Category: Walking

The Hathersage walk that wasn’t

The snow was deep and crisp and even for this winter walk.

snow on the hillsFor a long time now, my small walking group have had this weekend set aside for our Christmas meal and walk. We met in Hathersage yesterday for Christmas lunch in the Little John pub and most of the group stayed over in the pub’s ‘cottage’. I booked too late to get a room at the inn and the youth hostel is closed, so my plan was to drive home last night and return to Hathersage this morning. I only live an hour away so it wasn’t a big issue.
winter sun

Saturday morning I woke to snow. There wasn’t much at home, but once in the hills there was lots. The roads were fairly clear though it was slow going. I arrived late for lunch, but at least I got there (a big achievement for me considering my recent record) and I wasn’t even the last. We had a nice lunch which lasted a few hours and then retired to to the cottage for quizzes, games and drinks. I didn’t want to stay too late as I was concerned about the roads icing up over the tops.

snowy hills snowy hills
I left about 7.30pm and had a fairly easy drive. The roads were a bit snowy, but there wasn’t too much traffic and what there was seemed to be driving carefully and slowly. Then just before Hayfield, on a bend on a hill, there was an accident. I could see the blue flashing lights of police cars and ambulances and the narrow road was completely blocked with traffic starting to back up. I was ready for a long wait. Then I noticed cars pulling out from behind me and turning up a side lane. I’d actually assumed it was just a track leading up to a farm, but unless it was party night at the farm (a barn dance maybe?) it had to be more than that. I made a snap decision to follow the cars and see where they went. I presumed they must know another way into Hayfield and if I stuck close they could lead me.

snowy hills

Of course being a little side lane, no more than a single lane track, it wasn’t gritted and was probably a tricky road to drive at the best of times. I slid around a bit, but it was fine. I stuck close enough to the cars in front to see where they were going, but left enough stopping room in case I went into a slide. Just as I wondered what would happen if we all met an oncoming car, one appeared. Luckily it was a 4WD with a driver who knew how to use it. The car went up the side of the bank and was almost at 90 degrees as the driver allowed us all to get past.

New Mills
New Mills

Eventually I got to Hayfield and continued on my way. This morning when I woke up everything was white. After driving home last night, I knew how bad it would probably be further into the Peaks, but decided to give it a try. There wasn’t much traffic and even the grottiest roads looked pretty. Just outside of Glossop everything came to a standstill. The hill was pure ice and cars going down (my direction) were sliding. Cars coming up were … well, they weren’t. The gritters were out, including a couple of men gritting by hand, cars were being pushed, one was being towed by a truck. I finally got clear of the area at 10am which is the time we were meant to be meeting up ready for our 10.30am start. I sent a text to say I probably wouldn’t make it and decided to decide at the end of the road what to do.

Hayfield
Hayfield

As it happened, the road up into the hills wasn’t too bad at all. It had been well gritted and as a main route had already had enough traffic to break the ice and snow up. The fields were white and as I got close to Sparrowpit so was the air. The clouds had dropped and I was driving in a white-out. Once at Tideswell however, the snow abruptly stopped. It looked like a line had been drawn across the countryside – white on the left and green on the right. I made it to Hathersage for 10.45am but had missed the group. I wandered round for a bit in case I bumped into anyone, but didn’t.

I had no idea where they were walking as we still hadn’t decided last night where to go. And after driving through all that snow I really wanted to be out walking in it, not walking in the green hills round Hathersage, something I can do any weekend. So I drove back towards my side of the Peaks. The sun had burnt the clouds off and the sky was blue. I stopped a few times to take photos and then parked up in Hayfield to do a walk along the Sett Valley.

Sett Valley trail in the snow
Sett Valley trail

As it was now afternoon and it gets dark so early I didn’t want to go up into the hills, so instead I walked to New Mills along the Sett Valley trail. Once there I had to turn round and walk back the same way as other routes I could see on the map would have taken too long. But it was nice and I got to see it twice.

