Day: 278 23/5/04 Little Neston to Wales Border

Weather:  Fine and breezy.

Distance:  3 km (1.9 miles)    Total Distance:   3583 miles

The last stretch.  I had contacted quite a few people before today telling them of my plans and inviting them to join me on the last leg.  I had heard back from a number of people and in the end quite a few turned up on the day which was a lovely surprise. As well as Margaret and the boys there were Terry who I had worked for and lived not too far away, John who had traveled all the way from Brigg and was combining the trip with a visit to his parents, Andy who had traveled all the way from Northamptonshire to be there especially.  There was also Tim who I went to Swansea University with and his wife and daughter and our friends Mary and Andrew and their daughters who came down from Catterick. Representing my school days was Richard partner.  My family was represented by my Uncle and Aunt  and my postgrad days by Michael and Debbie and their children.

We left plenty of time to drive up from Coventry and was glad we did in the end because I was distracted for a second whilst approaching the Thelwall viaduct by a smoking lorry on the opposite carriageway and missed my exit therefore had to go over the viaduct and back though Warrington.

Getting going was a little tricky as people kept arriving.  Richard couldn’t find us initially which was no surprise as it a little off the beaten track and there is no sign of the sea! 

Last day of the walk

The whole day seemed like a dream in that there were people there from all different parts of may life, many of whom didn’t know each other.  The good news was that everyone seemed to get on OK. 

I had read on the Internet the week before that if there was any firing on the riffle range then it should be over by the time we got to the range itself.  Whatever happened we should have been OK as the range itself was actually on the Wales side of the border.  It made me wonder what sort of danger I put myself in some 20 years ago because I have a photo of me at the border with the red flag flying.

This time the red flags were also flying but nobody showed much hesitation in following me the last couple of hundred yards to the border. Terry, a professional safety officer was well up for it.  The only one who was nervous was Gareth and in fact he never made the actual boarder preferring to lie on the floor and escape any stray bullets.

The end of the coastal walk.

It was quite an emotional moment striding up to the gate, posing for some photos and saying a few words of thanks to those who turned up.

The kind people who turned up at the end

We walked back to the pub and celebrated.  Unfortunately the pub was not doing any food and the landlady even objected to people eating their sandwiches on the picnic tables outside.  She appeared very officious.  It slightly spoilt the atmosphere and people headed away perhaps earlier than they would otherwise have done given the lack of food.

Harp Inn, Little Neston
(Geograph)

Michael had kindly invited us back for a bar-b-que after so when everyone else had left we followed them back to Chester for a relaxing time there. 

A smashing day all round.

Celebrating back in Chester

Day: 277 18/5/04 Hoylake to Little Neston

Weather:  Fine and warm.

Distance:  18 km (11.2 miles)    Total Distance:   3582 miles

I was going to be working in Liverpool the next day so I decided to take a day off and go walking today.  I also made it a day for bagging trig points.  On the way up I went up Helsby Hill between Frodsham and Ellesmere Port.  This was a sandstone hill overlooking the Mersey.  I was relieved to have an excuse to pull off the motorway was it was getting very bunged up near Frodsham with Monday morning commuters.  I also bagged a low lying trig point near Clatterbridge hospital but had trouble finding this one as it was buried in the undergrowth at this time of year. I had to use my GPS in the end. 

Finally to Hoylake, parking the car on the promenade and heading west to begin with along the road but I pretty soon got down onto the beach for the rest of the day, something I was not expecting.  I was interested in Hibre Island just off the coast and the fact that there was a house or two on it, something I didn’t know anything about. 

West Kirby (Geograph)

Rounding the corner and heading southeast I very much felt that I was on the last leg of my walk.  I had to come up onto a promenade briefly at West Kirby but I was soon down onto the beach again.  As I was stopped for a drink and snack I got talking to a couple with a dog. They thought the Wirral was the best place in the world.  I nodded but was not that convinced myself. 

As I neared Neston I passed a lady who advised me that I should have a ice cream in celebration of nearing the end of my walk in a famous ice cream sellers in Neston. This I duly did. It was good advice, not as nice as the ice cream we had had in Italy on holiday at Easter but it was still pretty good compared to the normal bland stuff one buys these days.

