With the Pennine Way done last year, I've kept walking every day of every week with the continual aim of not letting that be the last and losing any of the fitness gained - and so it was onto the next one... The Coast to Coast... and Ana (very reluctantly) decided to come along again. Being from Richmond, this has always been something that I've been meaning to do so it was good to finally get on with it! On this occasion, we had 12 days to complete it in due to Ana's remaining holiday days... which is a bit shorter than ideal... although it ended up being much shorter still thanks to the increasingly depressing weather forecast for what was planned to be our last day. In the end, it took us 10 1/2 days - with the itinerary shown below being our actual route/timings rather than the planned one:
- St Bees - Ennerdale (28km)
- Ennerdale Water - Borrowdale (20km)
- Borrowdale YHA - Glenridding (27km)
- Glenridding - Shap (28km)
- Shap - Kirkby Stephen (33km)
- Kirkby Stephen - Low Row (32km)
- Low Row - Brompton on Swale (30km)
- Brompton - Ingleby Cross (28km)
- Ingleby Cross - Blakey Ridge (33km)
- Blakey Ridge - Falling Foss (29km)
- Falling Foss - Robin Hood's Bay (18km)
As before, we were camping our way across the country, although this time we had a lovely break by staying at home in Richmond for two nights in the middle... as it would be rather stupid not to take advantage of that! Despite learning from the last walk and cutting out a number of things from my packing list... somehow our bags still weighed in at about 15kg to begin with, which seemed a bit excessive but really seemed necessary. Ana also managed to arrive in Richmond without her gaiters, rain cover for her bag, waterproof trousers... so sister Meg to the rescue on those fronts!
As a bonus twist, the night before we were due to be setting off, already in bed, Meg came knocking and phoning at about 11pm to tell us to run to the garden and look up. We knew the northern lights were forecast and had received the alerts but had chosen to ignore the chance of a distant glimpse in favour of a half-decent night's sleep. But am I glad we got out of bed to have a look! We spent the next couple of hours racing around Richmond well into the morning to enjoy the rare spectacle, so here's a snap of that, before finally getting our heads down for a few, short hours.
Now onto the actual walk!..
Along: 28km | Up: 952m
With a 7.30am start and a lift over from Richmond from my Ma, we were dropped off at St Bees at about 10am to have a quick foot-dip in the sea, collect a couple of pebbles to carry with us and be on our way.
A lot of people stay in Ennerdale Bridge for the first night, and camping is available in the garden of The Fox & Hounds (aptly named, as just an hour or so earlier we had found ourselves in the middle of a large pack of slightly blood stained hounds running free through the valleys - arseholes), but we had booked a spot a wee bit further on at the Wild Wool Barn by Ennerdale Water itself. Of course, that didn't stop us from having a lovely evening meal there before continuing on the last few miles to pitch our tent with a beautiful sunset view!..
Along: 20km | Up: 1227m
Throughout this trip, my aim was to largely stick to the high routes where possible and tick off a few Wainwrights along the way and, although I had noted some short detours to nearby peaks, I should certainly have checked more closely which lesser-known ones nearby might have been attainable in advance as well. I was surprised to learn that I ended up walking right by some little summits, that barely registered in the moment, once I checked after I got back... still... everyone knows that I do kinda wing it with planning these things so it was hardly too much of a surprise. The same lack of precise plan also allowed us great, useful flexibility later on in the trip.
We were well aware, right from the start of the day, that thunderstorms were going to be approaching in the late afternoon/evening so today was a particularly early start to race the downpours to Borrowdale - with regular checks of the radar along the way. We started with a steep, grassy climb straight up from the farm to Great Borne, where we would continue along the ridge past Starling Dodd, Little Dodd, Red Pike, High Stile, High Crag, Seat and Haystacks - with amazing views down into both Ennerdale and Buttermere.
Finally, on the ridge, was the steep scramble up Haystacks - which I had no idea was gonna be so much hard work - always thinking it was an easy mountain. Not least with my regular fear, but my arms were like jelly after pulling all of that weight up the side of the mountain... but once again, nothing ever looks steep on wideangle photographs... By this point we were both knackered and in need of some water refills, so didn't spend too much time up there - although very nice to finally see Inominate Tarn, where Wainwright was scattered back in 1991.
