Picture Post Update

John Hee again. After the recent excitement of his Bellingham meet-up Alan is back on his tod moving northwards once more, feeding pictures back as he goes.

Updated posts here:

Day 55

Day 56

Day 57

DAY 61: St Boswells to Stow: Evening Report

Today: 16.1 miles
Total so far: 873.5
Percentage Completed: 52.3%

(Click map to enlarge)

It was a day off yesterday with Lynnie; her last visit for the trip as I am now getting further north. So, refreshed, I started out on another stretch of the Tweed this afternoon, watching another fly-fisherman trying his luck. I have yet to see anyone catch a fish - are there any in this river?

Then it was up a minor road heading north; always a good direction for someone heading to John O'Groats. Passing a huge rubbish dump - sorry, recycling centre - chewing the dust the tracked vehicles were kicking up, and then I was up on top of the hills with extensive views back to the Eildon Hills and the entire Cheviot range.

Water was a bit tight; I only carry a litre, but I made it to the highest point to look at tomorrow's hills; The Moorfoots. They looked splendid in the warm afternoon sunshine. The view down to Stow was all feathery pines and soft deciduous new leaves, framing a pretty little village.

I made it down to Stow Post Office to bag a bottle of coke and the lovely postmaster slipped me five pounds for Sue Ryder. I had forgotten to mention that Sam at the pub, back at Kirk Yetholm at the end of the Pennine Way, had also slipped me a fiver as he left the pub.

And who said that the Scots were tight? So far all I have met is generosity and kindness. It's good to be here in Scotland.

DAY 61: Lunchtime Report

Burts Hotel, Melrose

I had a lovely stroll over the last of St Cuthbert's Way from St Boswell's this morning. The Eildon Hills are easily gained and the views back are to the Cheviots, over ribbons of bright yellow rape fields, emerald green pastures and fresh green leaved beech trees.

The walking underfoot is a delight of soft red earth and beech nuts and when the top is reached your senses are overwelmed with the smell of the gorse.

I wrote my postcards from an incredibly indifferent cafe opposite the Abbey, so gave it up as a bad job and found this pub and it is much better sitting here with a pint of Timothy Taylor Landlord and a rare beef and horseradish sandwich.

Just 15 km to do this afternoon to get to Stow and the weather is perfect; sunny with cool breezes.

Melrose seems to be full of Americans and coach parties - an odd mix. The town itself is very pretty and I have picked up an excellent looking pork pie and a mutton pie for later this afternoon.

I see from the news that Kent has had an earthquake. Even the Scots reported it! It must have been terrible...Alan

DAY 59: Cessford Castle to St Boswells

Today: 16.5 miles
Total so far: 857.4 miles
Percentage Completed: 51.3%

(Click map to enlarge)

A whole day in Scotland today; and what a day. I followed the St Cuthbert's Way - a beautifully crafted walk.

Having fly-camped at Cessford Castle, I was away early - on the road by seven, with mists covering the valleys below. The tent was soaked from a very heavy dew but all that can be sorted later. It was fun following the new revised route for the St Cuthbert’s Way; the new route following more woodland -and what woodland! Banks and banks of wild flowers with beech hangers on top of the gentle hills.

I then re-joined the old route on Dere Street, and was soon following the River Jed for a short while, with wild garlic all around, bluebells and all manner of other flowers. The Jed flowed into the Teviot, a stronger river, and I crossed it over the new suspension bridge. I found my way to the Harestanes Visitor for a welcome late breakfast.

I was soon whizzing along Dere Street again. There was a temptation to just nip into St Boswells, but having seen what St Cuthbert’s was like so far, I followed him down to the Tweed, for an ingenious board walk seemingly among the tree tops to one side and more and more scented banks of wild flowers to the other. He then drops you off at river level, and I took a rest watching clouds of sand-martins and swifts darting over the river as a lone fisherman was casting his fly mid river. It was timeless. I could have been in any of the last hundred years.

I made it to the Buckloo Hotel (It's not spelt like that, but that's what it sounds like) to get all clean and fill their washing machine with a rucksack full of incredibly smelly clothes!

A rest day tomorrow, so I shall lie back and remember England (and Wales too) but the second half of my walk will all be in Scotland. If it is going to be half as much fun as the walk so far, I am in for a good second half.

DAY 58: Hen Hole to Cessford Castle

Friday 27th April (Posted Saturday)
Today: 14.3 miles
Total so far: 840.9 miles
Percentage Completed: 50.4%

(Click map to enlarge)

The sun was late showing itself over the hills into the Henhole and so we were away at a modest Nine o'clock; not bad for a group of five, and the first stop for the day was the emergency shelter above us on the saddle, where Morpeth duly noted our passing in the log book.

We chose the High Level finish to the Pennine Way because, as Croydon would put it, "We're 'Ard!" It has to be said, the last hill is a bit of a pig, but the views over the borders are sensational, so it was worth it.

I like the Cheviots; admittedly we saw them at their best - in good weather, if a bit on the cold side. I can imagine them to be a struggle in poor weather, but the sun shines on the ...etc etc. They are a wonderfully shapely range of hills, with interlocking spurs and steep sided valleys and views in the late afternoon sun that force you to stop and take time to let it all soak in.