The last stretch to Little Neston was on the marshland that no doubt used to be estuary before it silted up.  Finding a path here was a little messy at times.

Parkgate, Neston (Rosalind Mitchell, Geograph)

My other celebration was to have a pint of Pedigree in the Harp Inn, staking out the joint for my last couple of miles in a week or twos time.  I was thinking it would be a larger pub than it was but it was ok – at least it was in the Good Beer Guide. 

Day: 276 9/5/04 Eastham to Hoylake

Weather:  Fine and warm. 

Distance:  29 km (18 miles)    Total Distance:   3570 miles

I parked in the old part of Eastham and headed down the road towards the old dock.  It was still a quiet Sunday morning.  As the path neared the River Mersey it entered Eashtam Country Park.  I followed it not knowing if I could get out the other end but fortunately I could, into an industrial estate.  My way eventually got blocked by a chemical works – the FMC Lithium works I think, so I was forced inland and along another stretch of industrial estate including a cake factory.  A safety board in the factory reported accidents – I think the doughnut department was performing best. 

Eastham       (Sue Adair - Geograph)

At the end of the road I turned right and ended up in a village called Bromborough Pool, a village of workers terraced housed all in excellent condition. I guess it mirrored the nearby Port Sunlight village.  It was in sharp contrast to the untidy nearby industrial landscape. 

For the next few miles it was a case of hoping I was not forced too far inland by docks or factories.  I ended up in a suburban area called New Ferry, threading my way around the streets and again eventually catching sight of the River Mersey. 

At the end of this area there was a slip path and I sat and ate a banana and had a drink, satisfied with my progress to date.  Soon after this point there was a path into a more middle class area and then after this I was forced over the dual carriage way by means of a footbridge and again into a semi-industrial area, then back over the main road, down through another deserted industrial estate before turning seawards again and stumbling on the remains of a priory. 

Soon I was able to join a path down to the water’s edge and stopped for a canned drink and cake the head of the Mersey Ferry Terminal in Birkenhead.  It was still a case of trying to find a good path and as I passed the tunnel head’s, it was a desolate area.  I ended up in one dockland area afraid I would have to back track on myself but fortunately the path did let me out onto the main road and a bridge over the dockyards and into Wallasey. 

Wallasey Town Hall (Stephen Nunney Geograpph)

After another half mile of road walking and past another tunnel terminus I was on the coast again and the wide straight  promenade, past the elegant Town Hall,  that took me north all the way to the Wirral headland.  The area was barred to cars but still pretty busy with walkers and cyclists, especially at the headland. 

As I turned left I studied the map and the time to decide when to stop.  I was going well so pushed on to Hoylake.  After a disappointing stretch along modern roads the path became more rural and I took to the beach for quite a long stretch and was relieved in the end to see Hoylake. I then just had to decide when to stop – the nearest point to a train station I decided.

Perch Rock Lighthouse, New Brighton   (Geograph, Peter Craine)

I caught a train from the rather strange Manor Park Station in Hoylake which is down the end of a suburban street. A lady noticed that I was looking a little lost and told me which way to go to find the station.  Some youths walked down the line so the station master called the police. It seemed that sort of area.  I changed trains in Birkenhead, an underground station, again strange. 

On the way back I took the last train to Bromborough Station and walked back to the car but as luck would have it I had to walk straight past the front door of my Uncle and Aunt.   I don’t think I had ever met them or if I had I must have been very young.  They had a surprise to see me and in the usual generosity invited me in and made me share their Sunday lunch with them.  They must have been very inventive to make it stretch the extra person and they must have been hungry on Monday when they usually eat the leftovers!  After dinner my uncle kindly gave me a lift back to my car so I could drive back to Coventry without being too late.  I phoned Margaret to tell her not to cook me any tea!

Day: 275 25/4/04 Frodsham to Eastham

Weather:  Fine and hot. 

Distance:  23 km (14.3 miles)    Total Distance:   3552 miles

I slept like a log and got up for the breakfast that was in the overnight price – another sign of changing times in Youth Hostels and very nice it was too. 

