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.
Day 79 Bootle to Ravenglass
The train times meant that we had a relaxed start to the
day. After an excellent “Cumbrian” breakfast, we boarded the 0913 getting back
on the route at 0946. We were quickly joined a lively sheep dog, that stayed
with us for over an hour. Eventually we called the owner from the number on the
dog’s collar and the dog was collected just before we had yet again to go
off-piste on account of the high tide covering the road. This detour, our late
start and the wet conditions under foot, meant that we made slow progress and we
could do no more than get back to the Ratty Arms just in time for a sandwich,
which John had taken the precaution of ordering by phone when it looked like we
would arrive after the chef had left. This meant that we had now been in the
Ratty on three separate occasions and walked past it a fourth time – another
record. Another rather feeble trip of just over 10 miles meant that over the
two days we had let 15 mile Johnny progress from 4 miles behind to 6 miles
ahead. The trains behaved themselves on the way home
Postscript – the next day we heard the sad news that Gary’s mother died on
Tuesday night
Day 78 Haverigg to Bootle
The trip had a rocky start when Ben’s newly acquired
reliance on modern technology, the mobile phone, proved misplaced in that he
either failed to set the alarm properly or it rang too quietly for his ageing
ears. However awakening at 0553 in Putney, he managed to get the 0640 from
Euston with some minutes to spare. John joined the train at Birmingham without crisis, but then matters
deteriorated. The train slowed sufficiently for the team to see the connection
to the West Coast line pulling out from Preston
as they arrived. In the faint hope that the express might overtake the branch
line train on the way to Lancaster,
the team stayed on board, but to no avail. Spirits were restored by excellent
coffee in the Lancaster
station buffet whilst waiting an hour for the next train.
Unfortunately as we got under way, Gary
then had sad news that his mother was very poorly and after some consideration
decided that he had better not disembark at Millom but carry on to Carlisle and return home to be on hand. So it was the duo
of Ben and John who were forlornly ringing for cabs in the teeming rain at
Millom to get a taxi to Haverigg. Fortunately after only a short wait, Julie of
Julie’s cabs arrived and brightened our mood with talk of the weather blowing
through. Finally at 1315 the duo got under way into some of the wettest
windiest weather we have experienced. We made surprisingly good speed partly
because we eschewed some of our normal brief breaks on the hour to record
progress given that the log book would have suffered considerably from the
elements. The sea was dramatic, crashing in to the beach as we walked along
fuelled by the south westerly which was fortunately mostly at our backs or at
least our side. Over the course of the day we met no other walkers which may be
a first – certainly unusual. In spite of our good progress, our late departure
and the early darkness exacerbated by the gloomy weather meant we had to call
it a day near Bootle station after less than
10 miles. Northern Rail turned up on time and we made the short trip to
Ravenglass. Gary had reported that the Ratty Arms seemed deserted at lunch
time, but the hostelry located right on the station, possibly the former ticket
office, opened as we arrived and we had an agreeable pint by the fire drying
our feet and warming up. Then we walked the short distance to the Rosegarth
B&B for excellent showers before back to the Ratty for supper. An extensive
selection of malts resulted in two rounds of stickies before bed.
Day 77 – Broughton-in-Furness to Haverigg
A comfortable and
quiet night and good breakfast before an 8:30 start to the day’s walking.
Broughton is a very attractive, traditional market town – its appearance no
doubt enhanced by a bright and crisp morning. Our aim of getting to Silecroft
in time for an early afternoon train might prove to be a bit optimistic,
particularly with almost an extra mile to walk from the coast to Silecroft
station but, subject to any problems crossing Millom Marsh, we don’t anticipate
too many difficulties with the terrain. Reflecting the end of yesterday’s walk,
the first mile or so today is alongside roads, but we then go through a field
to cross the Duddon (at long last) at its eponymous bridge, and climb up to
woodland paths above the A595 running along the northerly bank of the estuary.
On a couple of occasions, we’re not sure that we’ve followed the prescribed
route through the woods. Not a major problem, but even a small diversion could
affect our prospects of getting to Silecroft. Still, at least when we come back
to and cross the main road and get beyond Lady Hall and Green Road station, we
find that the route across Millom Marsh is perfectly straightforward along a
raised embankment. At this stage, Kirby is on the opposite bank of the river,
and there is some discussion of whether we might have stayed there yesterday
evening and walked across the estuary at low tide this morning. It might have
improved our chances of getting to Silecroft which become increasingly “cuspy”
as we try to keep as close to the coast as possible around Millom resulting, as
it transpires, in one short retracing of steps and two bits of fence climbing.