As we bounced down the last hill to the road, we were met at the bottom by Humph Weightman, one of Phil's daundering dwarves. He declined the offer to walk with us to the Border Hotel and drove his car to meet us, for me to collect my 'stifkit' and free half pint - well deserved - if I say it myself!

We all then ambled over to Town Yetholm to partake in the butcher’s pies and wash them down with another couple of pints of the good stuff.

Then Di Morpeth bundled all my friends into her car to take them away home for baths with fluffy hot towels, as I trudged away onwards to Morebattle. There was no room at the inn at Morebattle, so after a stingily small sausage baguette (make a note everyone - their food is terrible!)

I strolled on to fly camp at Cessford Castle in the long grass at about 8:30pm. Cessford Castle is a wonderfully atmospheric spot with Ravens and the inevitable ghosts of the past conflicts for company. Interestingly, on the way there I actually fell asleep while walking along the road – coming to as I stumbled into the grass verge.

DAY 57 Byrness Campsite to Hen Hole

Today: 19 miles
Total so far: 826.6 miles
Percentage Completed: 49.5%

(Click map to enlarge)

Its a brutal start up the hill into the Cheviots from the Main Road, so we put it off as long as possible by taking on supplies of Bacon Butties and coffee, to ease any nagging doubts concerning fitness after last nights splendid, very late night with Ian.

The weather was very kind to us and we had excellent views all day. Possibly the best bit, depending upon your viewpoint, was seeing Morpeth disappear up to his thighs in bog.

We made slow but steady progress to the first emergency shelter for a late lunch and worked our way deliberately to Windy Gyle and and Auchope Cairn for fabulous views over the Cheviots and the Borders. By this time it was getting very cold, so we dropped down into the Hen Hole to camp.

(Morpeth, Doug & Croydon on Raven's Knowe, the Cheviots)

Everyone was bedded down quickly after a hard day. As I lay in my tent going to sleep I remembered my first try at the Cheviots with my brother with the hair thirty seven years ago and the awful slog it had been. Now it is slabbed in the worst spots and so it is just a question of fitness and stamina.

Today had been fabulous for me - I had felt super fit and had raced up the hills - the first time on the entire walk that I can honestly say I am finally firing on all eight cylinders!

(Looking north from The Schil, early evening, The Cheviots)

DAY 56: Bellingham to Byrness Campsite

Today: 14.7 miles
Total so far: 807.6 miles
Percentage Completed: 48.4%

(Click map to enlarge)

I am writing this gone 8:00pm at Ian's Picnic table at the campsite at Byrness. We have seen off Green King IPA export, Arran Gold, and another (sorry cannot remember) brought over by Mr Shiel. He then set a repast of cold meats, pies, salads and breads, all to be washed down with Ardbeg.

Today I have been walking with Doug, Mike, Croydon and Morpeth, and the walking has been good, over wild empty spaces and into the forest, that was cleared recently so all afternoon we had excellent views of tomorrow's walk over the Cheviots.

(Flowering Lichen -Growing on a stone wall after a vicious little ascent ( I was leaning against the wall to get my breath back!)

It seems to be warming up as the Ardbeg is flowing (in Edinburgh Crystal glasses, I'll have you know!) and just the two coats are fine. This is a wonderful eclectic little band, who rub along with one common love, the Great Outdoors. All will be on this year's Challenge in a few week's time - and barring disasters, all will be at Montrose at the finish, despite a huge list of ailments borne between them all. It's a mental thing, and this lot have the right qualifications!

DAY 55 Greenhead to Bellingham

Tuesday 24th April - posted Wednesday 25th
Today: 21.0 miles
Total so Far: 792.9 miles
Percentage Completed: 47.5%

(Click map to enlarge)

An early start from a cold, cold hostel at Greenhead. The washed underwear and woolly socks were still sopping wet, so stowed in the dirty clothes bag to add a few more ounces to the load.

Bob Garnett, a Challenger, met me last night at the pub and so we walked together along the switchback of Hadrian’s Wall - a complete beast of a walk in terms of effort and an absolute joy in terms of reward.

(Hadrians Wall)

As we rested at the point we left the wall, Bob produced a bottle of Newcastle Brown and lunch was taken, followed by a few nips of the good stuff.

The walk away from the wall was pure pleasure; soft underfoot, with wonderful views back to the Wall and big empty skies, occasionally split apart by HM Forces Jet Fighters. The wooded stretches were calming and soft on the senses, the moorland wild and empty.

We passed a Bonsai factory and then almost immediately afterwards bumped into a Ruth Archer character who was carrying a Harris Hawk - a beautiful animal with eyes that appear to see forever.

Walking up after Warks Burn (“staggering”, that should read) we bumped into Doug Cockburn sitting on a wall, on point, with his troup of Croydon, Morpeth and Mike Illingworth, slouching reluctantly behind.

Bless them; they had hiked all the way southwards from Bellingham (pronounced BellingJUM), so we stopped to sample a fine bottle of red that the magnificent Bob had carried all the way, followed by the remainder of his scotch.