Finally, as you can see, with the cloud starting to bubble up it was time for a race down to the relative safety of Honister and (hopefully) Borrowdale YHA before the lightning reached us. I found a lovely lone tree which I intend to be back for, one day, and we wanted to enjoy the woodland in the valley (with the mini via ferrata) a lot more than we had time to...
The storm arrived, very literally, within 2 minutes of us finishing putting our tent up and getting inside. Perfectly done. Ana had spent the whole day complaining that being out in lightning is a very middle class, British fear and there was nowt wrong with it... that was until there was an enormous bang at which point everyone in the place went 'Ooooooh' whilst a very confused Ana was asking 'What was that?'. Not believing for a second when I was repeatedly telling her it was the thunder.
Turns out, the lightning hit that phone mast just outside the Youth Hostel, ruining their payment system for the night... but also finally putting the real fear into Ana that maybe lightning can actually get you and it's shit scary when it's so close to doing so!
And the evening was topped off by a second, excellent Ana observation - that the term 'youth hostel' was very much a misnomer given the age demographic of every single person in there, bar us... all at least close to pensioners. A little sad, in some ways.
Along: 27km | Up: 1243m
Day 3 was very much a day of two halves, with an up and down for the morning, into Grasmere, before another up and down into Glenridding by evening. Once again, we were racing against an incoming band of rain so the amount of time we'd spend on the higher routes was very much dependent on that. As it turned out, the rain arrived a full 3 hours earlier than anticipated which added to the sense of the day being split in two very distinct halves.
But as we got higher the cloud kept lifting and after much reassurance from plotting the route on the map that there would hardly be any extra climbing - Ana agreed that we could take the high route along to Helm Crag before dropping down for our dinner - hurray! It also helped that I promised her an actual, proper climb at the end of it to reach the summit - something a little more adventurous and right up her street.
I always, always seem to struggle, feel the most lethargic and get the most pain from my bag round about the middle of the day and this was especially the case today - with a reyt miserable slog to Grasmere in somewhat less than my finest mood. We grabbed some sandwiches, Ana went in search of some waterproof trousers (laughed in the face of some shop assistants who told her the price of some £150 ones (on sale!)) and then we were on our way. Still watching the radar, it was clear that the real high routes of either Fairfield or Helvellyn were not gonna be the most enjoyable experiences today - so off we popped on the regular route up Tongue Gill, past Grisedale Tarn and down Grisedale itself.
It hadn't been the warmest of days, but I refused to leave the Lake District behind without having had a dip somewhere along the way so this seemed as good a spot as any - and, as usual, the cold water never fails to make everything feel absolutely perfect again. The downside was that as I was getting dry, it soon dawned on us that it was no longer water splashing on us from the waterfall and instead the sky had decided to begin unloading on us... a very wet few hours lay ahead... although the good side of this is that I could just stay in my swimming shorts and accept the inevitable - an attitude that stuck with me and served me well in the coming days too!
Now time for a small, but expensive, gripe of mine... and I will stand by it until proven otherwise. Despite spending a fortune over the years I am confidently going to say that Goretex has never kept me dry. Not one item has done the job. Montane jacket and some new shiny Inov8 boots with their first full wet day test - still nope. Thank god for looking cool in ponchos and bright swimming shorts!
The other thing to note now is that (and she would say this herself) Ana becomes an awful, sad, miserable and angry human in the rain... contrary to what that photo might suggest.
I don't add that information just to bully her... but it is somewhat relevant for the rest of the day. As a result of her anti-pluvialism she then rushes to get it all over with as if the ground is normal and nothing is slippy and, on this occasion, managed to fall twice in anger, bashing her head on a rock, managing to get quite a bit of blood out of a nastily scraped wrist and smashing her phone. Overall, not great additions to an already miserable evening. She did survive though!..
At the end of this day, I did have something to look forward to as a couple of weeks previously I'd seen a beautiful field of bluebells overlooking Glenridding and Ullswater which I had just so happened to sneak into our itinerary by staying in Glenridding rather than the more common option of Patterdale. Although it was a shame to come to them under these circumstances, with the rain still pouring and the woman still fuming, they were still as impressive as I had hoped, despite being a bit rushed.