Old cemetery DSCN3149

I started following the trail along a well defined path and bridleway from the car park. There were lots of tatalising glimpses of white puffball hills through the trees and the river and lake (is it a lake?) were frozen in parts. The trees were white and the ground underfoot made pleasing crunching noises as I walked. The snow was deep and crisp and even. Where I turned back in New Mills I found an old graveyard with wonky gravestones overgrown with brambles. It looked so dramatic all covered in snow. I wandered around for a while taking photos before heading back to my car and home.

old gravestones old gravestones
I’ve had a lovely day breathing in lovely fresh tingly air, upping my vitamin D intake and making the most of a white world. And I’ve added to my track record of going for walks with my small walking group, not meeting them and doing my own walk instead.

old gravestones snowy hills

Hathersage Christmas Walk no. 1

Micro pigs and money trees on this walk from Hathersage.

Sunday 11th December, 2011


This Sunday my big walking group had its Christmas walk and meal. Next Sunday it’s the turn of my small walking group. Both walks and meals are in Hathersage as this is such a good hub and is on the train line from Manchester to Sheffield, so people living on either side of Pennines have the choice of catching the train instead of driving and so can have a few beers with their Christmas meal.

I chose to drive as it’s much quicker, cheaper and I didn’t feel like drinking a lot anyway.

I picked a friend up at 9am and we were in the pub car park in Hathersage by 10am. The pub we’d chosen was the Millstones and is just outside of Hathersage on the road to Sheffield. The car park had a few goats and a collection of micro pigs and piglets roaming around. The piglets were for sale at £60 each. Tempting, but as I don’t have a parish licence (it’s not that straightforward to buy a pig) I wasn’t able to give in to temptation.

It started to rain just as we began walking, so it was wet-weather gear all the way. We followed a path at the side of the car park downhill into the trees and headed towards the railway and the River Derwent. We walked along a back lane of Grindleford, past Padley chapel, through the Longshaw Estate and ended up at Surprise View from where we walked along the road back to the pub.

We stopped for a coffee break at a shelter behind Padley Chapel and also stopped to take photos of a waterfall and of the money tree on Longshaw Estate. The money tree is a horizontal tree trunk that has been embedded with coins over the years. The coins are firmly hammered in, so there’s no removing them. This is supposed to be a tradition associated with good luck, making a wish (similar to making a wish when throwing a coin into a wishing well) or getting rid of illness (if someone removes a coin they could become ill). See here for an Daily Mail article on money trees.

Once back at the pub we all piled in and took over the toilets so we could get changed into clean and dry clothes. Then, drinks and meal tickets bought and paid for, it was time to attack the carvery. Carveries are great for vegetarians. I piled my plate high with roast potatoes, veggies, bread sauce, stuffing balls, yorkshire puddings, cauliflower cheese, and horseradish sauce. It was delicious and I left the pub a few hours later feeling several kilos heavier than when I’d entered.

Creswell Crags Walk

Caves, quarries and an unexpected tea shop.

Sunday 27th November, 2011


This was a walk in an area I don’t know at all. I’d always thought it too far away for a day walk, but with the help of TomTom I got to the meeting place of Whitwell in just over an hour. This was a walk with my small walking group and for once I actually managed to meet up with them and not be late or go to the wrong car park or do any of the other things I seem to have been good at doing recently.

We found a free car park and there were toilets in the commuity centre across the road. Whitwell itself is a village with a look of a small town. There are quite a few modern houses, pubs, a pizza takeaway place, a hairdresser’s and it has a general look of being fairly low income. Different to many of villages I start walks in where it seems as though you have to be a millionaire to afford a week’s rental in a two up two down.

entrance to Creswell Crags
limestone quary

We began by walking through the town to reach fields and the edge of a limestone quarry to the south of Whitwell. The quarry is fenced off for safety reasons but there was a good path all round the edge. We could see the village of Creswell off to our right as we walked. At the bottom edge of the quarry we left the path and came briefly onto the A616. Then we turned left into the entrance to Creswell Crags. A path that veered off from the road took us to the crags themselves. This rocky gorge has many caves in which have been found bones and skulls of animals not seen in Britain for many thousands of years, and tools used by the first people to inhabit the area. The caves are gated so we couldn’t go in them, though there are tours at certain times.

 

We walked down both sides of the gorge and then stopped for lunch in a picnic area before walking to the swish new visitor centre for a toilet stop and a quick look round. There’s a bit of a museum in the centre which I didn’t get chance to see. I’d also like to spend more time looking round the gorge and doing the cave tour. So I’ll have to come back. Especially as I now know this area isn’t nearly as far away as I’d thought.