Starting point for the day - River Weaver at Frodsham
(Geograph - ROW17)

I drove to Frodsham and parked outside the Bridge Inn with signs of the previous evenings drunkenness – a meal tipped over a car parked next to me.  The first part of the walk took me down the river’s edge, under the motorway and around an ICI landfill site.  I passed some bloke camping on a spit of wasteland just under the M56, not exactly a choice site. 

Frodsham map

This was good bird watching country, particularly at this time of year.  As the path cut back in again towards Frodsham I passed a number of twitchers.  Just before I got to the motorway again the path cut back out again onto the marsh.  The path went westwards though - not seemingly following the path marked on my 20 year old map. 

I was beginning to enjoy this stretch in the fine weather when all of a sudden it ended and I was in among a chemical factory again.  I was passed by a seemingly very fit walker who strode past me with purpose.  I asked him if he was off to Ellesmere Port and he said yes, to do the shopping!  After a stretch along farm tracks and minor roads I ended up in the village of Ince.  I took refuge in the church graveyard and dug into a packet of biscuits.  The shade of the trees was much appreciated.  I psyched myself up for the next stretch.

St James church, Ince - a good graveyard for taking a rest
(Geograph - Ian Nadin)

There now followed a three-mile stretch through Stanlow Oil Refinery and past the Associated Octel works that was being demolished.  It wasn’t as bad as it may have been.  There was a decent pavement and not too much traffic.  I took a break in the Waterways Museum in Ellesmere Port – used their loo and sat on a settee in the foyer and had a can of their pop.

Ellesmere Port map

Waterways Museum at Ellesmere Port with a comfy sofa in the foyer.
(Geograph - Martin Clark)

The next stretch was also none too good, on roads parallel to the motorway.  There was just one nice stretch where I found a woodland area with good paths parallel to the motorway but very peaceful.  I crossed the M53 again and approached the village of Eastham and although the scenery was getting better I decided to call it a day.

There now followed another tortuous journey back to the car.  I got a bus easily to Ellesmere Port by waking up on to the main road.  In Ellesmere Port however there were no busses to Frodsham so I walked up to the railway station and asked the guard in the waiting train who advised me to get to Chester which was a journey in two trains – one back virtually to Eastham!  Once in Chester I would have had an almost two hour wait for a train to Frodsham so decided to see if I could get a bus.  It took a while to find the bus station and then another fair wait for a bus – time for a pint in a historic Chester pub and eventually back to Frodsham, a quick trig point bag and a drive home!

Day: 274 25/4/04 Garston to Frodsham

Weather:  Fine and hot.

Distance:  29 km (18 miles)    Total Distance:   3538 miles

It was a good weekend’s forecast so I set off early from Coventry and started the day with my new hobby of trigpointing – one of them in Stanley Park, Liverpool between Anfield and Goodison.  You are never far from a trigpoint and there are lots of different kinds to visit.  The hobby will keep you busy for years!  Visit TrigpointingUK

The week previously I had made contact via the internet with David Cousins who last year had walked around the coast and made a log of it on the Internet.  I had read his log of this coming section where he describes Garston as not very attractive, or words to that effect, and how right he was.  

Garston map

I parked not too far from the train station and made my way though Garston and then the nearby industrial estate.  Soon however I was able to cut down onto the mini cliff top.  As I approached Liverpool airport I was expecting to have to go down onto the foreshore and in the end I did.  Fortunately the tide was out.  The bad thing about this stretch was that the 4x4 vehicles had discovered the area and there was mile upon mile of ripped up ecosystem – the first evidence I had seen of this destructive hobby my entire walk. 

The coast got more pleasant at Hale Point especially in the Spring sunshine.  The path from here goes into Hale where I stopped for lunch.  As I was nearing the end of my coastal walk I decided to have a pint and a proper lunch in the pub, the Marquess of Hale.  It was a good pint of Liverpool brewed beer. 