Just to add to the eventful afternoon - I tried to be good by pointing Ana in the direction of the gate in the field and our campsite below whilst I dashed off around the bluebells for 10 minutes - an attempt to make everything as efficient as possible and ease her pain/anger. Once finished I went to the gate, saw she was gone, assumed she had continued to the campsite and raced after her... only to arrive and, after asking the owner, find that there had been no sign of her yet.
The owner suggested I wait it out, she'd find her way down (which she would) but after explaining that I thought I had left an angry human up there... inevitably felt the need to rush back up the hillside (no phone signal in any of this) to go looking... and, as demonstrated in the earlier photo... she was wearing a purple poncho in amongst the field of purple. Perfect.
Long story (slightly) short, it turns out there were two gates at the bottom of the field and she had actually been lovely and waited for me in the rain by one of them. By the end of it all she at least cheered up, for a bit, once in the tent and with some noodles inside her... although still promising to quit if we had another rainy day... so I can only thank weather-Jesus after that for the relatively lovely rest of the trip (not including the next morning, which she was already aware of).
Along: 28km | Up: 947m
As expected, the day began still wedged firmly underneath the band of rain which promised to continue for much of the day - so there's not a lot to photograph here. We made good work of the climb out of Patterdale and soon reached Angle Tarn, before yet more miserable trudgery up to the higher sections around The Knott and on towards Kidsty Pike, where things took a much more interesting turn! Following on from the day before, I'd decided to dress to get wet and dry off - just wearing some long (underwear) cycling-style shorts, a t-shirt and the poncho... perfectly cool for going uphill and quick drying later on... although, I am certain, looking somewhat ridiculous.
Immediately as we hit the summit, looking down Riggindale towards Haweswater the wind was immense. Both of us have spent plenty of time in the hills and mountains, as have, I imagine, the vast majority of the other people doing this walk... but this was real stormy, somewhat concerning, blow you onto your arse/off the mountain type weather - to the extent that it ended up being a common topic of conversation amongst everyone we bumped into over the coming days... "Were you up there when...". So here's a short video, at normal speed...
It was also a wee bit of a challenge with visibility, Ana's in particular down to a few inches for quite a lot of the time thanks to her poncho!.. but with hail being blasted into our faces, perhaps the poncho-blindness was preferable. By now, I was getting a bit worryingly cold (all part of the plan) so hurried along, shivering my arse off, as quickly as I could where as soon as we dipped off the summit I had a nice dry fleece, my normal red (supposedly) waterproof coat and some gloves to put on whilst my pants dried out in the wind. One thing that I always notice is that as much as Ana can be miserable at times when I make her do these walks, it always switches once it's me who needs looking after for a bit. It's like our total happiness/misery has to balance out to zero and she was a wonderful woman helping me dry off, still pretty high up and wild, and get changed and warmed up when I required it.
The rest of the day remains, infamously, a bit of a horrible, misleadingly unflat, relentless one - all the way along the shores of the endlessly dull reservoir. Ana did not like this one bit, the rain turned to prolonged showers, at least, and we made our way to Shap (seemingly getting further away with every step closer to it we got). At least there were a few nice bits of woodland and a hidden waterfall in the final couple of miles, along with Shap Abbey. Unfortunately, our campsite - despite saying it had a bar and food on the website - didn't have a bar or food (although it did have, thankfully, a drying shed!)... so we ended up having to add a couple of miles that evening to go to the pub, where we had a delightful time with some cheesy chips and an American lady we had bumped into/helped out earlier who happened to be staying there... at least Americans make up for our conversational ineptitude.
This was also the moment that we started bumping into regular people along the way, and Ana started helping me out with recognising them. For whatever reason, I completely lack the ability to properly listen to what others have said to me and generally have no idea what they looked like as soon as they've gone. I cope with a bit of small talk then forget they exist. But increasingly, as Ana pointed out later in the trip - I ended up using her before every person we saw as I asked the questions "Do I know them? Have we met them before? Where did we meet them? What did we say?". I ended up feeling like royalty, getting a quick debrief before every chat whilst then coming up with our next bit of witty chitchat as we invariably approached them for the overtake.
I reckon the system worked a bloody treat. Between us, we almost add up to one fully functioning human being.