 

 

 

Leaving the visitor centre we walked through a dolomite quarry. The earth was silky black and alien looking with just the one fenced in path going through and lots of warning signs about the dangers of straying into the quarry itself. A few shimmering pools added to the overall effect. I was fascinated by the environment and stopped several times to take photos.

 

 


As we reached civilisation again we came across a house with a sign advertising a tea garden. One snap decision later and we all trooped in, much to the surprise of the owner who’d already given up for the day and packed most of the tables and chairs away. The house, called ‘Penny Green’, had a big garden with a swing seat and a little summer house. Running across the bottom was a small stream on the other side of which was a footpath. The lady told us that the footpath was currently being upgraded and when it was finished there would also be a little bridge across the stream so walkers could come directly into her garden from there, thus drumming up more business. We enjoyed sitting in the garden with our drinks, amazed that we could do so in late November. And I was only wearing a fleece and no jacket.

Continuing our walk we followed a small lane to the road near Hoodthorpe and then walked back along paths and through fields (including one with signs warning us to beware of playful horses) to reach Whitwell from the northeast. 

I know where I went

I’ve checked the map and worked out where I walked on Sunday.

Well, I’ve studied the map and worked out where I walked on Sunday. So here it is …

Lunch stop above Bretton Clough

Starting at the eastern end of the village known as Town End (the western end is called Town Head), we wound through a residential street to pick up a footpath that climbed steeply north through a wood. Running along the bottom of the wood is Hollow Brook. At the top of the wood we joined Edge Road and continued northwards until the juction with Sir William Hill Road. Climbing a stile we took the northeast path which followed a wall across the moor. The path curved to the west and then north again along the top of Bretton Clough. This is where we stopped for lunch. After lunch we continued along the path as it dropped down to Bretton Brook and then followed a path on the east side of the brook until we met the road leading into Bretton and the highest pub in Derbyshire. The road in front of the pub heads eastwards and we followed this for a quite a way. It became more of a track than a road and it’s only now looking at the map, that I realise this is the other end of Sir William Hill road. Sir William Hill is a hill alongside this road and has a big pylon perched on top of it. It was in a field just below this pylon that we found the riggweltered sheep. About halfway along this track we turned right and south onto a footpath that headed downhill, crossed a road and then continued more steeply downhill finally coming out near the graveyard of Eyam church.

Map = Explorer OL24
Time = about 4.5hrs

Eyam Walk

A plague village, a silence and an upside down sheep in the mist.

Sunday 13th November, 2011

I had a lovely walk today with my big online walking group (this is different to the small online walking group I was supposed to walk with last week). The walk started in Eyam, which is known as the plague village. This is because when plague arrived in this village, carried in by a flea resident in the cloth brought from London by itinerant tailor George Vickers, the villagers quarantined themselves selflessly to prevent the plague from spreading to the surrounding area.

The village itself is quite long, stretching along one main street with a few offshoots. Many of the old cottages have plaques detailing the people of the household who died of plague. One lists nine victims from the same small house. There is a church with a graveyard, a small museum, a hall (big house), several tea shops and one pub. It’s very touristy and in summer the street can get quite crowded. Today however, on a misty, drizzly Sunday morning, there were only walkers about.

We met near the pub, all 47 of us, plus about 8 dogs of various sizes and colours. At 11am just before starting the walk we observed the 2 minute silence for Rembrance Sunday. A small group of other walkers walked past as we were all stood in silence and one of them made a comment about us being a very quiet group. Another one quickly realised and said, ‘It’s 11 o’clock’. They then stood quietly too. We must have looked very strange though, before they realised – 47 people all stood in sombre silence in the middle of a village street. I also thought how bemused some outside observer would have been to hear the response ‘it’s 11 o’clock’ to the query of our silence and how they would have puzzled over how that could possibly have made sense.

Once we started our walk, we moved quickly uphill slipping and sliding on mud and wet leaves until we were high above the village. There was a very low thick mist, so all views were obscured. As I hadn’t planned the walk and I kept my map in my bag I didn’t have much idea of where we were going for most of the walk. I know we went up Sir William Hill and stopped for lunch above Bretton Clough – the mist cleared just enough to be able to see down into it and realise how high we were. We walked across moorland and through woodland and stopped for a while at the Barrel Inn – the highest pub in Derbyshire – pity we couldn’t admire the views.