After a short stretch of road walking it was back to the coast, through a country park, past some chemical industry, over an elaborate footbridge and then into the outskirts of Widnes.  To get onto the footbridge over the Mersey I took the underpass under the bridge and then onto the very distinctive iron bridge.  Getting off on the southern end was more difficult and the road swung around and back though Runcorn and onto the coast again.

Runcorn map

It all got rather scrappy from here.  I wandered through a new housing development but was then forced inland and ended up lost in Runcorn docks in among lots of scrap car dealers.  After a while I ended up crossing a railway line and going over an overgrown embankment onto a dual carriageway. 

I was a little nervous here as I had just had the operation on my wrist the Monday before to have the pins taken out of my broken arm and I didn’t want to fall and break it again!  I used my GPS at one stage to find out where I was – that’s how lost I was. 

The road went down into Weston Point – famed I believe for chemical contamination from the nearby ICI chemical works.  I had a pint of larger shandy in the pub, a rough place but the drink was only £1.64.  There was a cockatoo sitting on top of a cage in the pub!

After a spell on the dual carriageway again I cut down towards the power station and thought I would have to backtrack again as I could not see the path that was marked on the map but I asked the gateman and he said it was over the hedge – seldom used but passable. 

Down to the river, up the canal, over the bridge then another little error – a little detour up to near the motorway and back again. 

I called it a day near the Bridge Inn at Frodsham and began a very tortuous journey back to the car that took three and a half  hours.  A bus to Runcorn, a very slow bus to Liverpool stopping everywhere and then train to Garston - all with bad connections in between. 

I stopped the night in Chester Youth Hostel arriving at 10.00 with just time to eat some pre-packed sandwiches I had bought and drink two cups of tea before I was thrown out of the Members Kitchen and had to retire to the lounge with a modern working TV.  Oh how youth hostels have changed!  A drunken exuberant group of teenagers then appeared so I retired to bed hoping that none of them were housed in my room.

Day: 273 19/2/04 Hightown to Garston

Weather:  Fine and cold.

Distance:  25 km (15.5 miles)    Total Distance:   3520 miles

The family were in Ireland for half-term so I took a day off and headed off to the north-east.  I set off about 7.00 from Coventry and treated myself by using the new M6 toll road, thereby avoiding the traffic in Birmingham.  Arriving in the quiet village of Hightown, I parked near the railway station and then went to the local shop for a sausage roll and to stock up on biscuits and pop etc.

I took a path down the side of the army base to the sea and then over the dunes.  As it was half-term I was expecting to see lots of bored teenagers setting fire to cars etc and true enough it was not long till I saw some smoke, though I think it was just flotsam and jetsam they had lit in this case – just practicing I guess. 

I could tell I was nearing Liverpool by the number of large ships and ferries heading in and out of the port.

It was nice to be walking on or near the sand.  I was making the most of it I guessed it could be the last I would see on this coastal walk.  A track of sorts took me down to Cosby with the wind turbines in the distance.  Soon I realised that I was walking around the outside of Marine Lake but my path along the coast was now blocked as it was the start of the massive Liverpool dock complex. 

As I headed inland the scenery changed.  There were large brick houses now looking more like student accommodation and a rural park.  I soon found myself heading south on the main A-road and fortunately it had a pavement on it and enough of interest to keep my attention away from the heavy traffic, though I was not able to see the ships in the docks themselves.  I was pleased however to be able to cut down off the main road to follow a more minor road into Liverpool itself.  I stopped in a greasy spoon café for a cup of coffee but wasn’t tempted by the ultra cheap fried food. There were even showers at the place for people to pay and use.  Now that’s what I call a real transport café!

This road, although quieter was a lot drearier.  I has to carry a banana skin about two miles before I found somewhere to throw it away, not that anyone would have noticed in among all the other rubbish, it was more the principle of the thing. 

As I neared the city I passed the service shaft for the Mersey Tunnel and was tempted if I could talk anyone into letting me walk through any service tunnel there may have been.  All of a sudden I turned towards the sea and the scenery changed again.  Modern corporate buildings with their own security gates appeared and these led to an excellent docklands development mixing in the old shipping buildings such as those with the Liver Birds on top of with modern apartments.  The most pleasing thing was that there was an uninterrupted path all along the coast with nothing to force me inland for miles.  I never did see the Mersey Ferry – is it still running?

