Blog England Trek 2008 2009

England Trek 2008 2009. Kim and Martin’s amble from Gretna Green to Land’s End. No our England walk was not in December 2008 and January 2009 despite the title. We set off from Gretna Green with the intention of getting to Lands End on the 30th of September 2008. However we didn’t reach Lands End in 2008 we only got as far as the English Channel in the county of Dorset 30days later. The final leg to Lands End had to wait until 2009 so I now feel free to write the blog. The most southerly Scottish border town is Gretna Green which I suppose is why the eloping English couples made it their preferred marriage spot. I never did really understand why people ran away to Gretna Green so this was an opportunity to find out, here is the answer. In the 18th Century marriage laws were very relaxed. It was simply a matter of declaring your wish to be recognized as husband and wife, and you were married by law. Members of the English aristocracy were not happy with this haphazard arrangement and feared their daughters would make unsuitable arrangements with men of whom they did not approve. Gretna's famous runaway marriages began in 1753 when an Act of Parliament, Lord Hardwicke's Marriage Act, was passed in England, which stated that if both parties to a marriage were not at least 21 years old, then consent to the marriage had to be given by the parents. This Act did not apply in Scotland, where it was possible for boys to get married at 14 and girls at 12 years old with

or without parental consent. Since 1929 both parties have had to be at least 16 years old but there is still no consent needed. In England and Wales the ages are now 16 with consent and 18 without. (Thank you Wikipedia) We set off from Gretna in the rain and headed for the only bridge over the river Esk, the A74 road bridge. Unfortunatly there were major road imporvements taking place to turn the final section the old A74 into motorway. The work site was closed to all public accees so we pushed on until we found a someone with an official looking yellow jacket. Our plight seemed to strike a cord and he arranged for the site transport vehicle to come and escort us over the bridge. So only one hour into our trek we were cheating by being driven 500metres over the Esk. Back on foot we trudged on to Carlisle where the rain eased, the castle is spectacular. That evening we made it to Dalston, about 24km not bad for day one. The next day we made it to Greystoke where I seem to remember Tarzan was born, too tired to find out if this was the ‘real’ Greystoke. Greystoke was on the northern most edge of the Lake District and the next day we made it through Pooley Bridge over Askham Fell and on to Haweswater.

Haweswater is really a reservoir created in the late 1920s to provide water for Manchester. The only building on the banks is the Haweswater hotel which was in the middle of a full renovation; fortunately they welcomed us in among the builders and even managed to rustle up some Lasagne. A bright cold start the next morning and up over Gatescarth pass

Then down Longsleddale to a beautiful riverside picnic spot. Pity we didn’t have picnic.

We were in Kendal by evening where Kim tracked down an excellent Indian restaurant. It was a bit of a surprise and a disappointment that it is possible to walk through the Lake District in 2 days. The wind and rain the following day was so bad we only made it 5Km before having to admit defeat. Kirby Lonsdale turns out to be worth a visit but unfortunately we aren’t staying there.

On the way into Settle we pass through the village of Giggleswick which has to be mentioned if only for it’s name. The village boasts a very posh private school of Hogwartian splendour. The pupils are very posh and look down their noses at our distinctly un-cool rain gear. We spend a night in Barnoldswick which doesn’t have much charm but the people are very welcoming, then on to Hebden Bridge, via Trawden and Coldwell Reservoirs. The Old Pack Horse road to Hebden was closed to traffic due to a land slide so we had the road to ourselves.