Along: 33km | Up: 404m
This is a supposedly easier leg of the trip, what with it being between the Lakes and Dales so somewhat flatter... although we did cram what some people do in two days into just the one - with no stop off in Orton. I can't say it's the most interesting day though, for the same reason as it being relatively easier... the sense of it just being an in-between area. The only real visual highlights are the great distant views of the Howgills to the South, a lovely view down to Smardale Viaduct and the ever-impressive profile of Wild Boar Fell upon getting close to Kirkby Stephen.
This was, however, the day of finding ways to entertain ourselves and as such - counting the number of overtakes and planning out what became almost like F1 race tactics with when to stop became an important part of avoiding boredom - and it started getting noticed (by others) how we seemed to be the quickest ones on the walk, even despite the fact we were a rarity in carrying all of our luggage and a tent. I am well aware that this walk isn't there to be raced through, but rather enjoyed - and yet another wise observation came from Ana in that it seems very different to the Pennine Way in this regard. Here, I constantly found myself defending why we were planning on completing it so quickly whereas on the Pennine Way everybody seems to be competing for speed - it's weird how two (in many ways) similar walks can have such very different feels and types of people walking them.
With the daily race going on in our minds, this would also be the first day we saw who we believed to be our only real long-term competitor - recognisable by the fact that he was doing it at a very similar pace to us (although not with a massive bag) and wearing sandals. At least this was somebody I could recognise! Although he almost haunted me for the rest of the trip everytime someone looked like coming up close behind us... we knew he was always there or thereabouts. Anyhow, I can highly recommend Pennine View Park in Kirkby Stephen - by far the best camping of the trip, with a full kitchen, perfectly flat ground and a beautiful barn conversion bar/restaurant to relax in... a great end to a long day.
Along: 32km | Up: 877m
Today was a day with a plan that we hadn't even come close to nailing down right from the outset due to our flexibility of a night or two in Richmond. It was also the day the 5-day forecast came into view and we could see the potential for a horrific final day of the walk if we kept it as 11.5 days. As such, we began to be mindful of picking up a few extra miles where we could. Initially, the plan was to get to Gunnerside and either wild camp up the top of the Ghyll or walk down to get picked up and taken for the night in Richmond. We opted for the latter, and half-way through the day, still feeling pretty good - extended that to Low Row with the idea that the following day we could eat a few miles extra into that long slog across the Vale of Mowbray/York. Anyhow, as you will see, the walk up from Kirkby Stephen to Nine Standards Rigg was pretty bleak - although we managed to fly past everybody else leaving town that morning, as Ana has this weird thing where she openly thinks you HAVE TO overtake people (whether walking or driving) as fast as possible to minimise the time of the overtake. I'm not sure why, but she's adamant this is a rule, leaving her little legs working overtime in an attempt to keep up some seemingly unsustainable paces until out of view. I just have to lengthen my stride and pretend to look normal...
Once up on the top and heading across the moor to Ravenseat, the 4 miles of bogs slowed everyone down somewhat but we ended up being the guinea pigs picking the route through it all that the pack squeezing in behind us followed. Ana managed to end up knee-deep at one point and I had to pull her back out before possibly losing her entirely - but at least those following us openly appreciated the good work we were doing! I also can't help but think that there's something about being brought up in these parts that makes me natural at spotting where is safe/unsafe to cross these areas without losing a shoe. Certainly a hidden talent.
Anyway, I promised Ana the sun would shine before Swaledale where I was hopeful of another dip near Keld... perhaps just to keep my own hopes up, as much as anything... and, lo and behold... upon reaching Ravenseat and onwards to Keld the skies cleared and the landscape became beautiful again... and I got my cold water dip to once again numb my feet and make everything feel lovely...
A couple of days earlier, chatting to the American lady, Ana had told her I was exaggerating when telling her about the tens of waterfalls around Keld... as if I was just saying it to show off... I felt somewhat more ashamed that I'd not shown Ana more before now, just visiting the same old well-known ones... so this time we took a slight detour along the north of the river to at least show her Currack force (great spot for a picnic and a wash) before then getting to see the ones in Swinner Gill too.
It's not long since we had been up this way for the next section - where I took a photo that went unexpectedly viral - and I know that Ana finds it an incredibly boring walk... which I absolutely agree with on the top section, near Rogan's Seat, but with our route then taking us down to Gunnerside I love the views down into Swaledale along that high track. She still disagrees and loves to moan about how long it is, I reckon it's one of the best few miles of Swaledale views that there is.
