Rane King is a very good friend of ours from ‘Back in the Day’
He has joined us as an Editor. Styled unashamedly after Matt Matthias, one of our very cleverest electronics engineers, Rane was the architect of the original King Sound System in 2013.
This role has now been taken over by Jack, who has taken the system to the next level. When Rane was specifying the components he sourced the Rauland horns fron Broadway, New York.
Rane has great walking experience and was with us from London to Lands End in 2015. He walks with a limp and suffers from tinnitus
We’re back home for a few days , to reprovision, change our socks and plan the next ‘leg’(Seascale to Blackpool). We arrived home at 6:30 pm, which is quite acceptable considering that we were in Ravenglass at 10:00am
Burnthwaite Farm is a step inland and is nothing whatsoever to do with the England Coast Path, but we love this valley and its surrounding hills. Our friends Georgina and Andrew manage the farm for the National Trust and run a lovely B&B. We really couldn’t come all his way without spending a couple of days here.
Yesterday we climbed halfway up Great Gable, my personal favourite mountain, had a substantial lunch in the Wasdale Head Inn then on to Ritson’s Force, a series of pools and waterfalls, where Jezebel stripped off and went for a paddle.
The weather was kind to us, dry and sunny, and we fell into bed exhausted last night
Another nice day, we set out to walking over to Dalegarth station at Boot in Eskdale. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers. After about 6 km we reckoned we were probably about half way, so stopped for a picnic lunch by Burnmoor Tarn. But the cows were soon coming to investigate so we hastily moved on. We were faced with three trails where my map said there were two. We took local advice from two other hikers: Rachel and Steve, who told us the safest way down to Boot. This entailed returning to the top trail. We went our separate ways but about half way up I was running out of steam and realised that I was overdue with my medication. I sat down to take the tablets and to have a rest whilst they began to do their job.
Rachel and Steve were on the other side of the valley but had seen me go down. They immediately back-tracked and helped us down the hill to Boot and safety (’safety’ being The Boot Inn). Thank you Rachel and Steve👍
Today has been 21st June, the summer solstice, which means:
The longest day of the year
We planned to travel back to London today
All the trains are on strike
We’re stranded in Ravenglass
It ain’t so bad. Jezabel went swimming at 3:00 am in the icy water of Wastwater, to watch the summer solstice sunrise (with six other ladies, who have a swimming club called ‘The Wild Women of Wastwater’). Julie and Chris, who have the shell shop in Ambleside very kindly gave us a lift over to Eskdale (Thank you! 👍). We’ve found accommodation at the lovely Rosegarth Guest House and I went for a walk this afternoon (12.2 km, 20,190 steps)
We opted for a packed lunch in lieu of breakfast and so we were out the door at 8:05am. I really thought that we’d been so clever, scoping out the coast path yesterday in an attempt to avoid these steps
But the more gentle route we had found ended up going round in a circle and we were back where we started but half an hour later in the day. The coast path went up and up, mostly on the edge of the cliff top. We met dozens of dog walkers, plus one lunatic aviator who was preparing his parachute and waiting for just the right windy gust to whisk him off the cliff top and up into the air rather than dashing him on the beach 120 metres below. Braver man than me
Jezebel befriended a birdwatching lady and through her binoculars we spied a colony of baby penguins, high in the cliff. The birdwatching lady, being new to the sport, suggested that they might be guillemots but Jezebel put her straight
The best view we had all day of the Sellafield nuclear power station was as we crested the hill above St Bees and began our descent. But we didn’t realise at the time and kind of assumed that the view would improve as we got closer. So we didn’t take a photo from there. It didn’t improve. In fact, all you can see close up is the fence. So here’s a good library picture
We’ve stayed in St Bees before, when we walked Wainwrights ’Coast to Coast’
Sellafield. ”They really don’t want you in there.” said Jezebel
Jezebel spotted this extremely poisonous adder on the path to Seascale
The Bailey Ground Hotel is nowhere near Bailey Ground on the map but is actually located above the ice cream parlour in Seascale (full size cow outside on the pavement). This is to be our accommodation for tonight.
We’ve just caught up with the news that there is to be a train strike commencing 21st June. We have ’advance’ tickets for our return to London on this date. We need ton take advice.
These bars from Rapper’s Delight in 1979, hang on the wall above my bed. Today we are just tourists, having a day off to explore this historic Georgian seaside town, to do some admin, catch up with some emails and go to the barber. We took the train for an 18 minute journey, passing through Harrington and Parton and we’re holed up in the quirky ’Room 9’ at the Waverley Hotel. Not a room at all, but a rambling former flat/apartment. Two bedrooms, a lounge, a kitchen and a few corridors. definitely not everybody’s cup of tea but we love it.
Whitehaven was once a truly great port, rivalling Bristol and Liverpool. Today it is a marina, home to hundreds of yachts, with a good selection of pubs, bistros, wine bars and even a nightclub. A busy town on a Friday evening. The Beacon museum tells the story in fuller detail and is well worth a visit. There’s a Raleigh Chopper on the 4th floor.
The Vagabond is one of the old dock side pubs.
I’m not sure what this building is, out on the harbour wall but it is proudly flying its flag.
The Met Office has predicted that for much of the UK, today will be the hottest day since 1976 but not so Whitehaven, where it rained all day. There’s a lot of redevelopment and building work going on here, some of which has affected the route of the coast path. So we went on a recce to scope out tomorow morning’s route out of town
I have been thinking about why my legs gave out on me yesterday. I put it down to a number of factors combined.