Eyam Moor
View of Bretton Clough

 

 

Highest pub in Derbyshire
View from the pub

From there we headed back towards Eyam. On the way we passed a field of sheep, Nothing unusual in that you might think. In this field there was something very unusual though; one of the sheep was upside down, lay on its back with all four legs up in the air. This is known as riggwelter (like the beer from the Black Sheep brewery that has a picture of an upside down sheep on the label). The sheep may find themselves upside down for various reasons, for example, they may not have enough lanolin in their coats and so their fleece gets too wet and heavy and overbalances them, Once upside down the sheep quickly gets a build up of gas in its stomach and this swells the abdomen and will eventually crush the sheep’s lungs suffocating it.

I once saw a sheep like this in Brecon when I was walking on Pen y Fan and Corn Dhu. I was with a friend and we had gone off the main track, which was crowded with walkers, and onto moorland where we were the only people around. When we saw the upside down sheep we laughed. It looked so content, didn’t seem upset or in pain and just seemed to be enjoying the sun. It was only later that we found out what this actually was and that the poor sheep would most likely have died. There wasn’t much chance of any other walkers coming across it. I’ve always felt guilty about it (though it hasn’t stopped me using ‘inverted sheep’ as my user name online) and vowed if I ever saw another sheep like this I would do something about it, though I knew my chances of seeing the same thing elsewhere were pretty much zero. When people ask about the origins of my user name I always take the opportunity to educate them in the perils of riggwelter in the hope that if they ever come across anything like this they will know to do something about it. It was actually the friend I was with that day in Brecon who suggested I use ‘inverted sheep’ as my online name.

But anyway, back to today’s story. The sheep was in a field surrounded by a stone wall with a couple of strands of barbed wire stretched above it. No way was I leaving the sheep like that this time. Before I could even start to get over the wall, one of the guys in the group was over and was rolling the sheep back onto its front. As soon as he let go the sheep flopped onto its back again. It’s stomach was really distended. He tried a second time and this time straddled it and held it upright for a few minutes to give it chance to get its legs working again – its hind legs seemed very shaky. Finally the sheep was able to wobble off. Within minutes its legs seemed less wobbly and so we can only hope that it was able to remain upright. If it did, then what should happen, is that it would do plenty of burping and farting until it had expelled all the gas. It’s a pity there were no farmhouses about though so we could let the farmer know to keep an eye on it. But I now feel slightly less guilty about the sheep in Brecon. Even though it wasn’t me who saved this one. To completely assuage my guilt I think I’ll need to find one when I’m by myself and upright it, but at least this was a step in the right direction.

We finished our walk with a beer in the pub in Eyam. All in all a lovely day with a momentous moment. And now I’ll have to study my map to try to figure out exactly where I’ve been.

Foolow Walk

A duck pond, a friendly ram and some tiny ponies.

Sunday 6th November, 2011


I was supposed to meet my walking group for this walk in the Peak District. We’d agreed to meet in Foolow which is a small village not far from the better known ‘plague village’ of Eyam. Alas, I got caught up in a roadworks traffic jam and missed the group by what must have been only a few minutes. It was a gorgeous day; a frosty start had led to warm sunshine and clear blue skies. Far too nice to be a normal November day and a great day for a walk.

I parked up and got my boots on. I couldn’t remember the exact route the group were taking and so decided to do a figure of eight walk following what looked to be interesting paths on my map. I added in a few ups and downs, nothing too steep, but I did feel as though I didn’t want any more flat after three days of flat walking in Norfolk.

I started by walking west out of Foolow past the tiny church and the duck pond. After walking alongside the road for a few minutes I turned north on the first signposted public footpath to the right. This took me across fields and through a farmyard at Grindlow where there was a tiny pony (Shetland? Dartmoor? I feel I should know this). The path then headed northwest uphill to a road. Directly across the road the path continued upwards through a small wood to another road at the far side. I walked westwards on this road which quickly turned a bend to the north. To my left there was an airfield with gliders taking off and landing. Looked like fun. When they took off they each had a long rope dangling with some kind of bulky thing attached. Once they reached a certain height the rope and bulky thing were dropped. I have no idea what this was or what it was for. I was just glad not to be standing directly underneath!

