John and
Gary are up sufficiently early to make walks (separately) around the island
before breakfast – albeit the circumnavigation takes a mere 15 minutes.
Wildlife sightings include a fledgling owl making several unsuccessful attempts
at flight inside the castle walls, and some extremely vocal oyster catchers
looking after their eggs along the shore. (This uncharacteristic
Springwatch-ish piece of information reflects the impact of the island – at
least on this particular visitor.) We’ll be walking over the sands to Walney Island
at low tide around 9 o’clock. Sheila advises us to avoid the nature reserve at
the southern end of the island because we could be attacked by gulls protecting
their young (sounds like a sensible precaution!) and, before we leave, Steve
drives half way over the sands so that we can take the best route by following
his tyre tracks. Nothing has been too much trouble for them. After an
unsurprisingly good breakfast, the walk to Walney takes just under an hour.
Once there, we initially go south through a “holiday park” but then follow
Sheila’s advice and turn off at the entrance to the nature reserve and head for
the west side of the island. With the tide out, we have an easy couple of hours
or so going northwards along the beach with the only debate being whether, to
get to the eastern side, we should cut across the island (and if so where) or
continue to follow the shoreline. We decide on the latter but, after rounding
the northern tip, we soon have to divert into some overgrown
fields which take quite a while to find our way through – not helped by the
absence of obvious paths and the presence of the perimeter fence of Walney
airfield. Even when we’re back near the shore, there are still a few marsh
ditches to get over (or around) before we’re confident of being left with a
straightforward route to Barrow. It’s now simply a question of whether, to
cross back over the Furness, we’ll reach the pedestrian “footbridge”
(essentially a series of very large stepping stones) before it’s submerged by
the incoming tide, or whether we’ll need to continue a further half mile to the
main Walney to Barrow road bridge. We arrive at the footbridge and manage to
cross it in time – but only just. A few minutes after getting to the mainland,
we look back and the bridge has all but disappeared. A twenty minute walk
through the somewhat deserted streets of Barrow gets us to the station in
sufficiently good time for cans of cider and sandwiches to be not only
purchased but also consumed and the cans supplemented before our train arrives.
Our on board drinking is put somewhat in the shade by two couples who are
quaffing champagne – a matter of no apparent consequence to their neighbouring
passengers or the frequently appearing Northern Rail ticket inspector. Clearly,
this is commonplace on the Furness peninsular (?sp Ed). Not sure what they do
on our arrival in Lancaster, but we catch our
connecting train which John leaves in Warrington
for his onward journey to Birmingham whilst Ben
and Gary continue to London
and the latest tube strike.
Day 74 – Flookburgh to Roa Island/Piel Island
Whilst not
the most luxurious of our overnight stops, the Hope and Anchor ticks all
essential boxes – hospitable, clean and comfortable. After breakfast and early
postcard purchases at the local post office, we walk back to the junction of
the farm road – a location which is noteworthy for being the site of the
Cartmel Sticky Toffee Pudding Company. We realise that, with the exception of a
few beers from the surrounding area, we haven’t availed ourselves of any local
produce on our last two or three outings which is perhaps why, even at 9 a.m.,
we suddenly develop a hankering for Morecambe Bay Shrimps. There’s some drizzle
in the air which soon disappears and the sun starts to break through in time
for our meeting with Ray, the guide who is going to take us across the Leven
Estuary. It’s only 3.5 miles west to the estuary and north to Sand Gate Farm
where we’re due to see Ray at 10:30, so we arrive slightly earlier than the
appointed time. After 5 or 10 minutes, a gentleman on a tractor appears and,
perhaps lulled by a cheery smile and the fact that a tractor was Cedric’s means
of transportation when arriving for the Morecambe Bay crossing, John greets the
gentleman with the words “You must be Ray”. This proves to be inaccurate in
terms of both grammar and identity, and the person who actually is Ray arrives
on foot a few minutes later. Our crossing of the Leven is, if anything, even
more enjoyable than the crossing of Morecambe Bay. It’s entirely through water;
