Best foot forward

In all my chat about gratitude yesterday, I forgot to mention something incredibly exciting: i could see the sea!! After climbing Beacon Hill and popping out onto Scarth Wood Moor, there it was. Just beyond what Brian reliably informed me was Redcar. It may not quite be my destination (that’s further south and further away) but it still felt pretty momentous to catch a first glimpse of the other coast of the Coast to Coast! Day 14 provided ample opportunity to prepare for the final push into Robin Hood’s Bay.  Breakfast was the biggest bowl of porridge I have even seen. I had already eaten the biggest schnitzel I have ever seen the previous evening, so please don’t expect this 192 mile-walk to have left me sporting supermodel proportions. All this food was provided by Heidelberger Wolfgang, quite a character who also happens to own the biggest dogs (German Schnauzers) I have ever seen. After climbing back on to the Moors and reading a helpful sign about all the things ...

I fear that I am going to sound a little like a yoga teacher in this post but please bear with me. Normal service will be resumed tomorrow.  When you reach a significant birthday, it can be all too easy to dwell on what might be missing in your life. That seems to be particularly true of turning forty. As Nicholas Crane puts it in his own account of going for a (very) long walk, “The approach of a fortieth birthday adds momentum to any physical project. Suddenly life looks finite: you are half way there; half way to the end; your friends are balding and comparing notes on middle schools; that fleshy flange that rides over the trouser belt has become a permanent fixture; it’s too late to do the stack of things you’ve been postponing since your twenties: run a sub-three-hour marathon, change career, build a house. Forty is as good a time as any to panic.” Yet, today, as I stood on Carlton Moor with what felt like the whole world at my feet, all I could think of was how...

Day 12 and I awoke feeling refreshed to the ominous sound of fierce winds and heavy rain on the skylight. The forecast had got it spot on. After about 10 minutes of walking into horizontal rain, my GPS app also stopped showing me the route (I’d forgotten to download it to make it available offline). The thing is, neither of these things troubled me in the way that they might have done two weeks ago. I pulled my hood down a little further over my face, dug the slightly soggy map out of my pocket and pressed on in the direction of Ingleby Cross. It was a good job the navigation was reasonably straightforward,  largely through farmland, as I didn’t spot another walker the whole way. I’ve got pretty used to bumping into one or two of our exclusive little gang at some point during the day but the weather meant that no one was stopping for breaks or they had decided to set off later in the hope of avoiding the worst of the wet. I did however encounter civilisation but no...

After a hearty breakfast, I set off once more in the pouring rain with my sights set on reaching the Yorkshire village of Danby Wiske. I was wondering if Dan may have had a lucky escape when the driving rain was joined by a decidedly whiffy whiff from the nearby sewage treatment plant but that was quickly put behind me and I was back into the beautiful countryside again. I soon fell into step with a couple of other walkers - Tina and Stuart (from Australia, of course) - and spent much of the rest of the day in their company.  One of Day 11’s big moments was going under the A1 near Catterick Racecourse - it may not have been the most attractive stage of the walk but it felt significant because I always think of the A1 as the road that leads me up the East Coast to my favourite part of the world. Not too long after, we reached the pretty village of Bolton-on-Swale and St. Mary’s Church, which again provided refreshments for the weary wanderer. In the churchyard lie the r...

I spoke too soon about the brilliance of my friend rota. My friends, of course, remain brilliant but the rota is in tatters. A few bolts of lightning struck the East Coast mainline during Thursday night’s storm and the kind of transport chaos that only the UK specialises in predictably ensued. Poor Dan spent several hours at King Cross trying to move north but to no avail. So, I will be doing the last 6 days (instead of 5) on my own. But every (storm) cloud has a silver lining and the delays and cancellations also disrupted Liz’s journey home to Newcastle  meaning that we could spend more of my day off together. We walked the castle walls, ate ice cream down by the river and drank coffee on the market square. We also had the perfect start to the day visiting the stunning Millgate House garden. We were the only ones there and the overnight downpour had left everything smelling fresh and sparkling with raindrops.  Having seen Liz off on the bus back to Darlington, t...