(Left to Right: Bob, Doug, Morpeth, Croydon and Mike)

We scampered the rest of the way up over the amusingly named Shitlington Crags and then dropped down into town to sample deep baths and the cod in the Cheviot Hotel, with a few pints of Nels.

A big day; done!

DAY 54: Alston to Greenhead: Evening Report

Today: 16.4 miles
Total so far: 771.9 miles
Percentage Completed: 46.2%

(Click map to enlarge)

GUEST SPOT: Charlie - LEJOGer:

My god, what a day! Was very exited to meet Alan in Dufton as I've managed to get across the majority of England without meeting any other end to enders, and besides it was nice to meet someone who can drink almost as much real ale as I can.

We left Alston at the same time this morning, so it seemed sensible to walk together, especially as we'd both come to the conclusion that cheating slightly and following the South Tyne Way, rather than the Pennine way proper this morning was the best way forward. After the mist and rain of Cross Fell, the South Tyne which follows a nice little narrow gauge railway was a breath of fresh air, but after a few lunchtime pints it was time to go back to the Pennine Way and start a long slog through muddy farmland and an amusing amount of pure unadulterated bog.

A lot of the swampiest parts of the Pennine Way have had limestone slabs placed along them, but they didn't bother with this bit, and in the pouring rain and biting wind, this wasn't the most pleasant part of the journey so far. I was very pleased to have Alan along, as it meant I could stick my head down and follow his boots as we slogged across country.

Still, Greenhead has a very nice pub which called to us across the moor and we're both now warm, dry and slightly less smelly than we were. I just pity him tomorrow going all the way to Bellingham, while I do the short haul to Once Brewed.

DAY 54: Lunchtime Report

DAY 54: Alston to Greenhead
Lunchtime Report: Kirkstyle Inn, Knarsdale

Made it in time for a few pints of Geltsdale Hell Beck - a lovely dark red beer. I have arrived at this pleasant location just as a little shower came in from behind me - perfect timing.

I am being a train this morning; following the South Tyne Trail rather than the Pennine Way - which the National Trail guide freely admits is pretty boring. The old railway line eases the bones after yesterday's jolts down the long stoney road from Gregs Hut (that I missed)

I spent a bit of time with my GPS this morning, to see how I got in such a mess yesterday lunchtime off Cross Fell. My GPS is telling me I am 500m further north than I actually am, yet is spot on with the East/West location and altitude. Answers on a postcard? Its the first time I used the Bl***y thing on this walk and that 500m error caused me no end of problems!

Answers on a postcard please as to why it is doing this! A Crackerjack Pencil to someone who can help me sort the thing out, or it is being stamped on and being sent back to Garmin! (They can have a cabbage)

Charlie (the surprise Lejogger I met at Dufton) is walking with me just for today before we go our seperate ways - We have also just heard from the landlord that there is another Lejogger (Very Fit Bloke) who is a couple of days ahead of me. I doubt whether I will catch him!

Dufton Aside

John Hee again......

Alan's far too humble to mention his increasing following, so I'll let the pictures speak for themselves. Mostly.


They'll be more of this set of pictures.
Soon.
Unless a certain large charitable donation doesn't appear as promised. Ahem.


It's no use hiding behind that pack. We know a Naked Rambler when we see one.




Fame at last - as a centrefold.

DAY 53: Dufton to Alston

Today: 20.0 miles
Total so far 755.5 miles
Percentage completed: 45.2%

(Click map to enlarge)

Yesterday's day off was lovely - a day with Lynnie, sort of doing nothing (apart from meeting the Press for the Backpacker's Club to have a bit of a photo shoot - move over Daniella Westbrook: Male model coming through!)

Then lo & behold in the evening in the Stag at Dufton, we bumped into Bryan Crick (one of the Backpackers Club Lejoggers) and his wife. I had read Bryan’s book of his adventure before starting out on all this madness.

They in turn then introduced us to a lady, sitting all alone in the corner of the pub, who - wait for it - is actually doing her own LEJOG and had started out from Land's end a day after me!

Her name is Charlie - and she is going well.

I set off this morning and within three quarters of an hour was walking in cloud up Knock Fell, but my navigation was magnificent (not difficult as you follow the cairns...) However, coming off Cross Fell was a different matter. Let's just leave it as I was “navigationally challenged” for about an hour (slithering around on 45 degree running bog beneath scree slopes) and never finding Greg's Hut at all!

Eventually I sorted myself out - it was either that or spending the night on the hill. I spent six and a half hours walking in the clouds seeing no further than 20m. I finally made it down to Garrigill and stopped for a breather at the pretty little seat wrapped round the tree on the village green and noticed that the pub was open.

I didn't go in - I still had 4 miles to go to Alston - and if I had entered those hallowed portals I would still be there now.

I am in the privatised YHA at Alston - this is a Hostel that is run properly! The wonderful lady warden offered me a room of my own, an evening meal with a beer and made me welcome. Perhaps this is the way for the YHA to go?

I am just beginning to feel human again. I would love to do Cross Fell on a nice day - I have been there twice now in the last thirty two years and each time it has been grim!

Picture Post Update

John Hee here in my capacity as Alan's back office picture poster.

I've just dropped in with a quick update. Some of April's posts have now piccies to brighten them up even more.