I walked over the cobbles or granite ‘setts’ and was reminded that my grandfather had spent time in Liverpool Docks cutting and laying ‘setts’.  I could have been walking over my grandfather’s work!

I wonder if these are my grandfather's handiwork or more like hard toil. 

The dockland development faded away and parkland bordering the Mersey appeared.  This continued all the way to what I guess is Cressington.  This is a strange place in that there was active discouragement to anyone wanting to walk along the seafront in that my way was blocked by a fence.  I took to the sands thinking that I could cut up into the streets later but the wall got taller and taller and there were no steps up.  I eventually scrambled up the first embankment and into a freight terminal but there was still no way into Cressibgton itself so I carried on through the freight terminal and was not challenged once all the way.

The last stretch was along a dual carriageway and into Allerton where I was lucky enough to get a train straight away all the way back to Hightown.   I then did a bit of my new hobby – trig point bagging – well, this one was in fact a bolt on a bridge near Formby - even sadder! 

After that I went to stay with friends in Leeds.  The following day I did some more trig point bagging before going to deliver a lecture at York University.

Day: 272 15/2/04 Southport to Hightown

Weather:  Fine and cold.

Distance:  25 km (15.5 miles)    Total Distance:   3504 miles

This, I am hoping, is the start of my last years coastal path walking, which at the same time  is disappointing in a big way too.  With my eye on a new hobby, I had started trig point bagging and stopped on the way to the start of this walk to bag one in the early winter summer sunshine at Holmeswood. 

I parked the car on the Crossens housing estate rather than leave it in the isolated lay-by where I had finished walking last time.  This meant I had to climb over a fence at the end of a cul-de sac before even starting this walk and onto the riverbank.  There was a long stretch at the beginning of this walk along a road but as it was a Sunday morning it wasn't too busy.  I deviated for a while onto the muddy riverbank to get around a building and then back onto the road.  This turned into promenade as I past Southport.  I didn’t see too much of Southport by going this route as it is quite far back from the seafront.  All I seemed to pass was a large new shopping development and the ever present McDonald's both of which I avoided at all cost. 

Once out of the town the road went inland a bit and I took to the beach, stopping soon afterwards for a drink and snack out of my rucksack.

I thought of stopping at Ainsdale holiday centre for a coffee but although it was crowded with people enjoying an unusually sunny Sunday there was nowhere open.

Back to the beach again and onwards towards Liverpool.  I saw streams of people coming out of the dunes near Formby and down to the sea as if released from their winter hibernation holes.  Past Formby I started to hear the sound of rifle shots and then the red flags appeared.  I had seen the range marked on the map so was already expecting to be forced inland here. 

I walked up towards Formby but still had some energy left so carried on till Hightown taking a narrow footpath that followed the railway all the way.  I was very lucky on arrival at Hightown to get a train back to Southport almost straight away. The scouse girls on the train all looked like they were out of Letter to Brezhnev.  Southport itself was busy with Sunday shoppers – eating ice-cream in the sun!

I then got a bus back to the estate where I had parked – again, from a very friendly bus driver.

Time for two more trig points before heading home – one at the back of a garden centre in a field with a caged magpie and dead rabbit for food and one on top of a reservoir.  

Day: 268 1/12/03 Tarleton to Southport

Weather:  Wet.

Distance:  16 km (10 miles)    Total Distance:   3489 miles

I had been staying with friends in the Lake District for a weekend doing some wet walking.  Two of us had stayed on the extra night in the cottage.  My friend took me out the previous evening and we sampled beer in Ulverston, had a meal at his favourite pub – famed for where the Beatrix Potter films were made and then went back to the local where unbelievably we won the quiz,  just the two of us where as other teams had five or six in their team.  The questions were not exactly taxing, such as who scored the winning drop goal for England in the rugby world cup the previous weekend (Johnny Wilkinson).  The tie-breaker question to split the three tying teams at the end was what is the total amount of money in a Monopoly set?  Strangely enough we managed to get pretty close. 