Dehydation
Heat Exhaustion
Walking on unstable, uneven ground
Unreasonable expectations
Parkinson’s Disease
I can and will do something about all of these issues when we resume walking tomorrow
Thank goodness Brian as there for us
All set for a nice early start, heading for Sellafield
We set out from Maryport on a glorious summer day. OS Explorer maps are unbeatable on the trail but are not so well suited to use in town centre streets. Particularly old towns. Particularly out-of-date maps. We escaped Maryport more by chance than good navigation. Jezebel found a dog-walker’s track off a roundabout that went in the right general directioom
The path led across some overgrown land to a tarmac path much like the path we had followed from Allonby. Then two guys on electric bikes rode by. We’d seen them on the coast path yesterday. So we stopped following the map and followed our noses.
With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, I realise that the writing was already on the wall. My gait had become discoordinated and Jezebel had taken most of the contents of my rucksack and put them in hers. The tarmac path led onto the beach, then, heavily overgrown, back inland towards Filby train station, about 4 km south of Maryport.
We crossed a total of four bridges like this one
Jezebel counted 27 birds, all dressed the same and pointing in the same direction. She says they are kitiwakes
We stopped for a picnic lunch, after which I found that my legs had ceased to function. Dear Jezebel went into full blown sherpa mode, then went to find help
She returned with Brian, who helped me down the mountain, then very kindly drove us to the Travelodge.
We were up and packed early for a 7:30am breakfast. Redundant maps, surplus kit and dirty laundry mailed back home ahead of us to avoid carrying extra weight.
The official start point for the England Coast Path is in Allonbury, about 5 km south of Silloth. We were there before 10:00am. It is the most inauspicious sign post you can imagine. There’s even a litter bin fixed half way up the post. No trumpets to herald ”The Longest Coastal Footpath in the World”.
We met Trevor, also walking the England Coast Path (in sections). I wonder if our paths will cross again?
8 km to Maryport. Today has been a blazing hot day with little or no shelter.
We couldn’t resist this mural on the end of old Tom Moore’s house in Allonby (that’s Sir Tom Moore to you and me!). He singlehandedly pushed a wheelbarrow around his garden, where he met the queen.
Maryport is a lovely town. don’t you go believing otherwise. It’s not posh and there’s an abundance of social housing but its a proper town.
We went down to the harbour where they have this sculpture and some hard working fishing boats
Then off for a quick Tandoori meal and back to to Golden Lion Hotel.
Note: there’s a campsite here on the harbour with ’Pods’
It would have been churlish to turn down Simon’s kind offer of a lift in the orange taxi. I had it in mind that we might blag a lift to Abbeytown, but Simon would hear none of this and drove us all the way to Skinburness, just a hop, skip, and a jump to Silloth.
Mid way between Skinburness and Silloth stands the Silloth Light. Not really a lighthouse, more a lantern on top of a pylon.
We were in Silloth by 10:30am, plenty of time to have a proper look around this traditional seaside town. There’s an amusement arcade, a nice park, a chip shop, loads of ice cream places and a good selection of pubs and restaurants
We stayed at the Green View Guest House, which has a superb location, right on the main street overlooking the Green. There is an interesting collection of clocks. My favourite has to be the USSR rectangular clock from the 1960s
In Malayan folklore there is a wise old theory which goes a little like this:
When you make a dramatic change to your routine (for instance – walking all day, every day or starting a new job) the first few days will be difficult (we all know this!) but the wise man knows that:
The first day will be tough but enthusiasm drives you on
The second day will be more difficult because your mind and body will ache from yesterday
The third day will be even more difficult still because apart from the challenging regime you’ve set yourself, everything aches and perhaps enthusiasm may have started to wane (often people quit on the third day)
The fourth day, things get easier (though many people never find this out because they already got beaten by Day 3)
So, today has been a ‘third day’. Everything that was difficult was very difficult. My rucksack was unaccountably too heavy. I ran out of steam before we had even got half way. I ended up on my arse on some steep slippery wooden steps. Oh, and it rained. Torrential. Cats and dogs.
Today’s walk was challenging. The highs were mostly to do with animals.
With but an apple for breakfast, we left the accommodation and walked 2 km into the historic cathedral city of Carlisle.
Crossed the two channels of the River Esk via the new bridge (built in 1932). We descended time-worn steps to the park below and followed the south bank of the river west towards the sea.
Some fabulous old industrial architecture, then lunch in the lee of a busy ‘A’ road bridge.
There was the cat with the bright blue eyes and a dog called Shadow, who we met in the Greyhound pub at Burgh by Sands (which more accurately might be called Burgh by Mud)
We stayed here at the grand Hillside Bed & Breakfast, looked after by bowls champion Sandra, third generation occupant of this enormous brick built property. Sandra makes fabulous damson jam, thick-cut marmalade to rival Frank Cooper and made a donation in memory of Mary’s husband, who had Parkinson’s Disease. Thank you.
Today has been a bit of a road walking day. We crossed the marsh to Drumburgh where Jezebel spotted a parish shop, run ’honesty box’ style. Here we had a cup of tea, stocked up with Rocky Road and Chocolate Tiffin and used the facilities. A lady was painting her gate.
We were puzzled as to how Port Carlisle got its name. It is only a tiny place, little more than a collection of a few houses but in Victorian times pleasure steamers: the ‘Cumberland’ and the ‘Arrow’ vied for space with submarines on Solway Firth and a substantial deep water dock was built at the northern end of the Carlisle ship canal
Masquerading as Hadrian’s Wall walkers, we had our picture taken at ’The Bank’
Where once a train ran on stilts.
At 4:50pm precisely, we were collected in a bright orange taxi cab and whisked off to The Inn at the Bush, our accommodation for tonight
Sebastian's Swagger 