So you've just got time to check out whether you've finally become part of the internet. Or whether Alan needs to delete that particular picture before someone finds out you were there when you shouldn't have been!

More details here
Day42

Day43

Day46

Day47

Day49

Day51

DAY 51: Langdon Beck to Dufton

Today: 12.5 miles
Total so far: 735.5 miles
Percentage Completed: 44.0%

(Click map to enlarge)

I left it until 10am to leave the hostel, as the cloud was down low but likely to improve slightly. I started in very misty moisty weather with two coats on and made careful progress following the pretty good waymarks, which makes a startling change in these parts! It was as well, as visibility was about 100 yards.

Working my way up Holmwath the cloud seemed to lift as I walked up the valley, so by the time I reached Falcon Clints I could see pretty well okay. Cauldron Snout impressed and I picked my way carefully up the slippery rocks to cross the bridge - a slip here would have pretty horrible consequences.

The route up to High Cup Nick is an absolute delight; good paths and a wonderful feeling of remoteness, even though you pass Birkdale Farm (now, there's a place if you want to get away from it all!)

I met a chap with two artificial hips who was getting along pretty well (he got down to Dufton before me, but that's not saying much!) and a couple who were trying out a route for their rambling group from the North Lakes who had just clambered out of the Nick of High Cup.

They were friends of Rowland Bowker, who has done the Challenge quite a few times and so I felt embarrassed in not knowing him - I shall make an effort to find the chap one day - as he has charming friends and so can't be all that bad himself!

The view from the Nick is quite splendid - you can almost see the glacier that carved its way down the valley. The Whinstone dolerite cliffs frame the view from every angle as you walk along the northern rim of the abyss. The scenery changes from wild moorland to pastoral beauty very quickly, with just Dufton Pike to remind you you are in hill country.

I am having my day off in Dufton and not Alston as it is far more sensible for Lynnie who is coming up for the weekend as I get to see her all of Saturday instead of half of Sunday which would have been the case if I had taken it at Alston.

Lynnie is battling her way up the M6 in my car as I type this and I am freshly bathed and handsome once more. How can she resist me?

DAY 50: Deepdale to Langdon Beck Youth Hostel

Thursday 19th April
Deepdale to Langdon Beck YH
(Posted the next day from Dufton)
Today: 17.5 miles
Total so far: 723.0 miles
Percentage completed: 43.3%

(Click map to enlarge)

The wind got up a bit in the night and Wanda Warmlite started to misbehave. She got all jittery and so I snapped in her internal restraints (cross bracing for the large diameter hoop) and things calmed down noticeably. I should also have pegged out the rear guy lines that brace her rear hoop but it was blowing a hooley out there and I was all snug inside so I let her backside wobble a bit!

So it was a bumpy night and when I finally got away in the morning I was slightly bleary-eyed. It was a bit of a trudge passing the reservoirs.

At Hannah Hauxwell’s idyllic meadow I had quite a frightening moment with a farmer's hound that looked like a cross between pit-bull, Rottweiler and Labrador: a leathery brown short haired athletic affair that vaulted the wall where his owner stood ineffectively whistling for the beast to come back to him. The dog ran full tilt straight at me and pulled up at the last moment as I swung my rucksack off my shoulder so I could get a better kick at the animal. It was an incredibly tense few moments. Lots of teeth, muscle and sinew all trying to tear me to shreds.

One tried and missed drop goal attempt later and with me shouting at the beast and its stupid owner, it ran back to the oaf, clearing the wall in one leap. No apology was offered. I have noted down the farm and will be speaking to the RSPCA about it when I return home. That animal was incredibly dangerous and this is a National Trail! His owner should be castrated publicly with a sign hung round his neck saying "I have a tiny dick."

By contrast, Middleton-in-Teesdale was a delightful spot. I arrived in good time to send completed guide books and maps home, buy postcards and arrive at the hotel for a few pints of Pedigree and a cauliflower soup, held firmly in place with ham sandwiches. The company in the bar was friendly and I noted that the accents (to my really bad ear) seemed to be slipping towards Geordie.

I was given the best place to buy pork and beef & gravy pies, which was shut so I settled for the second best pies and the barmaid donated some packets of mustard for my afternoon tea by Low Force. I liked Middleton - it has everything a walker and local could want and sits perfectly in its valley.

Everyone will tell you about the waterfalls and wildlife of the River Tees, but what struck me most was the Whinsill on the south of the river, hugely dominant and magnificent. It is also responsible for the Falls along the river and the quarry further up.

I had the south side of the river all to myself apart from one very rude fat walker who was bowling down a steep narrow section of the path in the opposite direction, poles flailing ineffectually. Now I don't know about you, but when I see a chap laden down with a dirty great rucksack coming up the hill towards me, I always but always move to one side to let the poor soul pass, before I carry on down the hill, grateful that I was going downhill.

Not so for this fat oaf. He bowled down, actually prodding my foot with the sharp end of his ridiculous pole at the end of his podgy arm, and actually bumping me off the track! Again, no apology offered. Incredible. I hope his thighs chafe and he gets lice in all his sweaty crevices.