the views of the railway bridge over the Leven and beyond towards the hills of
the Lake District are spectacular; and lo and behold, on the other side of the
estuary at Canal Foot, there’s the welcoming sight of the Bay Horse pub – and
it’s just after 12:00. It would be remiss not to take advantage of the pub’s
hospitality in order to dry our feet, get back into walking boots….and take
some refreshment on board. Suffice it to say that we’re not on our way again
until around 12:45. After passing Conishead Priory, there’s quite a bit of
beach action over Ulverston Sands before we have to get up to the path
alongside the coast road at Rampside just outside Barrow. During the afternoon,
the wind has been getting stronger and a phone call to Sheila at the Ship Inn
on Piel Island where we’re staying this evening elicits the information that
the ferry from Roa Island to Piel isn’t running because of the high winds, but
that her husband Steve will come and collect us. As we cope with the crosswinds
on the causeway to Roa, we attempt – with a degree of success – to establish
some rules justifying why, as a matter of consistency, there is no need for us
to visit the various other islands in the Furness estuary. When we reach the
lifeboat station on the tip of Roa at 4:30, the Piel Channel looks (admittedly
to three landlubbers) distinctly choppy and, in a further phone call to Sheila,
we’re told that Steve won’t be able to set off before 5:00 when the tide is due
to turn – hopefully resulting in slightly calmer conditions. It’s closer to
5:30 when we see a rather small boat leaving Piel. Its circuitous progress
towards us doesn’t seem to be particularly calm but, when we climb aboard,
introduce ourselves to Steve and start the return trip, it isn’t too bad. Steve
takes a more direct route than his outward journey and, in just under 10
minutes, we’re on Piel. What an amazing place it is. Apart from a ruined
castle, the Ship (including its outbuildings/cottages) is the only thing on the
island. But Steve and Sheila have done extraordinary things with the pub. They
took it over about 8 years ago, having previously both worked on the railways
and being the successful two of about 500 applicants for the job at the Ship.
They’ve developed it into an incredibly welcoming and well appointed
residential pub with a wide selection of beers, wines and spirits, and a very
extensive menu. This initially seems surprising but is explained by the fact
that despite (or perhaps because of) its island location, it’s a very popular
place. For example, Steve and Sheila tell us that they serve around 250 covers
at weekends (not just people from the mainland, but also yachting folk from
along the coast); host not infrequent stag and hen weekends; and have customers
who regularly spend New Year there. It also has the distinction of being the
only pub in the country to be owned by a local authority. We’re the only three
guests tonight and we have a great time. Good food, lots to drink, and Steve
and Sheila are excellent hosts. Has the Ship taken over number one status from
the Harp at Old Radnor? For further comment, see Ben’s eulogy on TripAdvisor
posted on 22 July!
Day 73 – Kents Bank to Flookburgh
To complete
the few miles outstanding from day 72, Ben and Gary leave Euston at 3:30 pm and
John leaves New Street (having re-delivered a car to John Jr in Birmingham) at
4:15. All very unusual. However, rendezvous is duly effected at Preston in time
for the connecting train to Kents Bank where we arrive just before 7 o’clock
and find the now one month old platform shelter to be still in situ. Two
immediate decisions are made. First, despite the deleterious effect on our
average daily mileage, the next couple of hours will count as day 73 rather
than as a mere supplement to day 72. Second, we’ll take the optional diversion
from the official Cumbria Coastal Way to sample the supposed delights of
walking around Humphrey Head. And, as it transpires, any delights have to
remain “supposed” because, after a half mile stroll down the east side of the
Head, we are forced by the tide to retrace our steps back up the shore path and
to complete our evening stroll by following a farm track and road to a junction
just outside Flookburgh, a small village on the outskirts of Cartmel. Our
overnight stop there is the Hope and Anchor pub, where sandwiches have been
prepared for our arrival. Along with the customary liquid refreshment, they are
very welcome and, despite our relatively short period of walking, we don’t
dally in the bar too long before retiring for the night.
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