Today must have been the easiest day of the entire project. Fine weather, dry but not too hot. Easy level terrain, either walking on a broad promenade or hard packed sand. A very relaxed day. Which is a good thing. Because all that rain yesterday left me with very sore thighs where the wet fabric of my shorts was rubbing against my legs. I’m applying Savlon liberally
First off; we lost the map. Gone, with no explanation. This could have been catastrophic on another day but it is pretty much impossible to get lost between Blackpool and St Annes. Just handrail the coast to the first pier. Stop for a cup of tea and you’re there!
Lytham and St. Annes are two distinct places. With the arrogance of a Londoner, I’d rolled their names into one. So far we’ve only seen St. Annes. Which has more sand than Morecambe! We have been here most of the day and not seen the sea yet. Just a never ending beach. With a bit of imagination, I think I can see breakers on a far western horizon. I walked that way for almost half an hour but found only more sand.
We had a picnic on the beach and Jezabel left me blogging whilst she went to the cinema.
This structure emerges from the sand about 100 metres from the pier. I’m not sure what it is but I don’t think it’s in regular use
Today has been the easiest of days. Tomorrow will be quite the opposite
Fleetwood (where the trams turn around) is a fascinating place, steeped in history,. Once it had a busy fishing industry with dozens of trawlers in the harbour. It was also until recently, one end of the Larne-Fleetwood ferry with four sailings per day. The fishing fleet is gone and the ferry terminal stands derelict
The jewel in the crown is still there though. Fully open and bustling busy, the North Euston Hotel occupies pride of place, overlooking the Wyre estuary, across the street from the ferry, right where the trams turn around. The North Euston Hotel got its name because (at the time) it was the furthest north you could go on a train before you needed to transfer to a steamer.
Fleetwood was the brainchild of Peter Hesketh (later to become Sir Peter Hesketh-Fleetwood) who, aged just 23, inherited the rabbit warren that he would transform into what we now know as Fleetwood. Over a glass or two of port, in the Athenaem Club in London (Nigel Tully’s club), young Peter Hesketh shared his ideas with his friend, architect Decimus Jones. Together, they created Fleetwood.
Fleetwood has two lighthouses.: the pleasant’ ‘Lower Light’ designed by Decimus and completed in 1840. And the magnificent and much older ‘Pharos Lighthouse
The Lower Light (1840)The Pharos Lighthouse (26AD)
The Pharos Lighhouse in Fleetwood is the last remaining of the seven wonders of the modern world. It stands more than 100 metres tall and was formerly located in Alexandria. Earthquake damage in 932AD and again in 1124AD rendered it unsafe and a new site had to be found. 13th century plans exist, drawn by the architect Abou Haggag Youssef Ibn Mohammed el-Balawi el-Andaloussi
We spent most of the day gathering this information . The town library is a valuable resource and really interesting .
We left Fleetwood at 2:30pm and were head to wind all the way to Blackpool.
I could hear the music of Blackpool 8 km before I reached the North Pier. I heard it long before I saw the outline of the tower. I arrived in Blackpool a windswept and waterlogged hiker: woolly socks, heavy boots and bush hat. Talk about sticking out. There were about a million young people on the streets, very loud, mostly drunk, in the main celebrating stag or hen nights. I plodded on through the rain, heading for the Pleasure Beach, my need for an adrenaline fix driving me on.
£45 is admittedly a bit steep but then it is the highesr roller coaster in the UK. But sadly, the park was closed due to the storm☹️
Distance: 12 km (it’s actually much further than that but I got a bus part of the way! 12km is how far I walked)
Steps: 22,3098
I hardly slept a wink last night. Finally gave up trying and started my exercises just after 3:00am.
Got the 05:33 from Bexley, 07:30 from Euston, standing with Eric at 10:30am👍 Morecambe Bay behind us with all the Sands covered by a high tide.
Morecambe is a much gentler place on a weekday morning than it is on a Saturday night, as when I was here last. I paid my respects to Eric and set my course for Lancaster
Lancaster is about 5km south west of Morecambe
Lancaster is a university city, so even at this time of year, full of young people. It’s also home to St Peter’s cathedral and a whole lot of historic architecture. A world away from sunny Morecambe. I headed for the bus depot.
A number 89 bus whisked me the 40km or so to Knott End and the driver tipped me out right on the slipway of the ferry. The boat was fully boarded and ready to cast off. The skipper chastised me ovr the tannoy for my lateness as I rushed down the slipway.
