Day 83 – Flimby to Siloth

After the irritations of yesterday, everything proceeds pretty much to plan today. A good breakfast cooked and served by a man who admits to being a Chelsea supporter (so he’s happy that Spurs were pegged back to one-all by West Brom last night) and Flimby Colin arrives at 8:45 to take us back to yesterday’s finishing point. He also says that he may well be able to take us from Siloth to Carlisle this afternoon but that we should phone to confirm later this morning. We get a bit of beach (or shingle) action as soon as we leave Flimby, but then need to go back up to the coast road in order to get round Maryport harbour and marina. After that….well, it’s low tide and a wide stretch of firm sand extends before us all the way to Allonby. It’s a bright clear day; we think we can make out the Isle of Man to the west; and the views over the Solway Firth to Scotland are pretty special. If it wasn’t for the rather “brisk” northerly breeze in our faces, it would be absolutely perfect. We reach Allonby after a couple of hours, and John pops back to The Ship to collect the phone charger which he’s realised he left there earlier. A phone call to Flimby Colin also confirms his availability at 2:30 this afternoon, and he says that we should meet him outside the tattoo parlour in Siloth which, we have to assume, isn’t a sprawling bustling metropolis! The next section from Allonby to just beyond Mawbray involves occasional diversions from the beach into the dunes and what are apparently called “raised beaches” but, during the final hour or so on the approach to Siloth, we can once again stay on the sands – albeit, with the tide coming in, we need to keep edging progressively closer to the shoreline. When we eventually move up into the dunes, we are greeted by the rather splendid sight of Siloth on Solway Golf Course which we walk around, passing the club house, before entering Siloth itself. And it isn’t sprawling. Essentially, it’s the crossroads of a couple of streets, and the tattoo parlour is on the street leading in from the golf course. It’s 2:20 and, after postcard purchase at a shop on the crossroads, we phone Flimby Colin and ascertain that he’s almost with us. A couple of minutes later, he is. We’ve walked just over 15 miles – without rushing unduly – and have arrived at practically the same time as our transport. Ben takes the front seat for the 50 minute drive, hearing quite a bit about the floods in the area during the course of the journey. We get to Carlisle in good time for our trains and make arrangements with our “chauffeur” to do the return trip when we arrive in Carlisle for our next walk in three weeks time. For now, rather than catch the London train for part of the way, John is going to wait for the slightly later Birmingham train. However, we have enough time to sit and have a can of cider each, conveniently (but somewhat expensively) provided by a Costa Coffee outlet adjacent to “our” platform.  

Day 82 – Workington to Flimby

A major transport problem was bound to happen at some stage, and perhaps we’ve been fortunate that nothing of real significance has happened during the first 81 days. Our plan today is to go by train to Carlisle and then take a cab to Workington in the hope of getting the day’s walking under way around noon so as to reach our overnight stop at The Ship in Allonby by early evening. However, due to an incident at Carnforth involving a maintenance train, all mainline services from the south are terminating at Preston. In addition, earlier delays caused by trackside/signalling problems mean that we’re over an hour late arriving into Preston and have missed another train which would have got us to Lancaster in time to catch the train round the coast to Workington. Replacement bus services are available, but the queues are very long and slow moving. The prospect of waiting for what would probably be a couple of hours to take an unpredictable bus journey to Carlisle and then still need to get to Workington, is unattractive at best. Careful consideration of the limited available alternatives results in us deciding that the best option (i.e. the one with fewest things to go wrong) is to wait for the next coastline train from Preston to Workington – changing at Barrow. Therefore, just after noon, rather than starting our walk from Workington as planned, we are ensconced in a pub outside Preston station having a drink and an early lunch. The coast trains eventually get us to Workington around 4:30, and it then takes another 10 minutes or so to retrace our steps to where we finished on day 81. This leaves us with a maximum of two and a half hours walking, of which the first hour is spent getting round the western and northern sides of Workington before turning north and spending much of the second hour alongside roads or on cycle tracks due to supposed erosion of the coastal route. We had hoped that even this limited amount of walking might get us as far as Maryport, but we eventually finish almost a couple of miles short of there at Flimby. A lady who sees us at a bus stop poring over maps and smart phones informs us that no buses run through to Allonby at this time of day but, with her assistance and following a couple of phone calls to The Ship, we manage to track down a local cab driver (so local that his car emerges from a side street almost opposite the bus stop) who takes us to Allonby and agrees to come and take us back to Flimby in the morning. We arrive at The Ship soon after 7:30 and, because the chef has stayed on to cook supper for us, we eat as soon as we’ve taken our bags to our rooms. Tasty food washed down, unusually, with a couple of beers and followed, less unusually, by a glass of malt.