Once round the bend in the road I joined a footpath again. This took me northeast and dropped down part way into a valley before climbing back up again and arriving at the road I’d previously left by the airfield. The road had looped round and forked just where I rejoined it. I took the minor downhill fork to the right and walked towards Abbey Grange and Grange Farm. Just before the farm I took a path to the south and headed back downhill. After meeting a very friendly ram in a field I found a well placed bench by a wall and sat to have my lunch. It was in the sun and I could see straight along a valley to the airfield and so was able to watch the gliders whilst I ate.

Leaving the bench I continued down to the bottom of the valley and across a small stream. A kind of half bridge had been placed across it. This was a big plank of wood which for me was quite a big step up to get on to it and another piece of wood as a rail along one side. The other side was open and the plank was slippery. Fun times. Safely across I walked uphill again after first taking a bit of a detour when I saw an ‘access land’ sign. There was a path but it didn’t go in the direction I wanted. I tried to make my own route to climb out of the valley but it was too boggy, so I turned back and took the proper path. This is steeply uphill. Rough steps have been put in to help with the ascent, but the workman who built them was presumably a giant. Some of the steps were thigh high. There were good views as I climbed and I could see back to Grange Farm on the other side of the valley and across the bit of access land I’d walked on. From my viewpoint I could see lots of pyramid shaped hills and wondered how they had been formed – man made for some reason maybe? Or just a natural phenomenon? I tried to get a good picture but they don’t really show up on my photos.

At the top of the valley I crossed a road and immediately headed down through thick undergrowth along a path on the opposite side of the road. I could have continued to follow this southbound path to meet up with the road back into Foolow but wanted to extend my walk slightly. So I turned left and east onto a bridlepath and followed this to join up with the same road, just further out from the Foolow. Hitting the road I followed it southwest and then south back to Foolow arriving alongside the church.

I then had a bit of a wander round the village. I went into the church and round the duck pond. I puzzled over a stone structure alongside the pond that had steep steps leading down into a water filled space. No idea what it was (or is) for.

The second loop of my figure of eight walk was shorter and started from the far side of the pond between houses. The path is hard to spot until you’re virtually on top of it as it’s a narrow walled-in path running between the houses and gardens. The entrance has stone slabs across the front and the footpath sign is hidden in the foliage. I’d never had known it was there if it wasn’t for me actually looking for it. Good job it’s marked on the map.

This path leads west and soon leaves the houses behind to head across fields towards the south end of Silly Dale (great name for a dale). I then turned right and headed north along a bridleway that followed the top of the dale back to the road I’d originally headed out on this morning. I walked back along the road to Foolow. These roads are quiet country lanes and so quite pleasant to walk along.

I never got to meet up with my walking group but had a wonderful walk all the same.

Time – about 4.5 hours including lunch stop
Distance – dunno – but maybe as little as 5 miles. I walked quite slowly and kept stopping to look at things or take photos.
Map – Explorer OL24
Start/Finish – Foolow SK191769

Norfolk Coast Path day 3

A long walk on the shingle, an ugly caravan park and a carpet from the 1970s.

Monday, 24th October, 2011

The final day was our earliest start yet. We had to pack the car up and drive to Cromer at the end of the walk in time to get parked, buy lunch and catch the first bus back to Blakeney.

The path took us straight back out onto the sea defences through the marshes, which followed in a big loop to Cley next the Sea. This is a lovely, little village with the windmill at which we’d orginally hoped to stay.

autumnal village shop
Autumn harvest for sale

pumpkins

It was then back across the marshes to get to a very long shingley beach. We walked for 4 miles along here straight into a constantly strong headwind. The going was hard enough on the shingles without having to battle against the wind as well. The beach felt like it went on forever; it stretched out as far as we could see in both directions. Apart from a few fishermen we had it all to ourselves.

A very long beach
beach

beachboatsbeachAt Weybourne the beach reached a grassy area that soon climbed up to become high sea cliffs (well, high for Norfolk). We followed the path along the top of these cliffs until it dropped down into Sheringham. Our first view of Sheringham was of a vast ugly caravan park. I’m not a fan of these parks at the best of times, but at least the one where we were staying in Wells had lots of trees and so the caravans didn’t stand out so much. This one had nothing. Really ugly.

