Tag Archives: Nice People of England

Coast to Coast – Blakey Ridge to Glaisdale to Littlebeck

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July 6 – Our B&B host (who had a gorgeous garden filled with feeders and birds of all sorts for our breakfast watching pleasure) ferried us back to Blakey Ridge. The trail started with several miles of highway walking, so he did us the favor of dropping us off at the end of the highway where the soft track began. A shepherd’s hut dated 1801.

Pretty heather.

We continue to scratch our heads at some of the instructions on our guidebook maps. This morning it said we would be walking along a “metalled” road. We saw tarmac and dirt track, but no metal. A mystery. (A Google search afterward informed us that in Britain a paved road is sometimes called a metalled road.)

Yesterday we were told to look for “grouse butts.” Huh? Little bird heinies? Today we came across several camouflaged stone structures as we walked. Perhaps hunters hide behind them when they wish to be concealed from the grouse? Like a duck blind or a deer stand? Grouse butts.

Before we knew it, we had reached the little town of Glaisdale. There’s an old church here, with a wooden baptismal font cover that dates from the sixteenth century. I especially liked one of the stained glass windows. There is a portrait of Tom Ferries here.

The Beggar’s Bridge is here. The legend says that in the early 1600s, Tom Ferries, a pauper lad, fell in love with the daughter of a wealthy local squire, but the swollen River Esk kept him from visiting her. He went to sea, made his fortune, returned to town, became mayor, built a bridge across the river and married his true love.

Our travel brokers arranged for a taxi to take us to the next town, Egton Bridge, where we are booked in the same hotel for two nights. We thought this would be a treat, but it is the saddest accommodation we’ve had on this trip – a bit run down, poorly managed by two overworked young girls, and most importantly, no WiFi! Once again, we were assigned a time to eat supper in the hotel’s overpriced restaurant, (no other options nearby) and we dare not be late! This too shall pass.

July 7 – A good breakfast this morning, and as we made our plans for the day, we realized that the trail was just down the road. Why were we instructed to take a taxi? We ended up just canceling the taxi and walking on from where we were. The RC church of St. Hedda is here. I liked the windy steps up to the organ loft.

We walked along a toll road. We weren’t charged.

A short hike got us to the pretty little town of Grosmont, very touristy, and the home of the last coal fired steam engines in England. Although these beauties were retired from service 50 years ago, they run one train between Grosmont and Pickering for the tourists to ride. These are the very engines seen in the Harry Potter films as the students steam their way to Hogwarts each year.

From the engine yard, the road went up, and up, and up some more, reminiscent of the streets of San Francisco.

We huffed our way higher and higher until it seemed we were looking down from an airplane. At the summit of the hill, high above the tree line, it was perfectly quiet. Nothing grew more than a few inches tall. It felt like we were walking on the moon.

Down the other side of the hill, across a field, and we approached the town of Littlebeck.

This is where our trail will end for the day. A taxi has been arranged to shuttle us back to Egton Bridge. We waited for it in front of a little Methodist chapel, which welcomed hikers and provided hot chocolate and tea. Nice People of England.

Coast to Coast – Richmond to Danby Wiske

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July 2 – Back on the road this morning for a long slog (either 14 or 16 miles depending on which book you believe) that our guidebook says is the most uninteresting of the entire walk. Oh boy! At least it’s flat, the sun is shining, it’s not as hot as last week, and a breeze is promised. Who could ask for more?

We started confidently out of Richmond. So long Castle!

So long city!

Following the guidebook, within two miles we found ourselves off the trail and walking along a highway. Drat! Nothing worse than adding miles to an already long day. We walked to the next town, and saw some folks standing at a bus stop. Where’s your bus going? Back to Richmond. Drat! A little old lady asked why we were walking through town. She pointed us at a farmer’s field, and said we ought to be heading that way. Okay. As we opened the gate to walk through through the field, the farmer jumped out of the barn and yelled, “whoa!” He pointed to another track, and told us to follow the power lines through the wheat fields until we saw the sign for the Coast to Coast. It worked! Nice People of England!

So what did we see today? A beck and an old bridge:

A rock quarry with an unnaturally blue pond:

A church where the world’s oldest man lived (and that offered cold drinks for hikers)

And a long road walk into town. Total miles: 16.