The two minute crossing cost just £2 and saved me a 12km detour to the first bridge over the River Wyre.
A dozen or so passengers disembarked and dispersed into Fleetwood. I simply crossed the road and checked into the North Euston hotel
I had planned to walk this leg with Molly (hence the nice hotel) but she’s playing at Bestival this evening and tomorrow the trains are all up the spout, so our plans have changed.
Every journey, however great or however small, begins with one step. Cue the meaningful orchestral music for this rather obvious statement. But it surprises me how many people don’t take that one step
My current journeys is about 4,000 km, which I have broken into numbern of ‘legs’. ‘Bike-size chunks‘ we used to call them. Each leg is segregated from it’s neighbour by some logical definition but the criteria are all different and very pragmatic:
Leg 1 – Jezabel accompanied me on this initial jolly. Starting North of the Border in Gretna Green and following the Cumbruian coastline past the begining of Wainwright’s ‘Coast to Coast’. We went as far as Ravenglass, skirting the western edge of the Lake District. That’s Jezabel in the photo below, taking an early morning dip in Wastwater.
Leg 2 – I walked this leg solo, doubling back just 12 km at the start in order to camp by the packhorse bridge at Drigg. I then walked on to Barrow-in-Furness and further to Morecambe. I took this photo of a seal, stranded by the fast receding tide at Morecambe Bay.
Leg 3 – The start of this leg, from Morecambe to Preston has been slightly delayed by the train drivers’ industrial action. God willing, I’ll be back in Morecambe this Friday morning. I’m looking forward to a brief nautical adventure at Fleetwood, then meeting Molly at Blackpool Pleasure Beach. We’ll walk together to Preston.
Molly is a big roller coaster fan
Leg 4 – The Liverpool Leg. I’ve never been to Liverpool, so this should be interesting.
Leg 5 – Wallasey Island to Prestatyn
Leg 6 – Offa’s Dyke
If you’d like to donate a few quid to Parkinson’s UK to support what I’m doing, please click on the link below 😘
I have restored the ’Comments’ and ’Donate’ features
So you can message me again and support Parkinsons (£££)
I’ve been so wrapped up in the walking that I had failed to notice the functionality of this blog site had deteriorated in two very important ways:
The function that allows you, the reader to comment back, had disappeared from the options. Last evening I engaged the services of a marketing professional and we put that feature back.
The ’Just Giving’ link had gone on the missing list. Several people have asked me how they can donate. I have restored the link via a simple URL and later today I’ll change that for one of those pretty WordPress ’buttons’
Well, both of these issues have now been resolved so you can donate your money to Parkinson’s UK through the blog site and tell me what you think of the show so far.
The Parkinsons UK donation facility will appear at the bottom of every future post and the place where you can message back to me is: ‘comment’, a menu option immediately below the post title line
So I paused my adventure at Morecambe. It’s not an endurance test. I’m doing this for the fun of it. I woke up this morning with sore feet and a stiff back. I’ll start Leg 3 from Lancaster / Morecambe.
I have noticed that just about every conversation around this neck of the woods either starts or ends with ‘The Sands’
Thousands of acres of sand encroach on every aspect of town life. And that tide really does come in fast. I ventured out a bit to see what would happen and I observed: The tide is sneaky snd comes at you from two sides simultaneously. When the wavefront is about 20 metres away from you the sand starts to hiss. In places there is a line of gulls, waiting. I imagine the poor little sand creature sticking his head out for just a couple of seconds, thinking “Is that sea coming then??” and POW, he’s lunch for a gull.
On the strength of my London Freedom Pass, I got free rides on a local 6A bus to Lancaster, then a 42 all the way to Blackpool, where we were stopped by the security services, who were blowing up somebody’s lunchbox in case it was a bomb. I dived into the nearest pub, The New Inn, until the cabaret was finished. The New Inn is opposite Blackpool North station. It’s a proper pub, off the tourist trail, with reinforced doors, fluorescent lights, loud music, pool tables and interesting punters.
I have always thought of ‘Fleetwood-where the trams turn around’ in the same way we think of Ashton-under lyme, or Newcastle-upon tyne, or Ashby de la zouch. Like it’s all part of the name.