By the time we’ve reached Hodbarrow Point, it seems that we’ve all silently
accepted we won’t reach our planned destination, because our pace has slowed,
we stop at the iron lighthouse by the lake at Hodbarrow Hollow to spend some
time reading the signs about its history, and (perhaps most significantly)
we’ve ascertained that there’s a pub at Haverigg from which it’s not too long a
walk back to Millom station. At the bridge over the River Lazy with the pub on
the other side, we have a desultory conversation about whether we should keep
going, but it’s just for form’s sake. There was never any doubt. Into the pub
for some lunch and a couple of pints, and it’s not then a rush to get to Millom
station in time for the 2:50 train to Lancaster
Day 76 – Barrow-in-Furness to Broughton-in-Furness
We revert to
the traditional morning timing for our outbound trip to Cumbria, arrive on
schedule, and are back by the pedestrian bridge (submerged) shortly before
midday. The route out of Barrow takes us along largely deserted streets and, as
such, is somewhat reminiscent of the equally unremarkable – and rather tired
looking – outskirts of Blackpool. But within an hour, a narrow track takes us
from the road in Ormsgill back down to the coast, from where there are good
views back over to the north end of Walney Island. However, these are as
nothing compared with what we see when we’ve walked round the tidal bay of
Scarth Bite and then Lowsy Point. The vista along the Duddon Estuary towards
the Scafells in the distance is described by the Coastal Way guide book as
“stupendous”, and this is no overstatement. The sands stretch out before us in
the sunshine, the indications from the guide book, John’s GPS logger and Ben’s
OS map are that the route along the beach is not dependant on tide timetables,
and we look forward to a few hours of relaxed and scenic walking towards Askam
and beyond. How hopes can be dashed! Things remain relaxed and scenic for the
45 minutes or so that it takes us to reach Roanhead. This is apparently where
“Barrow goes to the seaside”. It’s also where an abnormally high tide prevents
us from getting round a rocky headland – and because our various maps and books
all assume that it’s always possible to continue along the foreshore, there are
no alternative routes which don’t involve very considerable diversions. It is
far from easy to summarise the events of the next hour, but they include a
steep – and heavily wooded – grassy bank up to a barbed wire fence which has to
be negotiated to reach a field; a brief period of respite crossing the field
and walking a short distance along a lane before heeding the warning of
“Private Property” and, more significantly, “Bull in Field”, and diverting down
a track to a woodland pool; realising that this is in fact the only track
to/from the pool; and finally thrashing our way through bracken which is often
at shoulder height (for John and Gary – Ben almost disappears on a couple of
occasions) to get back to the beach on the other side of the rocky headland.
During the course of this “adventure”, John loses his watch and, when we’re
beyond the point of no return in the
bracken, and still some way from
the beach, we learn from the logger that our completely covered legs and feet
have been walking over an area which contains several disused mine shafts!
Might it have been better simply to sit on the beach and wait for the tide to
recede??? It has to be said that all of this excitement seems to have a
somewhat sobering effect on the rest of the day. Certainly, the scenery doesn’t
look quite as spectacular as it did earlier, and occasional small problems with
underfoot conditions and consequent minor diversions (particularly crossing and
re-crossing the railway line between Askam and Kirby-in-Furness) create
slightly more irritation than they would otherwise merit. As a consequence,
after getting through Kirby and reaching the railway station at Foxfield, the
unanimous decision is speedily reached that we should complete the remaining
couple of miles to Broughton-in-Furness by roadside footpaths rather than risk
further difficulties arising on a slightly more direct route through woods,
fields and farms. We arrive in Broughton around 6:00 pm and any lingering
“sobering effect” completely disappears when we enter the extremely welcoming
and convivial bar of our overnight stop, the Manor Arms. During the course of
our on arrival couple of pints, we are almost tempted to accept the invitation
to participate in the quiz night which is due to start later in the evening but
decide that, after freshening up, we should honour our booking for supper at
the Black Cock Inn (a couple of hundred yards away) instead. Good food – and red wine – and also very good timing because we
arrive back at the Manor Arms during an extended interval of the quiz thus
affording the time for a couple of stickies to be taken on board and to get to
our rooms before the resumption of the local hostilities.
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