Sheringham
A very ugly caravan park

We walked through Sheringham looking for a nice place to get coffee. Everywhere seemed to be plastic tablecloth, egg and chips type places and nowhere appealed. Eventually we settled on old fashioned tea shop with a carpet from the 1970s. The coffee was good and the staff were friendly, so despite the carpet it was ok.

The final stretch took us up over Beeston Hill and then inland through fields and woods, past farms and caravan parks, to arrive at the back end of Comer. We then walked down through the town to the pier and the end of walk.

Cromer pier
Cromer pier

For such a lovely walk the start and finish leave a lot to be desired.  Hunstanton and Cromer are both shabby seaside towns long past their heyday. And, disappointingly, neither end has a nice sign to mark the start or finish of the walk.

Norfolk Coast Path day 2

Birds, bogs and sea banks.

Sunday, 23rd October, 2011

cowsAnother early start. As the buses don’t start running till later on a Sunday morning, we decided to drive to Burnham Overy Staithe and leave the car there. Then we could get a bus back in the evening to pick it up.

We were walking before 9am and path through marshheaded back out to the marshes. We saw a group of birdwatchers with their telescopes all set up and stopped to chat. They were from Switzerland and watching a spoonbill which isn’t particularly common. Also it was awake and apparently they’re usually asleep. They offered to let us have a look, but it flew away before we could get to the telescopes.


We walked for a long time over the sea banks. As Norfolk is so low it needs these sea defences to prevent flooding. It reminded me a lot of walking in the Netherlands. We saw lots of joggers and lots more birdwatchers. It’s a lovely place to run and the marsh atracts lots of birds, particularly now that we’re going into migration season.

Nudist beach
We found a nudist beach

After a few miles we were walking on beach again. We walked for quite a way along the tree lined beach before turning inwards to have a look at a bird hide in the woods. We then walked through the woods which were lovely with several pools and more marsh. The actual path followed the path further along the beach before turning into the woods, but we were ready for something different.

Path into Wells

path into Wells

Finally the path led to the beach at Wells and we walked the long straight road back into the town. This was my first chance to look around Wells and it is a really nice little town. There’s one main street which is narrow and pedestrianised. We sat outside a small cafe for lunch before heading out of Wells back on the path again.

Wells
Wells

Although we were walking at the edge of the ‘land’ the sea was far away in the distance. Between us was a vast expanse of marshland. We bypassed Stiffkey (pronounced ‘Stewkey’) and came to a stop at Morston. This is a National Trust place with toilets (yay!) and a place to get drinks. It was a lovely day again and I was really in need of a long, cold drink by this time, so it was a very welcome stop. It’s also possible to do boat tours from here out to Blakeney Point to see the seals. They have their pups with them at the moment so now is a really good time to go out there. There were crowds of people waiting for the boats so no doubt it’s something that has to be booked in advance. We had no time anyway as we were on such a tight schedule with the walk.

signpostsFrom Morston we followed the path through the marshes to Blakeney. We were about hour early for the bus, but didn’t think we could risk going further as the path loops far from the road and if we didn’t make it back to the road in time we would miss the last bus. We wandered round Blakeney – more boat trips to the point – and then sat in the courtyard of the Blakeney Hotel having coffee. It was very posh, but quite reasonable prices.

studio in the sky
This strange building in Wells in some kind of studio

Once we picked the car up we drove back to Wells for dinner. There’s a lovely area with houses and a couple of pubs set around a green. We had a drink in one of the pubs and then went for food in the other one. It was nice, but I preferred the pea soup we’d had the night before. We couldn’t go back to the boat though, as there was a private party on. After dinner it was nice to be able to drive back to the caravan instead of having to walk along the long dark road.

Norfolk Coast Path day 1

Pretty villages, marsh, lunch on a sewage pipe and the best pea soup ever.

Saturday, 22nd October, 2011

We were up early to make sandwiches and walk the half mile to the main road in Wells to catch the 8.15 bus to Hunstanton. It was a lovely sunny morning with just a slight nip in the air. The early light was so lovely over the harbour. It had been pitch black last night when we arrived at the caravan so I hadn’t seen any of it.