So - a 'two oafs' day! I think the first two of the entire walk that I can think of! Not bad in 50 days of the trip. I shall try and be calm. It's not good for the blood pressure.

Tonight, I quite amazingly managed to get myself a berth in the Langdon Beck Youth Hostel. The very kind lady at the Middleton Tourist Office booked me in on-line. However, when I arrived here, the warden was quite surprised to see me. He thought he was going to be all alone tonight and seemed to be quite put out that I had arrived to spoil his evening. I showed him the confirmation of booking print-out, and he gave me my room - a compact but bijoux little two bunk room. The shower was good, but the warden did not want to do a meal, so I had one of my freeze-dried jobs. He has not lit the fire, even though he said he would.

The YHA should send their wardens on a B&B landlady hospitality course. The landladies seem to have it right. They always answer their phones, make you feel welcome and go the extra mile to make you almost part of the family.

But, on the positive side, they do serve beer here. Two very nice bottles of organic pale ale so far. I think I might have another, to fortify myself for tomorrow’s endeavours as Lynnie has just told me that the weather for crossing over to Dufton tomorrow looks pretty grim. I arrived here this afternoon in a cold claggy bit of rain that was getting more and more steady. It looks like its here to stay for a while. Ho hum!

No phone signal here this evening and so this will probably get sent from Dufton tomorrow night (If there's a signal there!)

DAY 49: Evening Report

Today: 12.5 miles
Total so far: 705.5 miles
Percentage Completed: 42.2%

(Click on map to enlarge)

I am camped up just to the north of Deepdale Beck, having crossed the A66.

Wanda Warmlite is all snug and everything inside is in its place. Dinner has been chicken with rice washed down with a fine Cap Colombie. The sun is shining through the wall of the tent and all is fine.

The little difficulty I had had with the YHA was on account of it having been closed, but no-one telling BT who still let the phones ring... Ho hum!

Rather than walk down the road ,which had been my original plan, I took to the moor. The walking over Sleightholme Moor is wonderful - springy peaty turf - but I remember the horrors of 30 years ago, walking with my friend Bob Butler, when it was raining and it was a morass. Looking at it now, I think the path used to be on the southern bank of Frumming Beck, but I reckon that after a bit of rain it could still be a nightmare. I am just a lucky chap it has stayed dry for a while.

Bob has also pointed out that last time we passed, like drowned rats, the pub was shut. It is now a fine emporium, but still has Ted Moult's double glazing, including the incredibly tacky front door.

Inside is another matter - a feisty landlady with dogs and baby lambs running around to entertain. The Blacksheep was excellent and so I stayed for a couple of hours. The fire was warm and the company good.

The views today were top drawer: But you do have to like moorland. It's MAMBA country: Miles And Miles of Bugger All.

Outside the Curlews and Peewits are calling, with grouse and surprisingly, the occasional pheasant. It is quite, quite perfect.

DAY 49 Lunchtime Report

DAY 49: Lunchtime Report
Tan Hill Inn: "The Highest Pub in Britain"

The walk up here from Keld is way past every expectation from a cursory perusal of the map. The views slowly open out to encompass Great Shunner Fell to the south, Nine Stndards Rigg off to the west, and I am SURE (honestly) I could make out Cross Fell way to the north; but that could be my wild imaginations.

Yesterday, as I was nearing the top of Great Shunner Fell, the tadpolers told me that an hour or so ahead of me there was a fellow Pennine Wayer taking a break in the shelter, and that he had had a bout of tummy trouble and was quite surprised that he had not met another soul traveling north on the Way. Despite redoubling my efforts, I did not make contact with him, but heard this morning in Keld that a Pennine Way walker had taken quite poorly during the evening and had called out help - and the same policemen I had seen in the morning had located him wandering confused in the village and had hoiked him off to hospital.

Let's all hope he is okay - it must be pretty ghastly being all alone and unwell.

It also turns out that the police prescence in Hardraw had been for quite a violent disorder!

Ah - Just Like Hemingford Abbots...

I am not sure where I shall be stopping tonight - One place had the builders in and the Youth Hostel... you have guessed it - never even answered the phone, and that was ringing about a dozen times. Unbelievable really. No wonder they are in trouble.

DAY 48: Hawes to Keld

DAY 48: Tuesday 17th April
Hawes to Keld (Sent 18th April from Tan Hill Inn)
Today: 12.9 miles
Total so far: 693.0 miles
Percentage Completed: 41.5%

(Click map to enlarge)

Leaving good friends is always hard, and after being looked after royally for four nights I feel sad to be leaving Rick & Lindsey. Nothing was too much trouble for them to make my stop-overs perfect. What with them, Russ, Rachael, Michael & Janet – I am being spoiled rotten!

But the Pennine Way has to be continued and I stride out to Hardraw and pay my two pounds to walk up to the falls. And very pretty they are too. On leaving the Green Dragon, two busfulls of the local constabulary arrive. I make a hasty get-away to the Tea-Room almost next door to review my options.

Perhaps they had spotted me sneaking behind the waterfall? Maybe I had spent too long at the foot of the falls and would be be charged with loitering with a tent? I mull over my escape plan with a coffee and flapjack and decide it is best to leg it into the next valley - there might be immunity there.