Our supper tonight was at the White Swan, where you had to sign up for a time slot at which you would be fed. We were assigned 6:30. We were careful not to be late! Looks like we have 60 miles to go to complete our Coast to Coast Walk .

After supper we walked down the street to see the Danby Wiske Church, parts of which date back to Saxon times.

Over the door is a Norman tympanum made around 1090. It depicts three figures, almost worn away, that are said to depict the Angel of Judgement (in the middle) weighing the soul of the figure on the left. On the right, the Angel of Mercy puts a hand under the scale to reduce the weight of the soul’s sins.

It’s easier to see in the sketch below.

There is also part of a cross thought to date from the 8th century, and an effigy of Matilda, widow of the Lord of Bedale that dates from 1340. We just don’t have things that old back home.

Coast to Coast – Keld to Reeth

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June 29 – We bade farewell to Neil, Karen and Jess, and started the long walk down from Frith Lodge in the cool of the morning. Yes, I am wearing my long pants! The Dales look especially pretty today, with walls and farms and stuff to look at.

We met the folks from California again, as well as four Australians we had spoken to several days ago. The River Swale burbled nearby on our right as we walked along.

This holiday cottage just needs a little TLC.

The trail is mainly grassy and flat. My kind of trail!

This farmer is, quite literally, making hay while the sun shines.

This type of stile is called a squeeze. I’d like to be nearby to watch how some of Aussies with their beer bellies get through it!

After lunch, the trail joined the road, and in a matter of minutes, a couple on holiday from Kent pulled over and offered us a ride into town. Nice People of England! It’s always a pleasure to save those last few miles into town.

So here we are at the Kings Arms, in a tiny room over the pub. Fish and chips and a pint of Coast to Coast ale for supper!

Coast to Coast – Shap to Orton

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June 26 – If you want to know how the empty hotel saga ended, we went downstairs for breakfast at 7:30 in the morning (the time we were told), and found no one in the kitchen or the bar. There was, however, a trucker delivering sinks, who needed a signature on his manifest. He was wandering about, shouting hello, just like we had done yesterday. I offered to sign. We found the coffee machine, and sat down for a nice chat. There was a chicken wandering outside. He suggested we go see if she had laid any eggs, so we could make ourselves some breakfast! He was from Worcestershire, where the sauce is made. Nice People of England! At 8:00, a lady came to cook our full English. Off we went!

Only 8 miles today, still clear and sunny. We have officially left the Lake District, and are now walking through the northern part of the Yorkshire Dales. Signs of civilization.

Scary signs too. Beyond, there be dragons!

We passed a double stone circle, that our guidebook says has been there for 8000 years. Behind it is a copse – another word we don’t use every day.

Then there was a boulder, as in “go straight on past the boulder.”

Before very long, we arrived at Orton, a sweet little village.

All Saints Church was open for us to see.

They have some big old bells.

And a bell ringers band!

Colorful pipes.

We’re staying at the historic George Hotel.

The shop had some products we don’t see everyday. Love chutney!

Coast to Coast humo(u)r:

Seatoller to Grasmere

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June 23 – We had a lovely dinner last night with a room full of retired Brits on holiday, who wanted to know our thoughts about American politics and education. The only topic they all agreed on was that they were against vegetarianism. Lucky for me, I could speak knowledgeably about the current seasons of The Crown and Call the Midwife, so conversation never flagged.

Yesterday was only the second in a series of horrendous mountain adventures. I apologize in advance if I resort to more whining today.

We picked up our path at Stonethwaite, where many people were camping. Today is Saturday, so the trail will be busy.

Up we go!

Drat! Those big rocks again!

Gaining altitude. Don’t these sheep have the sweetest faces?

Lots of waterfalls today.

Getting higher!

The first summit!

I thought we were done, but there were two more summits to climb. One of them was called Lining Crag. Don’t ask me which one.

My lunchtime view. Note that one of my boots got stuck in the muddy bog.

On our way down, we met about 50 girls climbing up with full packs. They were all on a four day expedition to qualify for their “D of E”, the Duke of Edinburgh Award for all around achievement in creativity, community volunteering, physical skills and leadership. Very impressive!

Baa baa colorful sheep, have you any wool? Silver, black, brown or white, what color sweater would you like?