Regardless of previous mood, upon getting down from the tops it was not entirely a surprise, after seeing the beginnings of hay meadows earlier in the walk, that the usual meadow at Gunnerside was good enough to raise anybody's spirit!.. So time for a short break to enjoy that before heading down the valley, past plentiful wild garlic and to our lift awaiting us for our first night of Richmond.
Along: 30km | Up: 320m
Well, this was going to be a thoroughly indulgent, relatively easy day. After a night with Edward (the cat) we left our bags at home and caught the Little White Bus at 9am back up to Low Row, retraced our steps to the parking space where we'd got in the car the night before and were back on our way. I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoy walking normally, but now with just a small day pack and a change of shoes for the day - everything felt fresh and lovely again.
The day began damp, but we soon got to Reeth where I had inevitably planned to be getting a morning ice cream from the Ice Cream Parlour... we also treated ourselves to a visit to the Copper Kettle Cafe and Dales Bike Centre for some afternoon sustenance in the form of 'brookies' (cookie/brownies).
Clearly the fact that I'd weighed myself the night before and somehow managed to gain weight, so far, on this walk... that was not going to change anything here.
Next was the walk to Richmond, which I know well, past some more beautiful meadows just outside of Reeth, up the Nun's Steps (which I think Ana enjoyed too!) and onward down Swaledale where we bumped into a surprising amount of others doing the walk - largely from abroad. I don't think I'll ever get bored of bragging to anyone who will listen that I'm from Richmond, the original Richmond, the Yorkshire Richmond etc... and it seems that on this adventure I finally found the audience that I've spent a lifetime looking for! No explanations necessary, I can just do my excellent work as a one-man tourist board/guide. We also bumped into a lovely couple who recognised us from all the way back in Borrowdale whilst hiding in the hostel from the storm.
As planned, to get a little bit ahead for the next long, flat, boring day... we continued on for the 8km or so past Richmond to Brompton thanks to the still-relatively-fresh legs unburdened by backpacks... through some lovely fields... before once again getting picked up for a lift back to Richmond for the night (via more healthy food in McDonalds).
Along: 28km | Up: 58m
This was always going to be the most boring of days... so there's really not much to say. It was a great decision to start 8km in thanks to the extra work the night before and then it was just a case of powering through, with a lunch break at Danby Wiske, to get to the pub at the end.
There were at least a few things to keep us entertained along the way, a mile of enclosed (so unavoidable) mud to take our minds off carrying the weight, hidden waymarkers, amusing signs, a large warning to take a break and the thrill of crossing the railway and a busy A19... oh, and another spotting of our friendly Sandal Man... pushing us all the way...
With it being so flat, we got to the Blue Bell Inn at Ingleby Cross relatively early and had a lovely, relaxed evening in the sunshine. One thing that I noticed earlier, I think in Borrowdale, was that there was seemingly a mistake on a Wainwright glass but assumed probably a one off... although it turns out it's printed on all of them! I can't believe I'd be the only one to have noticed?
And then, before even having our evening meal of self-cooked pasta/noodles - we cheekily ordered (you were supposed to prebook food) what ended up being our meal of the trip almost everywhere along the way... garlic bread and cheesy chips. They looked magnificent, but we had certainly had better/crispier/cheesier.
Along: 33km | Up: 1074m
Another day today where the weather influenced more things than anticipated. Waking up in a thick fog, I could see from the satellite images that in all likelihood we were just sat below a strong inversion, with all of the North York Moors (just a few hundred metres up/away) still clearly visible from the sky. So we got packed up a little quicker than normal and were on our way in the hope of reaching some sunshine (which, spoiler, never came).
We had already decided to squeeze the final 16km from Wednesday into a long last day to finish on the Tuesday evening due to the awful weather heading in that day - but we were now also aware of Tuesday having some heavy showers around too. The plan for the entirety of the North York Moors section had remained up in the air until this point but, after our early start, Lordstones camping already being full, the pointlessly bland weather giving us no views and a chat with some Americans mentioning staying at the Lion Inn on Blakey Ridge... we decided to extend the day yet again and go all the way there. Although we still stopped off at Lordstones for a very, very impressive lunch!