I positively dash up Great Shunner Fell and near the top meet an engaging couple with a plastic bag full of water and tadpoles they had rescued from a drying pool to transport to a larger more permanent pool lower down the ridge. The frogs further up in the peat hags are truly massive and keep eyeballing me. Perhaps they knew of my Hardraw misdemeanours?

Luncheon is taken at the top, in the corner of the shelter and as it was getting quite cold it was a rushed affair - not my usual leisurely repast.

After first a boggy then a stony descent, more coffee, cake and beer is consumed at Thwaite and then I press on to a glorious traverse on the steep slopes above the Swale on the way to Keld.

It is strange walking on my own after four days of being with friends, but at the same time there are more moments to just stand and take it all in quietly; watching the cloud shadows race over the opposite fell and stand watching a pair of skylarks chase each other in the sand of the path.

DAY 47: Horton in Ribblesdale to Hawes

Today: 14.0 miles
Total so far: 680.1 miles
Percentage Completed: 40.7%

(Click map to enlarge)

Not a bad day at all. If every day is like this it will be a doddle. I walk it with Rick Smith.

(This is Rick Smith - superstar)

He has a dodgy foot and is trying different sock combinations, but even with his dodgy foot he is a country mile ahead of me as I am still tying my laces. We stroll (at my pace) up the hills into moorland in the mist and the serenity of the place is absolute. We meet D of E groups all having a good time and luncheon at a spot with good views and dramatic cloudscapes. The Ribblehead viaduct is viewed floating in the distance.

As we leave Ten End the way is grassy and little springs bubble at the side of the path. All around the dry-stone walls and field barns make up the patchwork of the landscape, with Great Shunner fell dominating in the distance.

We try a couple of the Black Sheep ales in the pub and write the postcards, which is tricky after the first (Riggwelter, at something like 6%) but easier after the second at a piffling 3.8% as Lindsey joins us to transport us back to paradise at Austwick.

Baths are drawn, wives telephoned and dinners demolished. The washing machine is again working overtime. R & L have been fabulous hosts and Lindsey especially - for going above and beyond and purchasing a tub of vaseline for a chap's delicate little places.

They will drop me off back at Hawes tomorrow morning so I will head off into the great unknown: More of 'The North.' But for now, I will do my level best to help the excellent Rick in his endeavours to polish off the '66 port.

DAY 46: Malham to Horton in Ribblesdale

Today: 15.1 miles
Total so Far: 666.1 miles
Percentage Completed: 39.9%

(Click map to enlarge)

We arrive at Malham on time for Heather (who is walking with Phil, Tini & me) and she arrives promptly as a wonderful woman should. So, we walk up the road, spurning her local advice to walk along the pretty riverside and make it successfully to the cove. Phantasmagorical. (Let's see if Stu Savory's spellchecker catches that one! - Sorry Stu!)

We clamber up to the clints & grikes and take pictures. It is a paradise; a karst landscape beyond your Geography Teacher's Dreams (the capitals are very important here.)

We stroll all day through fine weather albeit with a slight petrochemical haze (thank you for the explanation, Waggy) and have leisurely stops scoffing Rick's sandwiches and having boot-breaks to die for.

(Tini & Heather gorging themselves!)

Heather teaches me about peregrines, wheatears and small owls as we make our way inevitably up Fountains Fell and then to the base of Pen-y-Ghent, where Lord Elpus gallantly accompanies Miss Whiplash down to Horton as Heather leads me gingerly up the two giant steps of the monster.

We arrive at Hilary's Step (sorry, that should read Shirley's Step) (readers of PeeWiglet’s Pennine Way diary will understand this - keep up at the back) and Heather steps through it like a mountain goat and hauls me through - mentally and physically.

(Heather on top of Pen-y-Gent)

It was worth it. There were children, small dogs, parakeets and the occasional pet elephant who had managed it to the top, so my minor triumph felt belittled. I let this huge personal problem pass as I sank the last of Rick's sandwiches and Lindsey's cake, and we made our way down to the Crown (marked as the New Inn on the map)

And now, safely back at Rick & Lindsey’s, the Warres 66 port is going down well, and Lord Elpus is fast asleep on the lazyboy, grinning and dribbling slightly as he recreates Tini’s fantasies of the night before.

Tomorrow is another day....

DAY 45 Rest Day Part 2

DAY 45: Rest Day: 2nd Report

Drinking 73 year old Armagnacs with a Dutchgirl, a Vulcanologist, a leather fetishist, a dapper minor royal, potential bigamist and all round wonderful girl who sands down garden furniture, does cooking, cleaning and all the electrical jobs in the village while her husband to be is choosing bottles from the cellar is an unusual experience.

We talk about Waggy and Michael, and all the people met so far on my walk. The discussion reverts to Waggy at every turn. The man is a living legend: Morris Man, Musician, Piano Rebuilder, Engineer, Collector, Brewer, and All Round Wonderful Man. Raconteur. Michael and Janet are his soul-mates and preserve this British Work Of Art. (The capitals are important here)

Maria leans over my shoulder and reads this to the others (this is a real time blog, after all said and done). Her hot breath on my shoulder.... And Stuart is sitting next to her so this will stop here.

