were wimps for not choosing the mountain.

Thank goodness for the several YHA huts along the way. Lunchtime saw us at Black Sail where we could sit in the dry for half an hour and buy a hot tea, coffee or chocolate. A big mug of chocolate got me! The little speck that looks like a tree to the right of John’s head is the hut. And the mountains we have yet to cross are behind.

Black Sail YHA

Once over and down the other side, which was nearly as hair-raising because of loose rubble, is an old slate mine that’s still in low-key operation.

Slate mine

Honester slate mine

The paths aren’t easy underfoot. We met people wearing footwear totally inappropriate for the terrain. Thank God, we muttered more than a few times, for good walking boots. I’d invested in a pair of Berghaus—the best, my UK son-in-law informed me with an impressed nod—and they were proving to be brilliant.

Paths that are streams

Here the path, awash with rain, intersects a dry stone wall and stile

It’s easy to get lost in the Lakes. There’s often no hint of a track and because it’s national park no signposting is allowed. To overcome this, walkers over successive years have built stone cairns to mark the way. Even so we wandered off course several times. Not too far, but enough to have us standing and scratching our heads while scanning the terrain for other walkers, which would show the way we should be heading.

And believe it or not, on those high peaks, in the middle of summer, you can get bogged.

Boggy ground

John went in ankle deep at this point. Unsympathetic me laughed and hopped across really quickly and only got muddy soles. The bogs aren’t always apparent and they’re everywhere. You can find yourself sinking on what looks like a firm grassy tuft.

Experienced walkers told us we were lucky. Most years the bogs are much worse and much more widespread. but early good weather had dried out a lot.

That day was a 16½ mile slog. But don’t get me wrong. We were glad to be there and the overnight stay in the Scafell Hotel at Rosthwaite revived us.

Scafell Hotel at :Rosthwaite

The next day was an easy 8½ miles to Grasmere, Wordsworth’s home for nine years and where he’s buried.

And it doesn’t get any lovelier than this!

The day was gorgeous so we took the high level route to Helm Crag which is the last peak before Grasmere and overlooks it.

The ridge walk via Helm Crag

It’s a relief to reach the bottom as it’s not an easy descent—were any of them!—and find yourself in Lancrigg Woods taking the Poet’s Walk into the village. The guidebook describes how:

Wordsworth’s sister Dorothy would sit at this spot while her brother walked up and down composing verses.

We could see why. It’s beautiful.

Next time: We say goodbye to the Lakes District.

Across England on the Coast to Coast walk, part 2

Across England on the Coast to Coast walk part 2

Well … today’s the day.

The first of 18 that see us walking from the west coast of the UK to the east coast. Through Cumbria and Yorkshire. Following Alfred Wainwright’s famous Coast to Coast walk.

The start

It’s been organised for us, so all we have to carry are our backpacks. Luggage will be transported between our nightly accommodation.

We’ve got B&Bs, hotels and farm stays lined up, some in the middle of towns, some in the middle of nowhere, and we’re looking forward to them all.

Recommended backpack inclusions are emergency medical supplies, water, lunch, snacks, raincoat, and little shovel/wipes/plastic bags for if you’re caught short.

It doesn’t take long—an hour or two on the road—to realise that’s WAY too much. In subsequent days we reduce it to band-aids, water and the minimum amount of food we think we’ll need.

As for being caught short—just make sure you do your ablutions before you head off in the morning and you can ditch the shovel etc as well.

Oh, and make sure your backpack is lightweight and waterproof—because if rain doesn’t soak it your sweat will.

But all that knowledge is in the future. Today we fortify ourselves with a full English breakfast (part of the package) and sandwiches packed by the B&B host.

Then it’s off and into the great outdoors, heading for the Lakes District. That’s those mountains in the distance.

On to Dent Hill

The first day covers 14½ miles. Mid-morning sees us puffing and doggedly panting up our first slope, Dent Hill.

Nearly killed John who began to feel very poorly early and didn’t improve for hours. At one point as we were slogging it to the top I had visions of calling in Air Rescue! But being a man he said he’d manage, and he did.

That smile on my face, you may notice, is definitely forced. In fact, our kids commented on our smiles after a few days of receiving photos, asking:

‘Are you having fun yet!’

Top of Dent Hill

The Lakes District is a hike of five days through the toughest countryside on the 4 out of 5 difficulty-rated walk, so we know we’re not in for an easy time.

Dent Hill turns out to be the worst we encounter that day; the rest is along tracks and over fences, this one deer-proof.

The sheepUp and over a deer-proof fence

We make it to Ennerdale and our overnight accommodation mid-afternoon, but as our hosts aren’t home we find the nearest pub and have a beer. Boy! Does it ever taste good—though as you can see, those smiles haven’t re-surfaced yet.

Ennerdale B&BBoy, that beer tastes good!

This becomes the pattern for the next 17 days. Hitting the road early so we arrive at our next destination at a reasonable hour.

Next week: Through the Lakes District with gritted teeth.