Weather: Fine but cloudy.
Distance:
25 km (15.5 miles) Total Distance: 3247 miles
At 7.30am I was the last person having breakfast such was the
nature of the B&B. I drove to
Harrington and left the car near the station.
I got a little lost in the first few hundred yards but managed
eventually to find the path up the hill, and onto a farm track. This led to a small quarry Harringtom Parks
which looked like it was so small it could have been a family type venture or
just a massive hole at the bottom of the garden.
I noticed that the footpath had been diverted
at one stage just a month previous and I was hopeful that I could go all the
way to Whitehaven without going on the road but there still obviously remained
one farmer who forced the path inland, onto the road for a mile and into Lowca,
a village who’s football club had been awarded lottery money to build a large
club house that I walked past down to the sea.
I found myself stranded on top of a grassy cliff with a sewage works
down blow blocking my way into Whitehaven.
I found a way down and under the railway just before and onto the beach, a good place for elevenses I thought.
I then picked up a good path into Whitehaven on the inside of the
railway. A teenage cyclist passed me, or should I say almost did because no sooner was he alongside than his chain
broke. I couldn’t think of anything
practical to do so shared his curses and left him to it. He passed me a while
later scooting it into Whitehaven.
I stopped at the station to get confirmation that the trains
were not running tomorrow because of a strike. Just my luck. A place with a
good train service all along the coast and a strike taking place. The elderly people in front of me who has
planned a holiday by train were less then pleased I must say! Next stop was WH Smiths to buy a map and then a bank to get some cash – that’s how expensive maps are these days! It was then a walk around the pleasant harbour of Whitehaven. .
The next couple of hours was excellent walking around St
Bees Head. It was just like being back
in Pembrokshire again. First I had to walk along the cliff top and stare down
to the effluent outfall of Albright & Wilson detergent factory spewing its
frothy effluent into the sea. I later
heard it was earmarked for closure which probably gave them the excuse for not
doing anything to clean it up at present.
Up on the cliffs was great, past the lighthouse which marked the end of
the coast to coast walk, down and up a valley, and then around the corner and a
drop into St Bees. I was thirsty by this
time and was relieved to find the large café on the front so stopped for a
coffee and caramel square. I had
expected a warm welcome and to be confused with someone who had just completed
the Coast to Coat, asked to sign a book, have my picture take but no, not even a
smile!
It was too early to stop so I took to the coast again, over
a golf course then back to the beach again and a strange stretch past what
could best be described as a series of shacks – all different, mostly falling
down. These continued on and off all the
way to the end of the walk at Braystones.
Just before there I had some scrambling over rocks to do and got chatting
to a man with 2 dogs which was a little weird as I was sat down between
two rocks and his salivating alsation Sheba was on top of a rock level with my
face. I think however we were both a tired as each other and posed no threat
to each other.
Braystones Station was where I decided to stop walking for the day. What a strange place. People who owned
the shacks on the beach had to open gates to cross the railway. I was somewhat early for the train as I
discovered when I looked at the timetable – not wishing to look at it any
earlier otherwise I would have no doubt rushed the last bit. I took a short walk up the road to suss out
where to park the car the following day and was just feeling like I needed the
toilet when I passed a caravan site with a toilet right next to me. I wish it
was always that simple.
The train was one
of those you had to put your hand out for it to stop and then tell the guard
where you wanted to get off - excellent!
When I got back to the car I phoned the Youth Hostel in
Cockermouth and was pleased to hear they had some room. There were only 4 of us staying in this old
mill building but it was an excellent evening having a chat with the warden and
someone who had just done the Coast to Coast cycle route to and from
Newcastle. I popped out into the town
for a disappointing curry – edible but one of these where the chicken tika is
in chicken cubes. They didn’t look too pleased when I mentioned it to them that
I wasn’t too happy!
Back at the hostel we had all gone to bed when there was a
knock on the door and no sign of anyone answering it but by the time I got
there the car was pulling away and we never did find out who it was.
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