From Burgh
to the Kielder Forest via Sean’s bridge is about 40
miles. We’ll need a full day to walk through the forest, so John has been
investigating the possibility of fording the Eden before reaching the bridge because the
resultant saving of 8 miles would give us a chance of reaching Kielder at the
end of our walk tomorrow. Given the narrow window of lunchtime low tide on the Eden, the chances of this proving to be practicable are
slim, but they are reduced to non-existent by the late arrival at Birmingham of
John’s morning train from Cheltenham. Although
the train from Euston to Carlisle (with Ben and Gary on board) is still at the
adjacent platform, its doors have been locked by the time John has disembarked
and it disappears northwards leaving John – and about a dozen others who had
unreasonably supposed that there was still a concept of “connecting trains” –
fuming at New Street. Net result is that Ben and Gary arrive at Carlisle
shortly after 11 o’clock and wait an hour – mainly spent breakfasting in the
buffet – for John to arrive on the next train from Birmingham. However, a Colin from the station
gets us to Burgh in about 20 minutes (with arrangements being made for him to
pick us up tomorrow afternoon), and we’re eventually under way just before
12:30. It’s a short walk from Burgh to the Eden via the Edward I monument (marking the
spot where the king died whilst encamped on his way to “hammer the Scots” in
1307) so it isn’t too long before we know for certain that the river level is
now too high for fording. Indeed, it soon transpires that fording probably
wouldn’t have been possible at any time because, after another mile or so and
before the point where we would have tried to cross, the riverside path becomes
impassable and we have to retrace our steps to join a lane going inland towards
Beaumont. Rather irritatingly – particularly for John who has only just got
over his annoyance with Virgin Trains and Network Rail – this means that our
logging stop at the end of 2 hours takes place only a few hundred yards from
where we were at the end of hour 1. The remainder of the route along the south
side of the Eden is through a series of fields
interspersed with country lanes and a short section of the Hadrian’s Wall Path
and, by the time we’ve crossed Sean’s bridge and turned back to the north west, it’s
approaching 4:00pm. The chances of us reaching the Metal
Bridge (and its eponymous pub) on the Carlisle side of the River Esk at a reasonable hour are
rapidly diminishing, so the decision is made to “ease off” and finish today at
Rockcliffe which, conveniently, also has a pub, the non-eponymous Crown and
Thistle. We’ll still have completed almost 15 miles, so similar mileages tomorrow
and on the first day of our next trip will resolve the outstanding Kielder Forest issue – i.e. we’ll go through the
forest on day 2 of the next trip. Sorted. In the meantime the walk to
Rockcliffe is, for the most part, along the raised bank of the Eden and, with the exception of one or two
overgrown fields and a diversion down to the side of the river to bypass some
cattle (to include a proprietorial looking bull) the conditions underfoot are
pretty easy. During the last hour or so, we hear regular rumbles of thunder,
but it seems to be circling us and the heavy rain which we hear later has
fallen in the area holds off until we’ve reached the Crown and Thistle.
Clearly, the decision to stop here was the correct one. Earlier in the day John
announced that, whilst he is no longer on the antibiotics which he was taking
on the last trip, he has been investigating the benefits of a non-alcohol diet
by remaining off the booze. Any such benefits must have proved to be marginal
at best, or easy to ignore, because after one alcohol free lager (a
contradiction in terms?) he rejoins the cider team for his second drink. A cab
has been ordered to take us to our overnight stop, the Hunters Lodge in Gretna, and a sign by the
road over the Esk warns of heavy rain tomorrow. Is our luck on the
meteorological front about to run out? Our driver can’t take us back to
Rockcliffe in the morning but he provides phone numbers of alternative Colins.
Hunters Lodge is not exactly rammed but has comfortable rooms (albeit with slightly
unsatisfactory shower pressure for some) and a satisfying supper during which
it transpires that John’s earlier abandoning of his teetotal experiment was not
a temporary measure.
Day 85 – Kirkbride to Burgh by Sands
Early
breakfast and, courtesy of our host, we’re back outside the Bush Inn by 8:30.