This extension made it our most difficult day of the trip - although I think not knowing at the outset that it was going to be a long one certainly helped me... Ana would beg to differ towards the end. I always thought there should be a way to measure difficulty as a function of distance and ascent and, it turns out, there is a famous guide for this. Known as Naismith's Rule, you can at least calculate a rough time to complete a walk which, assuming constant effort, should work as good approximation for difficulty too - with our route ending up looking like this:
The change of plan now put us back closer to my original schedule just a full day ahead - with a final stop at Falling Foss and a short last day that we could time to avoid the morning wetness. Anyhow, well and truly stuck in the low cloud for the day, we felt at least more fortunate than all the foreign visitors as we know the views from all along this edge of the Moors perfectly well... so could at least imagine what we were missing. I don't like to think how rubbish this would have seemed for people new to the area! This was also another moment for a wonderful Ana quote:
"It's not that bad to have a view like this, at least you don't see Middlesbrough."
On we went, past a rather busy Wainstones where, rather appropriately, with only moorland ahead for the final 10 miles, I believe Ana's patience also began to wain (never let that photo smile fool you!). Apparently, playing 'Last Mile of the Way' by Westlife on my phone at the appropriate moment wasn't enough to lighten the mood either... but at least I had a boyband fueled final 15 minutes! And then, finally, putting our tent up outside a rather miserable, windy Lion Inn but knowing that warmth and a massive piece of pie to share would be awaiting us inside... a pretty grand way to end the day.
Along: 29km | Up 479m
Don't let the header picture for this day mislead you... the morning began how the previous day ended. Lots of pointless moorland, lots of grey skies, nothing to see here. Throughout the trip, there were at least as many Americans and Australians as there were locals - and I'd always known from living on the route that this would be the case - and everytime we chatted to any I always had the intention of asking why, but the question always seemed to escape me in that moment until today. As it turns out, I picked the wrong tourists - the only answer I got from the whole trip is that they had been invited by their friends, didn't know where the idea had come from, before their friends dropped out and left them to it. Great. Still none the wiser.
We eventually dropped down into Glaisdale where we grabbed some snacks from the butchers for dinner as the sun finally decided to show itself followed by a much more lovely second half of the day, including a not-so-peaceful brew at a cafe/pub where the cockerel seemed to enjoy taunting some dogs before sexually assaulting one of it's harem. Lovely, quiet countryside.
There were plenty more lovely bits along this section of the trip, despite it being another relatively long one - the constantly changing views, landscape and villages kept things somewhat more fresh than the endless moorland. Getting into Grosmont, we had an explore of the wonderful gallery of Chris Geall... where I'd love to visit again if I had £500 spare... before we got held up by a number of trains whilst Ana got excited about sheds. The final big climb of the trip came up the 1 in 3 road out of Grosmont, after which we finally had proper views of Whitby and the North Sea. We also got to see plenty of baby grouse that I subsequently learned are, apparently, called 'cheepers' or 'squealers'... we did our best to avoid them but they just surrounded Ana and were hiding away from their angry parents behind her feet - presumably thinking she was a rock or something.
Finally, the short, very green, very pretty stretch along Little Beck, past the hermitage to Falling Foss and - just above it - our campsite for the evening at Newton House Farm...
There is something tragic about the following photo - finding Ana huddled up inside the kitchen on such a lovely evening outside... but I don't think there's another human on the planet that feels the cold like she does. You can sit in beer gardens and have everyone around you in t-shirts and shorts... but it will take a good 30+ degree day to tear the 3 jackets from her.
I did lure her out for a bit though... to sit in a little sun trap by the facilities... which ended up as a perfect demonstration of two very different outlooks on the same scene.
Sat next to each other, we were either spending the evening hiding from the wind behind a toilet block, trying to keep warm... OR... we were having a lovely summer's evening meal, outside, watching the sunset over the valley.
As a result of the cold, plus the midges, Ana was soon in the tent to have a well-deserved nap whilst I got to enjoy the sunset with the joy of access to a kettle to have as many easy hot drinks as I wished!