I realise that I am the ony one with a glass in my hand : Admittedly it is a fine glass and the contents are to die for.

It is to slow me down for tomorrow. What the reader is not probably aware of is that these wonderful people are all Challengers; they are all getting on a bit, and know the perils of alcohol, and its efects on the unwary. (Me)

It is early in the evening so I shall carry on to see if they get more beautiful and I get more handsome.

DAY 45: Rest Day, Austwick

DAY 45
Rest Day: Malham (Astwick, actually)

The Velez jacket has been washed and reproofed (I think there was more of me in that jacket before washing it than there was me out of the jacket) and so it is now perfumed and wonderful again.

I have mown Rick & Lindsey's lawns (Note the plural, this is a magnificent place) and commandeered the washing machine and bathroom for twentyfour hours. I have downloaded the entire contents of the PDA and camera onto the laptop for safe-keeping.

Phil, Tini & Rick went for a long walk: Phil carrying full Challenge pack and they came back cherry-red. Brave chaps.

Stuart & Maria Scott have just arrived for Dinner. I last saw them in Devon when they came over to the pub for the evening. The evening is warm, sunny and all the jobs are done for the day. This promises to be a bit of a party! Oo Err! (And a big day tomorrow...)

Miss Whiplash is getting changed and Lord Elpus is looking dapper. Stuart & Maria are impeccable as usual. Rick is in his shorts, but has taken off his Antarctic Wellies.

Sartorial Standards are being observed.

DAY 44: Thornton in Craven to Malham

Today: 10.6 miles
Total so Far: 651.0 miles
Percentage Completed: 39.0%

(Click map to enlarge)

GAGA IN GARGRAVE:

We wandered, lonely as clouds along the Pennine Way, espying hosts of daffodils along the way. The truth was we had had a few more than we had expected in the lunchtime house, as we only had a few miles to do in the afternoon. Two lunches later, and having had Tony Hardman's 15 year old Glenfiddich with our second luncheon we were sprawled on the river bank alongside the River Aire.

Rick had organised to meet us at five at the Lister Arms at Malham, but at five, Waggy, Mike & I were to be found waking from our slumbers on the riverbank - Ratty, Mole & Badger, still miles away from the Wild Wood… Ooh dear! However!

I know it is late. I know I need my bed. I know I need to do my washing, but Rick is pouring 1975 vintage ports and Lindsey is trying to control Rick.

She is a woman of wisdom. Rick is a man of charm and dedication to pleasure. Phil (Lord Elpus) and Tini (Miss Whiplash) have been disporting their debauched intentions, but Rick needs to know the time of Breakfast.

Waggy, by now, will be leaving the Admiral; his squeezebox strapped to his chest. Mike will be wiping down the soot from his greenhouse.

And life goes on. As it should.

Tomorrow is another day.

DAY 44: Lunchtime Report

DAY 44: Thornton to Malham
Lunchtime Report: Mason's Arms, Gargrave

A beautiful saunter this morning beneath watery sunshine, walking over carpets of celandines and closely cropped lush green grass, with the views opening slowly to us as we head for the Mason's Arms. We arrive as the door opens and are welcomed in, boots and all to try the Copper Dragon Ale, a beautiful pale golden, fresh tasting pint.

This is a big day; over ten miles and so we are taking it steadily, we shall pace ourselves and work our way through the landlord's list.

It was a late night last night and so today is the perfect 'post Admiral Lord Rodney' day: Michael says it is a magically situated pub on the right ley-lines. No head aches, no passes. Waggy is talking about his pipework again, so all is well with the world.

DAY 43: Ponden to Thornton in Craven

Today: 11.4 miles
Total so far: 640.4 miles
Percentage Completed: 38.3%

(Click map to enlarge)

A walk with Waggy & Michael always has its pitfalls. Today's were Michael & Waggy: Lovely boys but nightmares! We walked over Ickonshore Moor & I learned about the benefits of 1 inch and three-quarter inch plumbing linking to your solid fuel boiler from Waggy as Michael strode ahead getting further & further away.

(the famous duo of Waggy & Michael, on top of Ickornshaw Moor)

We had a spot of tea amongst the soft bogs as the curlew and wheatear were all about us.

The first pub had been turned into a furniture showroom (they make furniture for the London Dealing Rooms amongst other stuff, which was distressing to find in the middle of Yorkshire) and so we pressed on to the next pub - the Hare & Hounds at Lothersdale: An interesting place where customers are grudgingly welcomed after buying a dozen pints and then told to sup up and sit outside.

The weather outside (rather than inside, the pub) was pretty damn good so we made our way up to the top of the next hill; Pinhaw, to find two delightful girls: Sarah & Rachael, who were loitering around at the trig point. We approached carefully as we are vulnerable: Over 50, away from the control of any sensible women and tired and emotional after a nice lunch.

Waggy whipped out his organ and we all danced around the trig point to Waggy's Wild Tunes (the capitals are important here) and we polished off the bottles of red we had carried up there and the girls accepted my pervert's toffees, even with the trouser pocket lint glued to the wrappers.