Hebden is a trendy little outpost in the Yorkshire Pennines, once a heavily industrialised woollen mill town is now an arty place with trendy cafes and galleries. It seems that in the 60s and 70s when the woollen mills closed the town was in dire straits economically, the town attracted hippies and artists many of whom appear still to live in boats on the canal. Later gentrification in the 80s and 90s has preserved many of the town’s unique architecture and brought trendy pubs and coffee bars, without losing arty feel. On day 10 set off down the canal towards our next target of Marsden

After a pleasant few kilometres on the canal and a great gastro pub lunch at Millbank We climb up on to Saddleworth road and cross the impressively busy M62 motorway which joins Leeds to Manchester and Liverpool. High above the hurrying traffic exposed to the elements like this it seems like you are in another time period glimpsing the 21st century below. We pick up the Kirklees way to cross Slaithwaite moor. We had noticed early on that the open fields and moors were exceptionally wet. Normally even in England late summer sees the fields begin to dry, this year we were not seeing too much rain during our walk but everyone told us that the summer had been a deluge. Up here on the moor this really came home with knee deep bogs and virtually no hard ground. These conditions slowed us down to a 2km per hr. crawl. We usually calculate our speed at 4km per hr average, so the current rate meant everything was going to take twice as long. We had suspected this was going to be a problem earlier but the moor brought the problem clearly into focus. Normally we like to stay as far away from roads as possible but the conditions under foot looked like navigating via the back roads may be necessary just to keep our speed up. I had hoped to pick up the Pennine Way here to take us all the way to Derbyshire but the Way is notoriously wet even in the best of summers as it follows the moorland spine of the Pennines, it may be time to rethink. The next day we pick up the Pennine bridle path at Diggle, this runs to the west of the Pennines and proves to be slightly drier, but future route planning leans towards back roads, canal paths and other dry surfaces. Staley Bridge deserves a mention if only because it is the antithesis of Hebdon Bridge. The derelict mills are testament to a similar history but Staley Bridge didn’t have an arty phase followed by gentrification, it’s stuck in the derelict past. Our friends Martin & Sue plus pooches have promise to come and see us today and I call Martin to say we will be on the canal path between Whaley Bridge and Furness Vale. With a finesse that only Martin & Sue could deliver they have set up a picnic table complete with napkins and silver to welcome us. Unfortunately the rain forces us into the back of Martin’s white van where the table is re-laid in all it’s glory.

After a splendid lunch Sue and the dogs accompany us to Whaley Bridge where we say our goodbyes. Despite the worsening weather we manage to pick up the old road (really a track) over the moors to Buxton, where Kim promptly sniffs out another Indian Restaurant. Out of Buxton in beautiful weather we pick up the High Peak Trail, an old mineral railway now a walking and cycle route with excellent dry limestone surface. The night at Biggin Hall hotel was like an episode of ‘Faulty Towers’; parts of England are still in the 1940s!

Despite the fact that it is mid October there are new born lambs in the fields. Global Warming?

Back to the trail for another fast day all the way to Belper; my home town. We were going to stay with Martin and Sue (north of Belper), but the dry surface route planning had increased our speed and were making such good progress that we pushed on to my brother’s house in Belper where Martin picked us up and taxied us to his house. On the evening of day14 Martin and Sue had arranged a Pub dinner with many of our old running club friends. The next day Martin kindly ferried us back to my brother’s house, from here we set off to Etwall. My brother Andrew having agreed to pick us up there this evening. All this to-ing and fro-ing sounds a bit silly but we were ahead of our schedule by two days and loathed to lose any ground. So a big Thank you to Martin and Andrew for their taxi services and hospitality. Day 16 was a pleasant rest day at Andrew and Linda’s house with time to catch up on e-mail and wash some clothes.

Next Day Andrew dutifully drove us to Etwall where we set off for Eggington for tea with Aunt Hilary then on to the splendidly named ‘Appleby Magna’ the larger of the Appleby’s the other being ‘Parva’. The following day we make it to Church End where another Andrew Orpe arrived by car to take us back to their place near Derby.