We had had enough of walking up mountains and not seeing anything enticing in the area plus a lot of drizzle, I persuaded him to come coastal path walking with me.  Unfortunately for him it was not the most exciting stretch of coastline – the end of the Ribble Estuary out to Southport, mainly along sea defences between mash land and farmland. Added to that, it started to rain for the second half of the walk! 

It did however give me an opportunity to ware the gaiters I had bought in Ambleside.  I walk the whole coast of England and Wales and only now decide to buy a pair of gaiters – what a twerp!   Having two cars however meant we could park one at the end and didn’t have to worry about hitching back – a pleasure that my friends therefore missed out on – hitching in the rain!  The walk was so plane that there is little point in mentioning anything about it!

Day: 267 28/8/03 Preston to Tarleton

Weather:  Warm but dull.

Distance:  16 km (10 miles)    Total Distance:   3479 miles

This would be the last walk I would do as part of a trip back from our Lancaster factory as it would be closing down in September.  This was a sad event because the workforce had put in a lot of effort but in the end a slump in demand for camera film put pay to their efforts. 

After my meeting was over I changed and drove down to Preston, parked the car in a park just across the river from where I was to start and then walked over the bridge to where I stopped last time.  I retraced my steps, past the car and along the riverbank.  The park slowly dwindled out into a path through farmland and the number of people around became a lot less.

There was quite a nasty smell at one stage from the rubbish heap on the other side of the river.  Apart from that, it was far from a momentous walk.  It was signposted the Ribble Way, not that I had ever heard of it and I can understand why its not one of the more famous long distance walks!  I stopped for a pub lunch at Longton,  The beer was pretty average. 

The path got harder to follow after that but I managed it.  Towards the end there was no longer a right of way along the river bank and I was forced to go up onto the main road which was none too pleasant given it was a very busy road.  There wasn’t much to see apart from signs to Bank Hall which was appearing on the TV series Restoration where viewers voted which crumbling building they thought most worthy of restoration.  

Once across the river I managed to find a pretty unused path up the river bank and into Tarleton.  There was confusion over where to catch the bus back to Preston as buses appeared to go both ways around the village. I had my doubts that the man who had claimed to help me had told me the truth when a bus going the other way had Preston on the front but one did eventually come and all was OK in life again.

Day: 266 26/6/03 Lytham to Preston

Weather:  Warm and sunny.

Distance:  20 km (12.4 miles)    Total Distance:   3469 miles

I had a meeting in Lancaster that finished before lunch so after a bite to eat of chilli, rice and chips was able to get away.  A colleague had made us all laugh at dinner by asking the person clearing the plates for olive oil and white wine vinegar – which is only funny when you realise that the canteen is more along the lines of a transport café and has about a dozen customers each day.

It was about 45 minutes to Lytham and I parked in a park car park along the front which was about two-minutes walk from my start point but free!  The first bit was along the prom and then along a river bank in front of the new Land Registry building – but not an official path I don’t think as it ran out and I scrambled though an industrial estate and onto a road.  It was then down along another riverbank and then through a marina and onto the main road to cross a river and onto the marshes again. 

I was getting buzzed by fighter planes which I was later to learn was the new Euro-fighter plane – which explains why it had no markings.  Lets just say it was not being designed with peace in mind!  The paths were in a reasonable state.  

When I was rounding the airfield I was overtaken by a jogger.  He looked funny in that he was dressed in normal clothes.  His shirt was hanging out and was all frayed along the bottom appearing to indicate that he did this a lot. A bit further on he had stopped and he engaged me in conversation – a little weird but harmless enough I’d say.  He had run three miles along this path every day for the past 30 years.  He told me about the planes and how he lived at the end of the runway – that sort of explained a lot! 

Further on at Naze Mount I had to go up the river about two miles to the main road.  As I rounded the point I lost the path and ended up in marshy ground.  I kept falling into muddy gullies.  At one point I heard what sounded like a loose and very large angry dog nor far away in the trees.  Just then the Euro-fighter started another series of manoeuvres deafening and I must admit frightening me as I now didn’t know how far away the dog was!

