Post watershed

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 a little to find the right path to take from there but eventually I was striding out once more towards the open expanse of White Moss Hill.

After another hour or so of walking, I stopped to huddle by another cairn to drink some tea and realised that I hadn’t seen another soul for miles. I always feel a bit daft when I catch myself talking to myself at home but I decided that here, with no chance of anyone hearing me, it would be perfectly acceptable. I may have startled a few sheep but the conversation was surprisingly good ;)

As I walked down the path towards the hamlet of Ravenseat, the second best sign I’ve ever seen came gradually into view (nothing will ever beat ‘To the tub’). This one simply read: Cream Teas. To which I answered (out loud, of course), “yes, please!”

I rang the bell at the farmhouse as instructed and placed my order with a rather beautiful woman before taking a seat in the nearby outhouse with a couple who had just driven up and done the same. It was they who informed me that I had just met the ‘famous’ Yorkshire Shepherdess. Well, this remarkable woman may have given birth to 9 children, written several books, been on the TV and, er, been a shepherdess but her scones must surely still be her finest achievement. They were melt-in-the mouth delicious and carefully delivered to my table by an impeccably-mannered young waiter who could not have been more than six years old. By the time I was ready to set off again, quite a little crowd was gathering in our little wood shed, having come from far and wide. It was a bit of a shock after the previous few hours of solitude.

Leaving the hubbub behind, I was soon back on my own ... but not for long. A little white dog from one of the farms I passed must have taken a fancy to me because she decided to accompany me most of the rest of the way to Keld. I kept trying to send her back home again but she would just cock her head to one side, look at me quizzically and carry on trying to trip me up on the narrow path that I had decided to follow instead of taking the road.

I actually quite enjoyed her company but fortunately she wandered off when I stopped to talk to a local who was intrigued (in a good way) by a lone female hiker (from London no less) walking the trail. I had to confess to not being quite as intrepid as he had thought, especially as I was very much looking forward to seeing Liz who was joining me in the evening and who would walk with me for the next two days!

Right now, I am lying in bed at Keld Lodge - the halfway point of the Coast to Coast - having just watched the sun rise in a riot of pinks and oranges outside my window. I am almost jealous of the people whose tents are pitched in the field just below. It’s going to be a fabulous day!

Day 7:

Walked: 30,707 steps (11 miles)

Stayed and ate: Keld Lodge