But turns out it’s not. Fleetwood is the full name of the village AND the trams do indeed turn around there. Today I went to have a look
And found this fabulous old hotel. I also checked on the Fleetwood/Knott End Ferry
The Fleetwood Ferryboat
only to find that is currently broken down ☹️ There is only the one boat and the mechanic would not be drawn on how long it might be out of service. The absence of an estuary crossing at this location, could add on a 12 km diversion to use the next nearest bridge. I have spoken with the lady at Wyre Navigation, who operate the ferry and she assures me that it will be fixed by 22nd July 👍
I overdid it today. And I’ve got mysef confused as to the order in which I visited all these places. suffice to say “I have visited all of thes places but not neccessaily in this order”.
The approach to Warton is long and arduous. The road seems to go forever upwards. The official ECP doesn’t even touch the village but turns south a few hunded metres before you arrive. I kept straight on past the abandoned quarry. I’ve been there before but it’s not easy to find
A little ‘OSB’ sign projects ftom the hedge. This stands for ‘Old School Brwery’. What a find. Officialy they weren’t open yet but the lovely Dawn (most helpful) fixed me up with some pasrtries and an Appletize. A breakfast fit for a king! Dawn is also very knowledgeable anout the local geography and helped me to build a canalside walk into my route.
It’s a great venue, with outdoor covered seating and a good selection of beers. Proper little gold mine I shouldn’t wonder
Warton has been there a long time, as evidenced by these 14th century ruins.
This is what’s left of Warton Rectory, the former home of the Rector of Warton, apparently a big cheese back in the day.
I spent the remainder of the day beach walking and dodging quicksand. There’s a lot of sand in this bay. 
I chatted with people I met along the way. It was a Sunday afternoon, so quite busy
Apparently, Prince Charles had been in Morecambe this weekend to open a new leisure centre or something. This is the weekend of the Catch the Wind kite festival and being a saturday might, Morecambe is a Mecca for young people enjoying the nightclubs and bars
Every campsite was full, every hotel fully booked and the camper vans two deep at the side of the road.
Lovely 😎
I was resigned to a basher on the beach but the very helpful lady at the Travelorge started searching for somewhere for me to stay. Everywhere was fully booked. Whilst she was on the Bookings.com website, a room became available due to a cancellation at the Kerswell Guest House. “Book it Danno” I said. She gave me a blank look. I’m fairly certain this was the only available room in Morecambe at that time.
The Kerswell is in the West End of Morecambe, a few hundred metres beyond Aldi. This area is well served with thrift shops, new-to-you, previously loved and secondhand shops
Another resident of the Kerswell
The Kerswell is spotlesly clean and has been recently decorated. A very nice plc to stay 😉
I am eternally grateful to Jamie (heating engineer) who recognised my exhaustted state snd carried my bag to the hotel. Thank you Jamie. Look me up when you’re down South. I’ll buy you a pint 🍻
Morecambe is the birthplace of Eric Morecambe. He of the Morecambe & Wise show. A truly funny man, he ranks with Peter Sellers and Tommy Cooper for his ability to make people laugh just by standing on stage. No gag required
Whlst I was in Ulverston, I visited the Roxy to see the Laurel & Hardy exhibition. It’s a bit of a ramshackle assortment of props and ephemera, Perhaps not presented so nicely as it could be but there’s everything there if you want to look through it
The train from Ulverston to Cark is the only safe means of crossing rhe Cartmel Sands, without engaging the professional services of Michael Wilson at a significant cost
I took the old Bank Side road to Cartmel. A longer walk and much steeper but far safer from the traffic
Cartmel has changed. Grown up even. I remember twenty years ago, three good friends engaging in all sorts of tomfoolery, which included: me getting locked in the boot of my car, Michele getting thrown in the river, the girls rollerskating around the village square and a young lad hiding his chocolate biscuiits down the back of his underpants.
Wouldn’t happen now. The village square is awash with Range Rovers and Mercedes and everything is twice the price it shoul be. Damn good barber though!
I left via the back gate of the churchyard and up over the saddle at Fel End. They have made this much steeper than it used to be.
A trot down to Grange-over-Sands, where I reprovisioned from the Spar and l was on my way to the campsite at Silverdale. Such lovely people
I had the misfortune of staying at the Engine Inn. I cannot recommend it
Blooming horseflies! There are thousands of them about. I was proper bitten by one of them yesterday and this morning I have a lunp rhe size of a tennis ball on the side of ny neck. A trip to the pharmacist indicated ‘non drowsy” Piriton, so I’ve dosed up amd on ny way
To be honest, I’m not sorry to be leaving Barrow. The people have without exceptoon been nice and friendly but the environment of the town is grim. It has the feel of a giant factoy around which a town has grown. Which I suppose is exactly what it is. Somebody said to me that the town council sporadically brighten up an area but then then leave it, hoping that it will look after itsellf. Which leads to many half-hearted, scruffy, unfinished areas. I have noticed an almost complete absence of litter bins.