Day 81 – St Bees to Workington

Comfortable night, and a helpfully early breakfast is provided by Carole who runs the Albert. Just as helpfully and very generously, she also provides – at no extra charge – some refuelling rolls and chocolate for the day. She is somewhat surprised to hear that this will involve us walking around St Bees Head saying that, after all the recent rain, the tracks will be very slippy, but she sees us cheerily on our way. In terms of hospitality and value for money, the Albert has scored very highly. We walk out of town in a light drizzle which soon clears and there’s no evidence of the anticipated slippiness on our climb up to the southerly section of St Bees Head. However, on a slightly downhill – but otherwise perfectly innocent looking – stretch along the top of the Head, Ben comes a cropper twice in the space of a few minutes, with the resultant state of his trousers confirming how muddy the underfoot conditions are. We descend with due care and attention to the stream which leads into Fleswick Bay and which marks the boundary between the South and North Heads. But when we’ve crossed the stream, the slippiness of the very smooth rock on the north bank sloping very gently back down to the water gives slippiness a bad name. The only way we’re able to negotiate it is by slowly sidestepping along the top with our backs to the stream and clinging on (where necessary/possible) to the branches of bushes alongside the rock. Eventually, and without undue incident, we climb to the top of the North Head and continue towards Whitehaven. Although the early morning drizzle has held off, it’s still cloudy and dull, and the views out to sea are not particularly inspiring. Apparently the Isle of Man is out there somewhere. This part of the Cumbria Coastal Way now also forms part of the England Coast Path which is opening in sections with completion due in 2020 (where will we have reached by then?). We descend from St Bees Head, passing old pit chimneys to reach the attractive harbour at Whitehaven. The route out of the town is less attractive, initially alongside the railway and then joining a road outside Parton. Most days involve a navigational glitch, and today’s occurs after we’ve left Parton. Having crossed some fields, we need to go through a short tunnel under a railway bridge to follow a stream and rejoin the road. However, some works are being carried out to the bridge, and temporary barriers have been placed at both ends of the tunnel with sacks of rubble up against them. The ensuing debate on what to do is speedily concluded. John pulls aside the barriers (we replace them afterwards of course) and, scrambling over a few sacks, we walk through the tunnel to be greeted by only mild looks of irritation from the workmen on the other side. For the most part, the remainder of the day’s walk is away from the sea along enclosed tracks and/or alongside the railway through Harrington to Workington. We finish on the southern side of the town so that we can get to Workington station in time for our train to Carlisle. This mission is duly accomplished and we catch our mainline trains home from Carlisle, with John taking the London train as far as Preston, thus enabling us to share a farewell drink or two.

Day 80 – Ravenglass to St Bees

Travel to the first couple of days walking of 2016 gets off to a promising start with the train to Preston arriving on time thus allowing a leisurely stroll at the station to catch the train for Barrow/Ravenglass. However, there’s a slight delay to its departure and, although this puts us less than 10 minutes behind schedule, the supposed “connecting” train at Barrow isn’t held. We decide not to wait 50 minutes for the next one and phone for a cab instead and buy some sandwiches while we wait for it to arrive. The drive around the coast – past familiar places such as Askham and Broughton – takes some time, and we arrive in the car park of the Ratty Arms at Ravenglass around 1:00pm. Given the floods which have hit Cumbria since we were last here – and which continue to affect the area (mainline trains are still not running north of Carlisle) – it’s a pleasant surprise to continue our northward journey in dry weather. Soon after leaving Ravenglass, we have to stop at a railway crossing as the train which we could have waited for at Barrow passes by. This means that throwing some money at Cumbria Colin has saved us about 15 to 20 minutes. Not hugely significant, but it proves to be quite welcome later in the day. The walk to Seascale, through Saltcoats and Drigg, is a mixture initially of fields and enclosed tracks, and then of pebbled beach and sand dunes. A path alongside the railway gets us from Seascale to Sellafield and, whilst getting past the power station there doesn’t present the problems encountered at, by way of example, Hinkley Point and Heysham (bloody Heysham!) a gentle grassy climb out of Sellafield involves a bit of fence scramblage which indicates that we could have strayed slightly from the prescribed route. However, we get back on track in time to reach the path over the railway bridge across the River Eben. On the approach to Braystones, we manage to get some beach action, but the beach quickly becomes less and less sandy, and the stretch from Nethertown towards St Bees is continuous pebbles and stones. It’s now late afternoon, but at least we can see what’s in front of us because, fortunately, the daylight/twilight just about holds until we leave the beach a mile or so south of St Bees. At one point, there’s also a helpfully illuminating beach bonfire outside one of the many huts in the area, but awareness of underfoot conditions would certainly have been more problematic had we arrived 20 minutes later by waiting for the train from Barrow. Torches are required for the half an hour walk along a minor – and relatively traffic free – road into St Bees and to our overnight resting place, the Albert Hotel which is a small pub with a few rooms. In accordance with custom established over previous years, we have a couple of welcoming drinks before getting ready for supper. This isn’t available at the Albert, so we’ve booked a table at the Manor, about 200 yards up the street. Food nothing special (particularly the fish) but, as always, the wine hits the spot. So do the whiskies which are taken on board by way of nightcappage on our return to the Albert.