Early morning light over Wells harbour
The boat where we later ate pea soup


The bus arrived and we bought 3 day passes for £15 each. This means we can hop on and off the coasthopper buses as much as we like. The journey took us through some lovely villages and it seemed a shame that because of having to do the walk in 3 days instead of four, I wouldn’t get time to explore them. Ah well, just have to come back then.


We got off the bus at the lighthouse in old Hunstanton, then realised we should have been in the main part of Hunstanton about a mile up the road. We walked along the road to it and hunted for the sign to mark the beginning of the walk. The best we could find was a rusty old way marker. It was so inauspicious we really weren’t sure we were at the start and so walked further back along the coast to make sure we’d definitely included the start.


Soon after the leaving the town we had the chance to walk along the beach below some dramatic stripey cliffs. The stripes are white limestone, red limestone and carstone. We chose to do this even though the route took us along the tops. We walked for ages along the beach, all the time being aware of the saltmarsh that kept threatening to cut us off from the mainland and the path. We kept seeing paths through and so didn’t worry too much until it was too late and we could get no further. We either had to cross a fairly deep channel to continue on the beach or pick our way through the marsh to get back to the path. We opted for the marsh and pulled off our boots and socks so we could wade through it barefoot. Each way we tried the mud got too deep and gooey to continue. We ended up having to backtrack even though the path was so close. Frustrating, but we’d had fun doing our ‘barfuss’ walking in the marsh.

By this time we were ready for lunch and so perched on a sewage drainage thingy at the edge of the car park to eat our sandwiches. Not the nicest of places to sit on a nice walk, but there was a distinct lack of places to sit down and this was the best we could do.

The path then took us inland through Thornham and across the busy A149. It climbed (yes, I know this is Norfolk, but it really did climb) up away from the coast and we walked inland for quite a way before dropping back down into Brancaster. We wended our way along narrow lanes and paths through farmers’ fields and got some quite good views of the coast and the wind farm out at sea.

Narrow boardwalks through the marsh

From Brancaster we were back to walking along the coast, through saltmarshes on a boardwalk. It took quite a bit of concentration as the boardwalk was narrow, generally only two planks wide, and had some drops of at least a foot on either side straight into the bog. It was strange to see boats stuck in what looked like fields, but what we knew was really marsh and would get flooded at high tides.

At Burnham Deepdale we came back to the road and stopped for a coffee at the White Horse pub. This doesn’t look much from the road but was lovely inside. At the back was a verandah with a half-height glass wall. We sat here with a really good cup of coffee, looking over the small harbour and feeling completely sheltered.

After our coffee break we were on our last stretch of the day. The path wound over sea banks in a big loop away from the road. We felt like we were on this stretch for ages, though it was probably only felt like this because it was the end of a long day and we were getting tired. We could see the windmill which was on the road just before Burnham Overy Staithe and knew we were heading for it. For a long time it never seemed to get any closer. Finally, with fading light, we made it and walked alongside the road into Burnham Overy Staithe to catch our bus back to Wells.

As we knew that once we got back to the caravan we wouldn’t want to come out again, we stopped for dinner whilst we were in Wells. There’s an old sailing boat in the harbour which has been converted into a pub. It’s owned by a Dutch guy and has a large pancake menu, and Dutch pea soup on offer. It was getting a bit chilly to sit on deck so we went down the very steep steps to sit inside. It’s very basic with a tiny bar with 3 small beer barrels sitting on it. There are a few tables and benchs and the walls are papered with old maps.

We spent a really nice couple of hours here eating the best pea soup ever and of course we had to have a pancake. I didn’t think much of the Norfolk beer though. Maybe it’s something to do with the water which is really horrible. If I’d known I’d have brough a car load of Manchester water down with me.

Finally we walked the last half mile back to the caravan in complete darkness. Luckily I had my head torch in my pack. My body felt like it had seized into postion which I blamed on all the flat walking. It might seem easier than hills, but it’s a whole different impact on the body to just keep doing what is essentially the same step over and over for a whole day. A hot shower and bed helped to sort me out though and I felt fine the next morning.

Walking across Morecambe Bay

Walking across the sinking sands of Morecambe Bay with Queen’s Guide Cedric Robinson.