Today we’re aiming to get to Burgh (pronounced “Bruff”) by Sands, via
Drumburgh, and after an initial short walk to Whitrigg, there are three
possible ways of getting to Drumburgh. Either directly east from Whitrigg; or
north across Bowness Common to Bowness-on-Solway and then south east to
Drumburgh; or west to circle around the Cardurnock Peninsula
and back through Bowness. Not surprisingly, in the interests of coastal purity,
we take the third route. This will mean a walk of around 17 miles to Burgh
which is the same sort of distance that we covered yesterday. How strange it is
that, in these circumstances, conversation now occasionally turns to
One-Day-Johnny and One-Trip-Jimmy, our two mythical standard bearers for
mileage comparison purposes, who haven’t featured in our discussions
since….well probably the last time we managed over 15 miles per day. The guide
book informs us that there is much of natural and historic interest on Bowness
Common, but these delights are largely denied to us by following the road for
the dozen or so miles around the peninsula. The only thing which might qualify
as natural interest is the sight of some cows emerging from a farmyard in
Cardurnock and then herding themselves slowly up the road (very slowly in the
case of one seemingly lame animal) in front of us, and some cyclists, to a
field about a quarter of a mile away. And historic interest comes in the form
of the Hadrian’s Wall path which we join where
it begins (or ends) in Bowness. By now, the continuous hard underfoot surfaces
are giving rise to varying degrees of foot discomfort and, shortly after Port
Carlisle, John opts for half an hour of shoreline action rather than continuing
along the road towards Drumburgh. Further relief is afforded by most of the
remaining 4 miles or so to Burgh being along a flat grassy bank which runs
beside the road. So we’re not too weary on arrival at the Greyhound pub just
before 2 o’clock. Sean isn’t picking us up until 2:45, so plenty of time for
drinks, sandwiches, inconclusive discussion with the barmaid about why the pub
is called the Greyhound, and a bit of map study to determine our route to and
beyond Carlisle. After going through Bowness,
some consideration has been given to whether it might be better simply to
follow the Hadrian’s Wall path rather than to
stick as close as possible to the border. The path would certainly be easier to
follow but, in some places, it’s a considerable distance from the border and we
decide that we’ll head to Gretna
and the border. It’s not immediately clear how easily we’ll be able to get onto
a newly built road bridge over the River Eden but, when Sean picks us up, he has
the answer which is very easily. Not only is he able to show us by taking a
short diversion over (and back over) the bridge on our way to Carlisle station
but it also transpires that, before becoming a cab driver, he was a
construction worker and was involved with the building of the bridge. And
whilst he’d be more than happy to drive us back to Burgh on our next trip, he
says that it would be cheaper for us to get a cab at Carlisle
station. Very helpful and a really nice bloke. He gets us to the station today
in good time for our trains and there is no temptation on this occasion to
while away our wait with expensive cans of lager, because the Costa Coffee
outlet is closed. An excellent couple of days and, after the problems
encountered on the last trip, a feeling that we’ve started to make real
progress again.
Day 84 – Silloth to Kirkbride
No transport
problems this morning. Our train arrives a few minutes late at Carlisle, but Flimby Colin’s son is there to drive us to
Siloth, to which many apologies because it isn’t the one horse/crossroads town
previously described. Residentially at least it’s quite extensive, but the few
commercial outlets are all based around said crossroads where we arrive just
before noon. The first 90 minutes or so of today’s walk is north east to Grune
Point and then back round the headland to Skinburness. This follows the
coastline along a concrete seafront promenade and a couple of tracks, and we
know that the vast majority of these two days will be spent on roads and
pavements. However, on leaving Skinburness, we’re able to leave the road and
cover the next 6 miles or so towards Abbey
Town by crossing Calvo
Marsh. We quickly realise why the guide book says that this should not be
attempted in misty conditions or at high tide. Apart from the occasional farm
building, the marsh is pretty featureless, the waymarking is sporadic at best,
and there are frequent ditches which it’s possible to get over when the tide is
out, but which presumably become creeks when it comes in. And when we’re not
crossing ditches, or scanning the horizon for waymarking and stopping to check
on the logger that we’re going the right way, the underfoot conditions are
essentially an expanse of tussocks, so it’s not the most comfortable or
enjoyable couple of hours. Still, it’s taken us off the road and closer to the
sea, and the weather’s clear and warm; so mustn’t grumble. We’re back on the
road for the stretch from Abbey Town to Newton Arlosh, but the next and final
section is through a series of fields and past a couple of large World War II
aircraft hangars to reach a lane into Kirkbride and the welcoming sight of the
Bush Inn. We’re staying a few miles away at Wheyrigg and, while Ben and Gary have a refreshing
cider, John (who is on antibiotics and therefore off alcohol) tries to order a
cab. This takes some time – due just as much to difficulty in getting a phone
signal as the scarcity of Colins in the area – and involves much discussion
with a man at the bar who runs a B&B in Bowness, and speaking to someone in
Wigton who is only prepared to do the job for the princely sum of £40. However,
eventually, somebody more accommodating called Sean is found who can pick us up
in 20 minutes. Shame…that means a second cider for Ben and Gary. We arrive at
Wheyrigg around 7 o’clock for a cost of only £15 and, although Sean can’t do
the return journey tomorrow morning due to a Manchester
Airport booking, he says that he will
be able to pick us up tomorrow afternoon and take us to Carlisle
station. Pre-supper showers at Wheyrigg prove to be variable, but food and
drink is more than acceptable and, having been unable to find us a cab for
tomorrow morning, our host kindly offers to drive us to Kirkbride himself.
Result.
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.
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