I headed for Roa Island. planning to sample the ferry boat to Piel island and lunch at the Bosun’s Locker
I took a look at the new hunter killer submarine
Not a lot to see really. It is moored at the far end of a secure dock and most of it of course is under water
“Around the back of Morrison’s “ Jon had directed me. “You’ll feel like you’re passing through some derelict industrial wasteland”. That was certainly true!
The crew of a large ship, moored alongside the quayside were carrying out a fire drill which involved a great deal of running about and shouting on the ship’s tannoy.
I’m a fairly slow walker. A guy overtook me, pretty girlfriend on his arm. Wearing shorts and with sleeves rolled up it was plain to see that he had a lot of tattos.
I was particularly struck by the tattoo on the back of his shaved head. I caught them up and taking courage in both hands I asked if I culd take a photo of the back of his head. “Nobody’s ever asked me that before” he said (“They were probably too scared” I thought, though did not say). I took the photo and sent it to Jack.
The horseflies were at their most aggressive on the path outside the gas terminal. I went on the offensive and covered myself in jungle strength bug repellent roll-on. It worked, no more trouble from horseflies, though I did smell like a leaky petrol pump.
I reached Roa Island by midday and headed straight for the Bosun’s Locker for lunch. The only way on to the island is via a causeway, a 1 km road in summer but the waves crash over it in winter. Today there’s a fierce wind that nearly blows me off my feet.
Bosun’s Locker is popular café on Roa Island
Roa is a tiny island. I guess there can only be a poulation of a couple of dozen, tops. On which basis the whole lot of them were in the Bosun’s Locker for lunch.
Customer service could be summed up as ‘innattentive’ and I was sharply reprimanded for sitting at a table that was ‘reserved’ I was instructed to wait over by the door whilst the manager lady checked if they could fit me in. When I finally did sit down to order, the man on the next table was accused of moving a chair!
The food however was first class and plenty of it 😊
Coastal erosion has taken its toll on the RNLI facility on Roa Island, the aproach gangway has had to be significantly extended to reach the land.
You can reach Piel Islandbfor £6 by ferry
Piel Island is even smaller. The only people who live thee are the pub licensee and his wife The ferry to Piel Island was not runing when I visited Roa, due to strong winds.
I camped out in the basher at the Gibraltar Farm campsite at Silvedale. Neil and Andrea were incredibly kind and allowed me to stay for free, even lending me a clean towel. Eee, luxury…
Today has been an easy day. I left my wet laundry and basher strung up on makeshift washing lines at the accommodation and went off exploring.
First impressions are big. Big roads, wide pavements, big buildings, big retail/shops and most of all, big industry.
This is the building where BAE Systems is building the new Dreadnaught nuclear submarines. It’s huge.
The Jubilee Bridge was built as a toll bridge in 1908 but was given to the nation in 1938 by Queen Mary.
I turned right off the bridge and walked on the Vickerstown foreshore towards the nature reserve and ‘airport’.
This tiny bridge, some 400 metres north of the Jubilee Bridge only appers at low tide. It is designed so that shellfish can make a safe crossing between the mussel beds on either side of the channel
Sad to say, the ‘Rosvara’ is fairly representative of the srandard of boats on this side of the channel
I think I feel a project coming on. Have you still got that trailer Paul? She still has two marine diesels with stainless steel exhausts
And then the trail turns abruptly inland to join the much overgrown ‘airport’ perimeter track. The vegetation is 2 metres tall and for almost a kilometre, the only way I can fnd the true path is by prodding with my pole to find something that isn’t mud
The Walney Memorial is thought provoking and innovative
And clearly still in use today
I had lunch with the kite surfing dudes at Earnse Point and rode back on the bus to visit the (truly excellent) Dock Museum
Huge thanks to Manon and Jon for befriending me, for a fish & chip supper and for a personal whistlestop tour of Barrow (including the abbey)
Oh…and the ‘airport’?
I can only assume that their usual busy schedule has been put on hold whilst they await the arrival of the Antonov.
Sebastian's Swagger 