I rejoined the path and to calm down I took the jogger’s advice and stopped in the Ship for a very peaceful pint of 6X and drank it in the garden overlooking the estuary.  

The next part was though the back streets of the village and then onto the main road.  There was little option but to follow the main road towards Preston as it was the closest right of way to the sea.  There was a pavement of sorts for about the next three miles and being slightly numbed by the beer it was not a bad walk – better than it looked on the map.  

I turned off towards the sea by going though a farm, marked as a path but not a public right of way.  I past a pond with tiny ducklings and then up an embankment and a nice track.  I was all relaxed until I saw a sign saying it was a 4x4 track and from then on expected to get mown down by a truck at any moment.  I then frightened a lady dog walking by calling down a bank to her and asking if that was a path to Preston and then scrambling down it to join it – she must have thought her time was up!  

The path took me all the way into Preston along the river bank alongside a dockland development.  I couldn’t access the first bridge over the Ribble from the footpath as it was fenced off so walked down to the second and finished my walk there.

I strolled up to the railway station and got a train back to Lytham and then drove back to Coventry for supper at about 10.15. 

Day: 265 31/5/03 Cleveleys to Lytham

Weather:  Warm with intermittent clouds.

Distance:  19 km (11.8 miles)    Total Distance:   3456 miles

I was up and out of the campsite by 7.45am having made myself a cup of tea on the gas stove and bundled all my stuff into the boot of the car.  The roads were pretty quiet and the only people on the promenade where I parked were a few caravanettes and a few fishermen. 

I headed off south, along a concrete promenade that seemed to go on for miles, lower and hidden from the road it was completely featureless.  I passed the occasional people out walking their dogs.  In fact, dog turds were all that broke the monotony of the concrete.   I had heard that Blackpool boasted something like 12 miles of sandy beach and promenade but honestly, if they are going to boast about it they should try a little harder. 

I was trying to keep in a positive frame of mind about Blackpool.  It was not the sort of place I would ever visit voluntarily but I was trying to look upon it as an experience.  As I neared the first of the town’s three piers the promenade got smarter.  The first thing that hit me on the breeze was the smell of candy floss!  As I rose from the promenade to street level I was eager to see what Blackpool had to offer – the first sign I read was ‘lap dancing club’, the second, Mecca Bingo and so on!  Never mind, it was still only 9.00am in the morning and at least I was not being mown down by louts!  Youngsters who had not made it to a B&B tried to grab some sleep on the benches as I neared the famous tower, looking rusty, or is that how it is supposed to look?

I took a break on a bench as the holidaymakers were just beginning to venture out.  Heading on I passed the amusements, the Illuminations – seemingly just one big advertisement for McDonalds.  At the final pier the Leisure Park with its giant Big Dipper was just carrying out its morning dummy runs – making sure everything stayed on the track.  The bouncy castle was being inflated on the prom.  To the south again were all the B&Bs standing shoulder to shoulder and then suddenly the end – sand dunes began near the airport and I was on a pretty quiet beach enjoying the solitude once again. I had survived without a nervous breakdown! 

I trekked behind a couple of family groups out walking the sandy beach and then, after a few miles, I spotted houses and tried to get up onto a path for firmer footing but it was a busyish road and not very attractive walking so changed my mind and stayed on the sand, under the pier. More people around by now.  

The dunes gave way to sort of mud and unattractive scrub for a mile or two and then as the sea appeared so did a promenade and with it a fishing competition.   They seemed to be catching fish all the time and needed five hands to fish, cast, measure, weigh, prepare bait and whatever else fishermen in a competition have to do.  There seemed to be either too many fish for some or they were too small (the fish not the fishermen) and had to be thrown back.  I felt very sorry for them because the fishermen had to give it real welly to reach the sea from the sloping promenade and being flat fish they entered with a belly flow.  I guess that’s where the name skate comes from.