Now I know this is all beginning to sound like we are being driven all over the country, so let me explain. We had a rough plan to stay with Martin and Sue, then Andrew and Linda then Andrew and Vicky as they were roughly north to south of each other. Our decision to keep to the faster surface meant we arrived in Belper two days early and Andrew and Vicky were on holiday until we were well past Derby. Andrew (Orpe) was happy to come and pick us up and drive back to their place and drop us back at our finishing spot the next day, not just one day but twice, so thanks to Andrew for the exceptional taxiing and Vicky for putting up with us. The blackberries were ripening nicely and provided tasty snacks along the way.

Day 20 saw us on canal path (Grand Union and then Stratford Canal) all the way to Stratford upon Avon, but a late start meant we arrived in the dark so we didn’t get to the theatre.

A good river route and cycle path out of Stratford helps us get to Broadway in the heart of the Cotswolds just before nightfall pretty wet due the rain that started mid afternoon. With modern synthetic clothing it’s amazing how quickly things will dry, but arriving wet still feels miserable. I still feel fortunate not to be wearing those cotton t shirts and woollen socks we used to have only a few years ago.

Next morning the rain has cleared and the Cotswolds are as beautiful as I have ever seen them. South of Broadway we climb up through Snowshill to a high plateau where the pub at Kineton offers a welcome cheese sandwich. We seem to be in a bit of the Cotswolds that doesn’t get many tourists, but the cheese sandwich is all the better for that. We hadn’t found any accommodation for this evening other than the ‘hotel’ marked on our 1:50000 map, so we head for that. Unfortunately they started to knock the hotel down about 12 months ago. So we head for the nearest pub. Perhaps they will have rooms or know a B&B. On of the regulars (Nigel) has a friend with a B&B who will be happy to come and collect us, so it’s bangers and mash at the pub and off to Nigel’s friend’s B&B later. John our new host is pleased to show us how the B&B over looks Cheltenham race course, he offers to take us back to the pub but we decline accepting a 4km detour as part of the punishment for not booking accommodation in advance. Mainly on quiet back roads we get to Cirencester which was Corinium under Roman rule and claims to be the capital of the Cotswolds. The town is very interesting but the Corinium hotel hasn’t changed much since the time of the Caesars, fortunately another Indian restaurant keeps Kim happy despite the accommodation. On road all the next day to Malmesbury, the Duck pub in Ewen deserves a mention, as does the Wheatsheaf at Oaksey where a Jaime Oliver look and sound-alike presided over good food. The next day on to Bath by picking up the Fosse way the old (and very straight) Roman road; which is part track part road but leads straight to our target arriving to late to see much town. The next morning was clear and bright and we sacrifice good walking time to have a wander round Bath centre, it is a splendid city. It was about this point we both had to admit that our dry (hard) surface route strategy had paid off as far as speed was concerned but we were developing niggling injuries to knees and ankles from the hard surface. Perhaps Land’s End would have to wait. South of Bath was unremarkable (like many old coal mining areas) as we passed through Midsomer Norton and Shepton Mallet both of which don’t inspire many words. We had already made the decision to head due south to the coast of Dorset near Lyme Regis and leave Lands End until next year. It’s interesting what happens on long walks a sort of mood attaches it’s self to the whole experience and it’s difficult to change. Despite the fact that we had made good progress we knew that our ‘dry hard surface strategy’ had taken us away from some of the most attractive countryside

and caused some wear and tear injuries. The mood was not good and this was a major factor in the decision to head to the south coast, where we could claim a minor victory and delay Land’s End until 2009. We arranged to meet up with more friends in Yeovil, Martin Carolyn and Alex. Carolyn and son Alex were in the area but Martin drove over from Reading (and back the same night) which made us feel very honoured. After saying our goodbyes to Carolyn and Alex we set off in clear bright weather to Bridport. By mid afternoon it was raining heavily and we arrived in Bridport in the dark, fortunately Kim sniffed out another Indian restaurant so all was forgiven. The next day we trotted the 5 or so km to the sea at West Bay, dipped our toes in the Channel and jumped on the first bus out of there.