Along: 18km | Up: 276m
This is where all the checking of multiple forecasts over the last week paid off and the extra effort we'd put in over the two previous days to make this a short one gave us the flexibility to avoid a good soaking early on. We stayed in the tent/kitchen area much later than usual as, right on time, it rained pretty heavily for a few hours between 6-9.30am which we were able to completely avoid. This worked even further in my favour as I had been keen, after two previously failed attempts when it had been closed, to finally get to try the Falling Foss Tearoom - which opened at 10am. To add to my morning's amusement/bemusement - I ended up chatting to an American lady who had stayed further back in Glaisdale but had already caught up with us after an early start. She had managed to get thoroughly wet thanks to putting her waterproofs away in her luggage (one of these sherpa tour people, I think) which is obviously something that you just don't do in the UK... Then, after I mentioned we knew the rain was coming so stayed inside all morning, she caught me slightly off guard by asking (what I thought) somewhat ridiculously "how did you know?". To which I, looking back, rather condescendingly replied with a questioning tone, "the weather forecast?"...
It was only on discussing the ridiculous question later, with Ana, that she pointed out that perhaps I could have been more tactful and talked about specific weather forecasts or whatnot... too late by that point.
Next, back up over the tops for our final bit of moorland, where we had another slight scare with the ever-lingering thought that Sandal Man could be the guy catching up behind us at one point to be the only person to compete with us on this race (it was not, we were safe and in the end won the day outright regardless). Some distant views over to Whitby and some very sad looking lone trees... before the final stretch of North Sea Coast...
I'm not a great fan of coastal footpaths, on the whole, as it just seems a complete waste of a view on one side... never changing... so after a bit of a drag we finally made it! Even Ana had been saying all along that she would also have a proper dip in the sea, despite the weather, only for us to find that the tide was high and there was nothing to hold on to. It looked way too choppy to be safe... bah. Still, we got our feet wet, touched the water, had our photos taken and had plenty of chats with other tourists who kindly came to congratulate us. It's always nice to feel a wee bit famous, in comparison to finishing the Pennine Way and being the only ones in the pub not to have just completed an ultramarathon - at least people here recognised a good long walk when they saw one!
All done, then just the walk back up the hill (which now seemed easy!), bumping into some others just arriving that we'd seen along the way followed by our lunch looking over the bay from the Victoria Hotel, somewhere Ana had picked out in advance... and then the simple bus and train journey back to see the cats - with Laqueefa looking particularly obese (partially all the fluff from lack of attention, largely the fact she eats everything when I'm not there to control it)... and then to create our own drying room.
The following day, to top everything off with our expert planning - I discovered that Robin Hood's Bay, of all places, had been the wettest place in the entire country throughout Wednesday daytime - so a great big thank you to the Met Office on that front (pun intended)! And I dread to think how horrible it must have been for all those we passed along the way - what a sad end.
Some final notes:
My Inov8 shoes - a mixed bag. For the £80 I spent, as they had been mispriced in the shop from between £160-200 - I did only get one tiny blister from the entire trip this time and their weight and comfort was just a joy throughout, but as mentioned, the Goretex lining did absolutely nothing to keep my feet dry in the wet, despite them only being a month old - leaving me unsure whether to complain or not. They certainly didn't do what they're sold as doing, but my accidental discount was just too good. On the other hand, my last-minute purchase of Sealskinz waterproof socks really saved the day. I didn't wear them on the wet days themselves, but for the 2 days following the rain, with already wet boots, they kept my feet 100% dry whilst the boots could sort themselves out.
With 5 miles left of the walk, once again to raise spirits, I decided to play (of course) '5 Miles' by James Blunt on my phone - "I've got a real fast car with the keys in, And I'm just five miles from a feeling. So when your red lights go turning green, now. If you say you're coming with me, I'll take you there" - to which, when asked the question, Ana told me that she would definitely jump into his car if he pulled up at that point. Nice to know she'd quit after so much effort - but then I very much get it.
I know it's not a race, but it really was very satisfying to feel confident that we were the fastest and carrying the most stuff out of everybody who set off anywhere around the same day as us. It's a weird achievement that I didn't expect to enjoy.
Going back to the waterproofness of things - having spent a lot of money over the years on expensive fabrics and 'technologies' I am now coming firmly back round to the idea of bugger it, get wet, wear light clothing, get dry - it served me very well on every occasion on this trip and would save a fortune on branded clothes that do bugger all.
I'm still none the wiser as to how this walk is marketed to the Americans/Australians - I can't even seem to find any answers online. It's a nice walk and all that, but I'm baffled that it's worth travelling across the world for... any ideas? Anyone?