Thursday, 31 August 2017

Day: 253 26/9/02 Harrington to Braystones

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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