When we finally reached the road toward Grasmere, a mum with two toddlers immediately pulled over and asked if we needed a lift into town. Yes! I must have looked as sorry as I felt. I climbed in the back between 6 year old Robert and 4 year old Stephen in their car seats, and we had a lovely chat. Nice People of England!

The Dales Way – Sedbergh to Kendal

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June 16 – Today is a rest day for us, and as luck would have it, rain is forecast for the whole day. When booking this hike, Jim hit a snag, as the next destination after Sedbergh was a place called Burneside, that had no available accommodation whatsoever. The best thing we could do was to book in Kendal, a fair sized city not too far away.

This morning at breakfast, we asked our host Carol if she could call us a taxi. After a half hour of trying, she reported back that all three taxis in town were already busy. Perhaps the bus? Great! We love buses. As it is Saturday, the bus runs on a reduced schedule. The next one comes at 10:50. Great!

We walked down to the bus stop, in front of the library, and chatted with the librarian and folks coming in for books, including an older couple who told us where all their relatives were buried from the Great War. Eventually, the bus pulled up, and folks queued up in typical British fashion. It wasn’t a full sized bus, but more of a large van, with many of the seats already taken. Two people paid and embarked, at which point the driver announced that the seats were all full, and no one else could get on.

Folks got out their mobiles, trying to call a taxi, or canceling their plans. We asked if we couldn’t stand and ride (absolutely not). The driver called and asked if another bus could be sent for the six of us who couldn’t get on, but there was no other bus available. Sigh. Another bus would come in four hours.

The old couple from the library watched all this transpire, and when we walked dejectedly back into the library, the husband offered to go get his car and give us a lift. Nice People of England! Philip is a lay preacher at the Methodist Church in town, and we spent the half hour ride talking about his family and his faith, singing in the choir, and the sermon he was writing for Sunday. What a nice man!

So here we are in Kendal.

A bustling town with folks out shopping on a Saturday in the rain.

They have a famous Chocolate House that’s been here since 1657.

We didn’t stay out long, but bought some food (meat pies) and went back to our nice hotel for a lazy afternoon of doing laundry and watching the World Cup games. England may be a contender!

The Dales Way – Swarthghyll Farm to Cowgill

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Our Swarthghyll Farm hosts John and Freya came over and introduced themselves after their daily chores were done. Although Freya used to work in Los Angeles, they love the life here, and wouldn’t trade it. They purchased the farm as a ruin – no roofs – and have been building it back a bit at a time. Freya had prepared us a lovely pasta casserole for supper (yay! no chips!) that we just had to pop in the oven.

June 14 – It was a treat to cook our own breakfast in our little kitchen this morning, with farm fresh eggs and lots of coffee. We watched the weather closely, as we read that a big storm was due in this area. Not sure how they define a gale, but they name them like hurricanes, so they can’t be good. This one is called Hector.

It looked very windy, with tree limbs thrashing about, but no rain, so we set off. Leaving the farm and walking out onto the moor, the wind gusted so ferociously that it almost knocked me over, and we were pelted by icy rain. My hat and glasses flew off, and I’m shouting, “Help! My glasses!”, but the wind tore the words from my lips. Finding my glasses on the ground, Jim about-faced, and we marched back to our cabin.

Jim went back to the farmhouse to ask John’s advice about whether to wait an hour or so in the hope that the severity of the wind might abate, but John counseled him to go now, as it was supposed to get worse later! We put on our pack covers and rain gear, tightened every strap, and set off again. Remember: we are in the middle of nowhere. There is no phone service and no Uber (not a thing here) or taxi we can call. We can’t stay here another day. We have a reservation in Cowgill. We have to walk.

Okay, do you remember the scene from The Wizard of Oz when Almira Gulch is pedaling her bicycle furiously through the twister? Start there. Add the music if you wish. Then add driving wind that knocks you backward at every step. Gusts of rain like needles on your face. Now trudge uphill, directly into the wind! Don’t forget to climb over every stile, holding on for dear life! The big rocks that we clambered happily over yesterday are now slick and treacherous. The dry gullies are now filled with rushing water. The only blessing is that sheep turds are sufficiently heavy that they do not become airborne, because flying sheep dung in the face would just really be the last straw!