Day 9 would take us to the bustling metropolis of Richmond. At just (!) 10.5 miles mostly over farmland, it wasn’t a particularly long or taxing walk by Coast to Coast standards. However, I was definitely off my usual pace, the efforts of the last week or so finally taking their toll. All my friends teach me different things and today I was particularly grateful for Liz’s serenity. With her by my side, I remembered to stop, to look, to really listen and what could have been a more monotonous walk after the drama of the previous few days turned into anything but. We visited a beautiful little Norman church in the village of Marske where they had kindly provided refreshments and an honesty box for walkers, drank tea and ate Liz’s homemade flapjack in the shade of a beautiful oak tree and paused in the woods to enjoy the birdsong. Slowing down has much to recommend it. Despite taking it gently, we still reached Richmond in good time and made straight for the nearest tea...

Day 8 didn’t start too auspiciously as we had been walking for a good 10 minutes before we realised that we hadn’t paid the bill at Keld Lodge and had to double back on ourselves! The false start also meant that we lost sight of George and Karen, who are hiking the Coast to Coast with their 14 year-old son, Jamie. I’d been reliably informed that Jamie was a dab hand at reading a map which probably explains why we didn’t see them again all day! Today’s scenery was different yet again. We had opted to take the ‘high road’ from the two options available. Mostly because it was a blazing hot, clear July day and we thought the views from the top would be worth it. They absolutely were but the shade of the valley may have been the more sensible choice. Even I had to wear shorts today. After a long and gradual climb with a couple of hairy bits (I’m not a fan of loose rock underfoot with nothing to stop me hurtling downwards, if I should lose my balance), we emerged onto a beautiful ...

Day 7 and, after a hug and a point in the right direction from Mark, I was on my way again - this time solo. This must have been exactly how Christopher Columbus felt when he set out to discover new worlds! I wonder if it was raining quite as much on him.  Dressing for a long walk when the forecast for the day is mixed is no mean feat and it’s probably no bad thing that no one else had to see me as I stripped off my wet weather gear later in the day only to find that you could still wring me out underneath it all! The big focus for today’s walk was to reach the Nine Standards Rigg which marks the point at which you cross the watershed of England and any rain that falls drains eastward to the North Sea instead of westward to the Irish Sea. Fortunately, I could just about make out the nine giant cairns through the mist but, as far as I could tell, the rain was still going nowhere other than running down my face and dripping off the end of my nose!  I struggled...

Today marked another milestone. Well, 21 of them to be precise. Walking from Shap to Kirkby Stephen is the longest distance I will have to go in a single stretch, so Day 6 had been looming large in my head. If I could do this, the whole thing would feel much more within my grasp. At the risk of ruining the suspense too soon, I made it ... with a little help from my friend who point-blank refused to let me stop for the last few miles. One of Mark’s observations from his time on the Camino was that ‘the universe provides’. Well, on this first stretch of the Coast to Coast, the universe provided me with him and, for that, I am forever in its debt. The walk itself was through open moorland, farms and rolling hills - quite a stark contrast from the Lakes that we’ve now left behind and with more respite for my overworked lungs. There are fewer features to navigate by but we did spot a few more signposts and it was comforting to keep bumping into fellow Coast-to-Coasters, Alex and Ki...

At the end of Day 5, I would be a third of the way through and have ticked the Lake District off the list. There was the small matter of a 15 mile walk to get through first. Up, up, up and then up a bit more pretty much sums up the first few hours of the walk from Patterdale to Shap. I convinced myself that my frequent stops were to make sure I could fully take in the beauty around me but I’m not sure that I had anyone else fooled! That said, I don’t have enough superlatives in my vocabulary to describe how beautiful it was. The Lakes in the sunshine: I’m truly blessed. What goes up, must come down and this is where I got to experience my biggest test of the walk so far. My left knee had started to niggle the previous day and a steep descent was not what it needed to recover. Trying not to bend your left leg going downhill or wincing every time you do, slows you down somewhat and it was only having Mark and Zan by my side that stopped the tears rolling down my face. In...

Day 4 and Zan and I were collected at our hostel by Brian, Inge and Seung on their way past. I’d been receiving live weather and terrain reports from our sixth team member who was already ‘on location’, so it wasn’t a surprise to find ourselves climbing once more and gradually feeling the mist envelop us. About an hour and a half in, we located a woolly hat poking out a bivvy bag at the side of the path and our party was once more complete. At that point, the mists also magically cleared to reveal Grisedale Tarn below. Cameras were quickly whipped out of bags but, after a brief stop to let Mark pack up and to check the map, we were back on our way. Today was the easiest and shortest walk so far which meant that it was possible to look up a bit more and talk without wheezing quite so much! We arrived into Patterdale in time for lunch and then checked into our lovely little B&B, Old Water View, where Wainwright himself famously stayed on numerous occasions. My ap...