We had not planned our route back to France but things fitted together remarkably well, our bus stopped at Axminster train station where there was a train to London, it was about 11:00am and we thought we had a chance of making the last Easy Jet flight from Gatwick to Geneva, so we grabbed the train, after a few touch and go moments we made the final stretch by taxi and arrived in time to buy tickets to Geneva. Fast forward to April 2009 and it’s time to finish what we started. On the 15th of April we take EJ to Bournemouth a short taxi ride to Poole bus station and a long interesting bus trip to West Bay; we walked to Bridport just to warm up before starting the costal path westwards the next day. The South West Costal path is a spectacular long distance walk that covers 1,000km (600miles) round the coasts of Dorset, Devon, Cornwall and Somerset. For more information check out. http://www.southwestcoastpath.com/ Our plan was not to stick religiously to the coastal path but to use it for most of our journey to Land’s End. Where the coastal path offered a major detour (Torbay to Salcombe for instance) we would plan our own cross country route. Day one the 16th of April was dry and cool with little sign of the sun. Excellent walking weather, we set off for a short (16km) warm up day to Lyme Regis. This section of the path is beautiful and climbs to the highest point on the whole walk, ‘Golden Cap’ at 191 metres above sea level.

You quickly realise on the coastal path that any stream or river means a trip down to sea level and then back up again. This can be quite frustrating but the views usually make up for it. Lyme Regis is the unofficial capital of the ‘Jurassic Coast’, named after the age of the geology and the abundance of fossils. It’s a quaint little town worth more time than our fleeting visit. True to form Kim sniffs out an Indian restaurant.

Day 2 takes us out of Lyme Regis and into the much written about under cliffs. I had not understood that the cliff falls on this coast are not so much due to sea erosion but caused by a sliding of softer more recent strata on top over harder older strata below. This can be provoked by heavy rain that drains through the layers and lubricates the critical shearing strata. This type of slide produces a sort of long trough between land and sea as well as the tops of the sea side cliffs cascading into the ocean.

The path along the under cliffs is in one of these troughs that formed after a slide about 150years ago. The area is now heavily wooded and feels like the Jurassic period still exists today. Emerging from the under cliffs prehistoric world we arrive at Seaton which is dreadful and makes you want to go straight back to prehistory. Fortunately the next stop only 2km further on is Beer which it’s the complete antithesis of Seaton. Another village worth more time than we had to spare; but we had to push on to Branscombe The Masons Arms provides good accommodation and good food. Despite the rain all night the morning starts dry and promises even better weather for our leg to Budleigh Salterton. (It seems the local monks used to extract salt from sea water, hence ‘Salterton’ I’ve no idea where the Budleigh bit comes from!) The path today is perfect, lots of up and down but fantastic views and no caravans. We learn that the term ‘combe’ means a valley leading to the sea, hence so many ‘combe’ town names. Learning the meaning doesn’t make trudging down the combe and back out again any easier! Sidmouth is interesting and bustling with Saturday shoppers. After Sidmouth the route is probably one of the most attractive parts of the path so far. With a combination of attractive villages,

and spectacular coastal views.

Budleigh S is not very interesting, but Kim spots an Indian restaurant so all is forgiven. The B&B Kim had tracked down (Heath Close) was very good but it is 3km out of town to the west. Fortunately owner Barry drives us into town so we can have a curry. I hadn’t realised this until I started writing but it seems like this whole walk has been a search for curry. Three factors combine to explain this fact. First Kim has to have a daily fix of spice; this involves adding chilly pepper to everything or finding an Indian restaurant. Second, every town in England has an Indian restaurant and it probably serves the best food in town. Third, there are no Indian restaurants near us in France so we have to ‘top up’ when there is an abundance. The B&B is virtually on the coastal path so the next morning is an easy start already on high ground; we are heading for Exmouth then Teignmouth. The route is attractive but the proximity to the large towns seems to attract caravan parks which are a blot on an otherwise beautiful landscape. We are taking the Starcross ferry to cross the river Exe and arrive 45minutes before the next ferry. Plenty of time for a bite to eat. On the way into Exmouth we see a strange version of an English tradition, ‘the bathing hut’. These little sheds on the beach started life back in Victorian times as sheds on wheels, which enabled the ladies to change and enter the sea without anyone seeing them. They evolved to permanent sheds (often brightly coloured), on the landward edge of the beach which people would use as a seaside home from home. In Exmouth they appear to have been banished from the beach side to the other side of the coast road. There is perhaps a distant connection with the sea somewhat interrupted by the roar of passing traffic but their inhabitants didn’t seem to mind. Very strange!