Jim’s pack cover went airborne, and he just managed to grab it. After four miles of this torture, we reached the cairn that our guidebook said was the highest elevation of the entire hike. Of course we stopped for a picture!

In the distance, we saw a truck parked on the other side of the next stone wall. As we approached, a young man rolled down the window and asked if we would like a lift. Just like that. Calm as you please.

David is the forestry manager for this part of the Dales, and was sitting there in his truck as it’s the only place in the entire area that has cellphone reception. He was waiting for a client and had a few minutes to spare, so he drove us down a ways, off the ridge, where the wind was less intense and we could resume our trek. Thank you David – Nice People of England!

The inclement weather continued for the rest of the day, with periods of rain, gusts of wind followed by a moment of sunshine as the clouds blew across the sky. Now that we were off the ridge, it was a fine day as far as I was concerned. We walked along the River Dee, and ate our sandwiches sitting on mossy wet rocks.

We passed by a huge aqueduct, built in the 1800s.

There were pretty flowers, refreshed from the rain.

A farmer’s fence proudly displayed a collection of dead rats.

We arrived at the Sportsman Inn. I like their sign – a chain of one!

They had a carved tree in the back garden.

Now we’ve had a bath (showers are not an option here), hung our clothes to dry, and are feeling much better about the day. We ordered Beef Madras for supper, which was just spicy enough to make my nose run, just the way I like it. Now the sun is out (did I mention that it is still light here after 10pm?).

No WiFi here, so this will have to wait before I can post it. Friend Tom, I can hear you laughing and shaking your head. Don’t we just have the best stories?

Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the Midday Sun

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Will you still need me,

Will you still feed me,

When I’m 64? – Paul McCartney

June 6, 2018 – Where better to celebrate my 64th birthday than the home of the Fab Four? Today we embarked on a trip to England for a two month hike through the English countryside and national parks. We hope to hike through the Cotswolds (marked on the map below in green), the Yorkshire Dales (pronounced Dells and marked in blue) and go cross-country on a Coast to Coast Walk (marked in yellow). We hope to encounter some midday sun.

June 7 – We arrived at Heathrow after a no-drama all night flight, to stand in an hours-long queue at Customs that moved agonizingly slowly. We theorized that this was the Brits’ way of training newcomers to queue compliantly, like civilized folk. Just a theory.

We eventually retrieved our packs and made our way via the London Underground (mind the gap!) to King’s Cross Station, where there actually is a Platform 9 3/4 for Harry Potter fans, and several Hogwarts shops. Photographers were doing a brisk business snapping would-be wizards running their trolley through the brick wall.

The station also sported a huge tyrannosaurus just erected to advertise the latest Jurassic Park movie.

We boarded our train for a two hour ride north to Leeds, where we will spend a jet-lag recuperation day prior to commencing our Dales Way hike. In our sleep-deprived state, we stopped frequently to ask for directions and for help with ticket machines and such. At every turn, the folks here have been smiling and helpful – Nice People of England!

June 8 – After 12 hours of sleep (interrupted periodically by young men singing lustily about their favorite teams in the pubs below until the wee hours) we felt much perkier this morning. We looked out our hotel window to get an idea of the weather by what folks were wearing, and saw some in tee shirts and some in heavy jackets with scarves and collars turned up. We opted for jackets. We walked around Leeds, where the weather is chilly and overcast, scoped out some future food options, found a cash machine, and dropped a box of maps and supplies for our future hike off at the post office. We’ll pick it up farther north next week.

It turns out you must also mind the gap at the post office. They have lots of gaps here.

Leeds is a working class city with lots of shops and restaurants, that boasts absolutely no tourist attractions. The Who recorded an album here (Live at Leeds) back in the day. There are some nice brick buildings, and double-decker buses.

Unfortunately, there are homeless people sleeping on the sidewalks here. I don’t take pictures of homeless people.

A new use has been found for the old red telephone boxes!

We had a perfect Kerala Indian lunch at Tharavadu, with three different curries and delicious thin naan. Spicy enough to make my nose run, but not so spicy that I broke out in a sweat. Yum! There are many Indian restaurants here, and they advertise which part of India the dishes are from. Kerala is southern cuisine.

There are statues here, which seem to attract pigeons just like in other parts of the world.

There is wall art here!

A relaxing day. Tomorrow we travel north to Ilkley!