A sudden poshness appeared and the wealth of Lytham compared to Blackpool was evident by the houses.  I stopped in Lytham reasoning that had I carried on much further it would be hard to set back to the start next time.  I didn’t know where to get a bus back and the blighters had moved the TIC from where it was indicated on the OS map so I dashed into an art exhibition where two ladies told me the bus stop was virtually outside.  The divers told be that I should get their bus back to the tram terminus at Star Gate and go by tram from there which I did – but the tram takes an awful long time!

Day: 265 30/5/03 Knott End to Cleveleys

Weather:  Hot and sunny.

Distance:  31 km (19.3 miles)    Total Distance:   3445 miles

It was a grand sunny morning.  I had been woken very early by the dawn chorus but I did manage to get a few extra hours sleep after that.  I left the tent where it was and arrived at Knott End not long after eight o’clock.  Just as I parked the car there was a news story on Radio 4 covering the Chemical Weapons Convention and how some reporters had been sold some precursors to the nerve gas Sarin without too many questions asked.  I was on the mobile to work at the start of the walk and a lady told me off for not leaving my mobile behind when going for a relaxing walk. I felt I had to agree with her!

It was a very pleasant walk down the east bank of the Wyre.  First over a golf course, without being hit by a ball, then though country lanes, an odd sea defence.  It was so pleasant that when I reached the village of Staynall I sat for a while on the village bench and took in the fresh air, bird songs and general tranquility.

The village of Hambleton has a sizeable harbour full of yachts. A funny thought crossed my mind – was it just pretending to the Hamble – which I think was a large yachting harbour on the south coast.  

The next stretch up to the Shard Bridge was marked as a footpath on the map but in reality was on the foreshore and pretty muddy in places.  

Over the Shand bridge and onto the foreshore again – getting a little concerned about some dogs that the owner appeared not to be controlling all that well.  A half-mile inlet full of more yachts meant a detour up to the main road.  A man stopped me and keenly told me the rest of the route to Fleetwood – not all that necessary as it was just following the coast!   The path went in front of the yacht club and then past a series of pontoons on which more yachts were moored.  I stopped on one to cool off, take my boots off and have some water.  I was gain worried by a dog but the owners looked equally aggressive so didn’t complain to them too much. 

The next section ran along the front of the country park where my tent was – I couldn’t see it but I could see the pylon under which I was camped.  After this the path was less picturesque and went along a chemical works – EVC an old branch of ICI.  Much of the plant including that labelled as vinyl chloride storage was flattened.  The way along the coast was then blocked and the path swung inland and a leafy path took me to the main road and not to a shop on the caravan site I was hoping for.  Now I was desperate for a drink and was pleased to see the sign for a café in a children’s farm over the road.  The cup of tea was much appreciated but I forwent the trip around the farm.

After a roundabout the main road into Fleetwood became very busy and the first part was impossible to walk along.  I was forced to walk on the long grass of the verge for a long time before the relief of a coastal path appeared and took me past the fishing harbour and then the ferry port.  I walked through a car park and my way was then blocked by a fence so I had to get inland onto the main road. The quickest way was to walk directly through a café and out the other side – I doubt that the coastal path guide books have that one written into them!

The ferry I was going to catch was on the Knott side at the time it was meant to leave Fleetwood so I treated myself to a Magnum ice-cream and waited developments.  When it did return I overheard a man on a mobile coming off the ferry said he was in the process of repairing the ferry. It did not fill me with confidence!  I had visions of us being swept out to sea but we made it across OK.

I went back to the campsite, made myself a cup of tea and relaxed in the shade andncooled down.  As it was still early I took off again to Fleetwood, passing the Fisherman’s Friend factory.  The crowds had gone and I parked near the pier and walked along a pretty dull promenade to Cleveleys in the next few hours.  Then I caught a tram back on the second attempt having got on the wrong one first but they were pretty friendly.  On the second bus I sat at the back for cool air but some yobs got on two of whom started squeezing the others spots and the other picked his nose directly in front of me – truly horrid!

I went back and had shower then went to get a take-away, a pretty horrid chicken biryanni from a chip/pizza/curry shop – I was filled with false hope when I saw that the cook was Asian.  It was amazingly hot in the take away so waited outside whilst it was cooked.