Sunday 3 September 2017

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!

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