The ferry journey to Starcross is pleasant but the ferry takes us about 2km north of our starting point, on foot this can be frustrating because you know you have 2km extra to make up. The West side of the Exe is dreadful, one large caravan park, avoid it at all costs. We arrive in Teignmouth mid afternoon on Sunday, we had arranged to stay with friends Wendy and Phil in Abbotskerswell this evening and were still 13km away so we decided to take a taxi and finish Teignmouth to Abbotskerswell on Monday. On arriving in the village we found no one home and no signal on the mobile phone. Brightly coloured posters announced the village treasure hunt and cream teas starting at the village hall. So we set off for teas and treasure. The treasure hunt took us right past Wendy and Phil’s house just as they arrived, daughter Abby accompanied us on the last section of the treasure hunt and proved much more observant than we had been. Dinner at the local pub provided plenty of time to catch up with the Grierson house renovation and new business ventures. That evening we hatched plan to walk back to Teignmouth from Abbotskerswell and take the train back to Newton Abbot only 3km away. To assist us in this mission the Grierson’s dog Chester volunteered his services. The walk was interesting following the estuary of the river Teign which meant Chester was in the water most of the time but even that didn’t tire him out. He behaved well on his first train journey home and we arrived in plenty of time to shower ourselves and Chester before his family returned to see the state he was in.

Other old friends of mine Don and Eileen Fice lived about 4km away in Denbury and I managed to get over there to see them too. We had already committed to the inland route from Teignmouth to Plymouth so we set of the next day to Ermington on the south edge of Dartmoor. I had been a bit remiss about getting new maps and we ran off the edge of our last map at Ugborough, we managed to guess the route to Ermington and arrived to find a hidden gem of a hotel. ‘The Plantation House Hotel’; in the middle of nowhere, but worth a detour. The hotel had the local walking map and made copies of our route to Plymouth. There is a well marked trail called the Plym-Erm trail which takes us through beautiful countryside to Plymouth. Ermington deserves another mention for its twisted church spire. Chesterfield, a town near my hometown makes a big thing of it’s twisted spire but the Ermington church proves it is not unique.

Plymouth received a pounding from the Luftwaffe during the second war and that is a pretty good excuse for being such a dreadful place.

Can’t wait to get to the Cremyll ferry, which will whisk us away to the Mount Edgcombe Country Park, thank goodness Plymouth dwellers have this retreat. On the slipway to the Ferry swans have chosen a very strange place to nest.

The Ferry is so cute should be a character in a children’s book. ‘Fanny the Ferry’

The route to Looe was unremarkable with some strange little villages. Millandreath is worth a mention for it’s awfulness. Someone must have had the bright idea to ruin this attractive ‘combe’ by building at least a 100 prefabricated holiday homes (sort of fixed caravans) and an entertainment

centre (probably in the 1960’s by the look of the architecture). The entertainment centre was boarded up but a few ‘residents’ clung on to the prefabs. What was the planning department thinking?

Just a short walk away form this blot are East and West Looe which are the antithesis of Millandreath. An old fishing village, still fishing but also cooking and painting by the looks of the shop fronts. The B&B here is fantastic, the room is nothing special but the couple who run it can’t do enough to help and the breakfast is voted ‘best in trip’. (Trehaven Manor Hotel, sounds a bit posh but it isn’t ) The next morning we set off in bright sunshine to Fowey (pron. Foy) the café at Talland Bay is worth a stop and Polperro is a picture perfect fishing village.