And that’s another one ticked off. Today I finally got to walk across Morecambe Bay.

Last summer I looked into these walks, which can only be done with a guide. The usual person to lead the walks is Queen’s Guide, Cedric Robinson. He’s been the Queen’s Guide since the 1960s and is getting on a bit now. I think he’s actually trying to retire, but doesn’t have a replacement. His walks are now usually only at the weekend and tend to get booked up well in advance with charity groups. I phoned him to try to get myself on one, but he is no longer dealing with bookings himself. After a bit of research I realised the only way I’d get to do this was with a charity. As luck would have it my local hospice was organising one for the first time. I quickly signed up and duly turned up on the day only to be told the walk had been cancelled because of the heavy rain over the weekend. The river that has to be waded through was far too high to be safe. As it was already September it was too late to re-arrange and so had to be postponed until this year.

This year, there was yet again plenty of rain, but fortunately it dried up in time for the weekend. Even getting to sit on the coach in Ashton bus station was further than I’d got last year. Right on time we were off, only to get stuck on the motorway going at 30 miles an hour behind a large motorcycle demonstration. Hundreds of motorcycles and a couple of quad bikes holding all three lanes up. I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get to do the walk this year either. The walks have to be timed between the tides and there’s no room for being late. Fortunately the driver pulled off the motorway and took us a different way so we arrived in Arnside in plenty of time.

We had three coaches altogether and some people also made their own way there. All in all there must have been about 200 of us. Arnside seemed quite nice; much nicer than Morecambe itself. (Note to self: go back and do some walking there).
Right on 4pm Cedric blew his whistle and we set off. To start with we followed a path along the top of the beach and through a caravan park. After about 20 minutes we were on the sands and heading out across the bay. The walk had started for real.

The sand was just wet enough for it to start to seep through trainers and so soon almost everyone was barefoot. We never really hit sinking sand though. I know the idea of the guide is to make sure we avoid the dangerous stuff, but I thought it would actually be harder going than it was, with a bit of sinking going on. Not long into the walk it clouded over and we felt the first few drops of rain. After a quick stop to put rain jackets on, we were off again. Fortunately the rain held off and was never more than a few drops.

The River Kent was midway through the bay. I was actually expecting it nearer the end and so was a bit surprised to come across it so soon. It’s quite wide and Cedric stopped us and got us to spread out alongside its shore. He reassured us that there was no current and the sand was solid. He also warned us that it would come up to our thighs and we might stand on some fish.

The water felt cold at first, but my legs quickly got used to it. As I’m not particularly tall, it did come a bit higher than my thighs. There were quite a few fish about and they were quite big. I didn’t stand on any, but had a few bang into me. They felt like big pebbles each time they hit my legs. It didn’t take too long to cross the river and I was quite enjoying myself by the end. Not long afterwards there was another less deep stream to cross. This one was narrower and only knee deep.

As we got to the far side of the bay the sand became strewn with little spurts of grass. These became thicker and thicker until we were completely off the sand and walking across a boggy grassland. The grass was quite sharp and as at first we seemed to be on dry ground, everyone stopped and put their trainers back on. Very quickly we hit the bog though, and my shoes filled with water.

The light was failing by this time and we had one last set of obstacles to deal with in the encroaching twilight. The boggy area was criss-crossed with ditches, most of them quite deep with thick gloopy mud in the bottom. There was a lot of very slippy, shiny black mud as well which created quite a lot of problems when trying to get a good foothold to get across the ditches. But we did it and soon arrived at the small train station in Kents Bank where our coaches were waiting.

The walk took 3 and a half hours and was, according to Cedric, about 8 miles. The time and distance will always be different as there isn’t a direct way across the sands. Cedric has to check the route out first and sticks branches in the sand to show the safest way avoiding the trecherous quicksand. The route changes with the tides and so is different from day to day. We zigzagged across the bay the whole time and I was quite disoriented by the end, not really knowing which direction I was going in. As we had to be across before the tide came in and before darkness fell, we had to keep quite a quick pace going all the way across.

The walk certainly wasn’t difficult and wasn’t anywhere near as challenging as I was expecting it to be. However, I was still feeling quite tired by the end and was glad to get back on the coach.