Day 3 and I’m getting the hang of this walking lark. The routine is repetitive but reassuring - get up, repack, eat as much as you can for breakfast, set off.... Today saw the return of the Lake District weather that we all know and love: persistent drizzle, interspersed with the odd heavier shower. This meant that after a very steep ascent (if you have to use your hands, you’re climbing, right?), the decision to take the low road along the valley floor rather than walk along the ridge in the cloud was easily made. We continued to walk with Brian, Inge and Seung today and are becoming an easily recognisable little grouping as we make our way along the tracks and pathways. We arrived into Grasmere around 1:30pm, soggy both inside and outside our wet weather gear. Fortunately Emma’s Dell came to the rescue with the offer of excellent coffee and crepes.  After checking into my hostel up the hill and having a much needed shower, the rest of the afternoon was ours to enjoy....

Day 2 really delivered the stunning vistas promised in the Coast to Coast book which Don gave me as a gift all those years ago and made me want to do this walk. We started the day on a challenging path which hugged  the coast of Lake Ennerdale before emerging onto the beach at its furthest point where you could finally pause to appreciate the full impact of the view. There we fell into step with Brian and Inge, a lovely couple who kept us excellent company for the remainder of the day.  Refreshments were a little easier to come by today and after a reviving cuppa at YHA Ennerdale, we set off along a much easier track with another our next target. We’d heard that YHA Black Sail also offered sustenance and was perfectly placed at the foot of today’s big climb. After another pause in what would have to win best situated youth hostel in the world (if you are a fan of ‘scenery’), we started the slow slog upwards to the top of the mountain having also picked up Seu...

Day 1 didn’t disappoint. After scaling the cliff at St. Bees beach, we had a lovely couple of hours following the coastline northward before turning inland and making towards Lakeland proper. We were able to quickly identify our fellow coast-to-coasters. There aren’t many of us but we do keep encountering each other, each time any of us rests. We also bumped into Wainwright himself en route, a somewhat serious looking statue of the man and his dog pointing us in the direction of Robin Hood Bay. Which was rather handy as other signposts along the path seem rather few and far between! The weather was kind and the scenery impressive, although I became very focused on Dent Fell, the big hill that I knew we had to summit at the end of the day and which loomed large in the distance. We successfully tackled it after a lovely break in the woods, eating quiche bought in Cleator’s village shop. We had been expecting to find a pub there but apparently it closed a few years ago. T...

It’s amazing how quickly the sight, sound and smell of the sea can soothe a troubled mind. On our arrival into St. Bees yesterday, I took myself down to the beach for an hour and came back a much more positive person!  Mark must also accept a good deal of credit for the fact I start today in such good spirits. His confidence is infectious and over the course of dinner last night I definitely felt the scales tip back in favour of excitement over trepidation! We returned to the beach before bedtime for a second dose of meditation and watching the reflection of pink clouds playing on sands recently uncovered by the ebbing tide was a magical way to end an excellent day. Let the walking bee-gin... Day 0: Walked: 15,459 steps Stayed: Stone House Farm, St. Bees Ate: Queen’s Hotel, St. Bees

Put one foot in front of the other. That’s all I have to do for the next couple of weeks. How hard can it be?  My suspicion is that it might be very hard which is why I have been rather reluctant to start this blog. What if I can’t finish this challenge I’ve set myself? It’ll be difficult enough admitting that to myself without having to write it down. But I’ve finally come to the conclusion that the fact that I’m even giving it a go, despite my foot doing it darnedest to stop me, has to be worth a line or two.  And things have started well. Right now, I am snuggled up on a sofa at Jon’s place in Lancaster, enjoying a cuppa. My train journey here yesterday, transported me not only from south to north but also from tropical heatwave to dreary downpour but any gloomy thoughts the rain might have triggered were quickly dispelled when I saw Jon grinning at me by the ticket barrier. It’s been far too long since we last caught up and yesterday evening was spent making u...