From Poltruan we take the Ferry to Fowey which looks well worth a visit. Unfortunately or hotel is high on the west side of the village so we have a quick look round and set off for the hotel.

The next morning brings heavy rain so we take advantage of our high ground and set of due west. Someone has decorated a bus stop in the village outskirts that just has to be mentioned. It looks better than some of the beach huts we have seen, perhaps someone lives there?

The rain brought high winds too so we detour in land to avoid being blown off the cliffs. Charlestown harbour has some tall ships in dock but the weather is so bad we don’t feel like an extended visit.

Mevagissey looks like it may be worth a visit but the rain puts a damper on any full length tour. Fortunately the next day brings better weather and less wind, we set off for Portscatho via Port Mellon and then inland to Veryan. This inland short cut paid more dividends than simply shorter

distance. The village of Veryan is chocolate box and postcard rolled into one and the pub had an excellent ham sandwich.

We pick up the coast again to get to our target hotel ‘The Driftwood’ at Rosevine near Portscatho. Voted the ‘best hotel in trip’! Well worth a special visit. The following day we set off towards Falmouth, there were two ferries involved which supposedly operate all day. The first ferry runs from nowhere to St Mawes (the nearest village to nowhere is Bohortha) we arrived at the sea weed covered rocks where the ferry docks and see a sign saying ‘this way to low tide dock’. We soon meet of the crew coming towards us and he asks ‘are you catching the ferry’. ‘Hope so’ we reply. ‘Glad I caught you the tides are so low this is our last trip of the day’ Phew!

St Mawes is pleasant but we didn’t explore as the rain had started again. From St Mawes the next ferry takes travellers to Falmouth.

Falmouth looked like it was well worth a visit and we should have stayed there but it was only 2:00pm and we thought we could make our third ferry of the day at Helford Passage so we only stopped for maps and pushed on. We knew we were going to cut off the Lizard peninsula by going over land but had not planned the actual route yet. Our trip to Helford in worsening weather took so long we stopped at the very strange ‘Budock Vean’ Hotel north of Helford. Very strange indeed. I’m sure it was a retirement home. They insisted on a jacket for dinner, but as I clearly didn’t have one they allowed us to dine in a sort of ante room for the badly dressed. Having decided on our overland route we head straight for Helston via the Helford river estuary, which is very pleasant. Helston is a nice market town which would make a good base camp for a circular walk of the lizard coast. I was very excited about arriving in Marazion, having never seen St Michael’s mount. The mount was spectacular as it reflected the sunset in the west.

Unfortunately Marazion is not spectacular. It’s amazing that such a beautiful island is linked to such a dismal village. Next day the rain’s back and we are targeting Mousehole via Penzance. This part of the coastal path is not worth a mention and although Penzance looked like it may warrant a visit the rain was so bad we just holed up in a café to dry out a little. We have been in telephone contact with Andrew and Vicky the same friends who taxied us about near Derby and they are on their way to Mousehole. Vicky had just retired and they are celebrating with us at Mousehole this evening. The Coast Guard Hotel is very pleasant and we have a chance to investigate Mousehole before A&V arrive. The celebration dinner at the ‘Cornish Range’ is excellent.

The next day sees us off in perfect weather for an overland dash to Land’s End where A&V will be waiting with the engine running! I’d read a lot about what has happened to Land’s End, spoiled by theme park etc. but it seems to have been handled very well. All the original stuff is still there, the theme park bit is set well back from the coast and there are no fun fair type rides.

We spent the next celebration evening back in St Mawes (one of A&V’s favourites) and then Andrew and Vicky taxied us (again) to Luton airport for a flight to Geneva. A big thank you to Andrew and Vicky who get ‘best taxi and retirement celebration’ award. Look out for the next instalment, North Italy!