We had “Stripped the Willow”, and so thought that it was time to go, as Janet was ready to collect us to take us back to Chicken and Baked potatoes with gravy.

I am now in the The Admiral Lord Rodney - a popular slave trader - with wonderful tiled walls and a superb collection of regulars - all larger than life and very welcome any time back at the Axe & Compass.

DAY 42: Hebden Bridge to Ponden

Today: 12.5 miles
Total so far: 629.0 miles
Percentage Completed: 37.7%

(Click map to enlarge)

There are some days when you don't have much of a say in it. Today was such a day. The company was terrible: My brother with the hair accompanied me for the day so I distinguished myself with some crap map reading in Hebden Bridge to find our way back to the Pennine Way. We found it eventually.

(Brother Dave (with the hair) being Heathcliffe at Top Withins)

We then found an excellent emporium selling everything a Pennine Rambler could wish for - so four cans were purchased along with comestibles for the day.The weather was perfect and then we found a pub. Three pints of Black Sheep sorted most things out and we got to discussing old girlfriends. I will leave it there, as Debbie and Lynnie read this blog.

We spent another lazy hour leaning against a wire fence overlooking the reservoirs, polishing off some cans. The ground was earthy and soft and bent beneath our feet and recovered as we passed over it. We were soon at Top Withins discussing Chick Lit with an American couple from St Louis.

Brother Dave left me as Waggy whisked me away to Mike's for a washing machine, shower and dinner.

A perfick day.

DAY 41: Bleak Hey Nook to Hebden Bridge: Evening Report

Today: 16.4 miles
Total so far: 616.5 miles
Percentage Completed: 36.9%

(Click map to enlarge)

The afternoon's walk along the reservoirs is quite splendid and with Tony's farewell bidding of "Tight Laces," I whizz along until the Timothy Taylors forces a premature stop. Stoodley Pike beckons in the distance but never seems to get any closer and when I finally make it to the base of the monument the wind is so fierce it actually knocks me over - twice.

I beetle away and head the very long way down to the town to sit on the bench and take the place in. Its an absorption process; the longer I sit there the more I enjoy the place. I reckon if I sit here all day I will be more Hebden Bridge than Alan Sloman, and tourists will flock to my boots and buy postcards of my new beardy stuff. Coach companies will start including me on their itineraries.

I try an Italian for supper with a carafe of red, to make a change from the barrels of beer consumed so far on the trip. The Italian is run by Poles, with a Thai waitress, eastern European chef and a few Italians to help out. Regardless of all that, its a smashing place and highly recommended.

DAY 41: Lunchtime Report

DAY 41: Bleak Hey Nook to Hebden Bridge
Lunch time Report: The White House

Started the walk in cloud again along Standedge; a bit of a depressing start to the day, but as soon as I started heading away from the edge, the clouds started to lift to give glimpses of wide open moorland with curlew calling overhead.

I bowled along and on reaching the M62 wanted to stand and watch the mayhem below, but only managed a few moments as the wind was so strong and this time had some rain thrown in for good measure.

It soon eased and I was on top of Blackstone Edge sipping coffe with Tony Hardman - a Challenge hero of mine who in '97 had pulled me out of a river on the way up to Bealach Dubh in the foulest of weather.

So we are now comfortably situated in the White House Inn, tucking in to a few pints of Timothy Taylor to be bedded down with a steak sandwich.

It doesn't get much better than this - with a sensible afternoon in store to wander over to Hebden Bridge.

DAY 40: Crowden to Bleak Hey Nook

Today: 12.4 miles
Total so far: 600.1 miles
Percentage Completed: 35.9%

(Click map to enlarge)

I woke up to drizzle on the Wendy House; so had stewed apple and custard for breakfast to cheer me up. The hills were shrouded in cloud so I plugged away up to Laddow Rocks on the pretty dreadful rubbly path and made it to the top pretty breathless. I wonder when this fitness thing will kick in?

The guide promises wonderful views, but the cloud and wind means hats and hoods on and peering through the gap into the murk; Probably as well as I think the drops down to the right are formidable and I don't have a great head for heights. Then out of the clouds appear Richard Smith & Dave Beaumont coming from the north.

They have woken up at some ungodly hour and walked south to meet up with me. Wonderful chaps!

We scuttle along and in no time at all we are on top of Black Hill and in what seems like moments later we are at Snoopy’s snack caravan at Wessenden Head where I gobble up a bacon sandwich and two cups of coffee sitting on a chair! (albeit in the wind & rain)

We set off once more and are soon in a deep gulley where Richard produces two bottles of Timothy Taylor Landlord and two glasses! A super drop and we go our separate ways, me up another hill into the murk and Richard and Dave back to their warm fires and armchairs.

However, the struggle is soon over and I am welcomed into a splendid B&B (Wellcroft House) with tea and cakes and a lovely chat about the Pennine Way, which they did quite a few years ago. Lovely people.

DAY 39 Edale to Crowden

Today: 16.9 miles
Total so far: 587.7
Percentage Completed: 35.2%

(Click map to enlarge)

I am camped at Crowden Campsite - I couldn't be doing with all the fuss of trying to book youth hostels - they never answer the phone or they are all full.

It is Easter Holiday and the place is packed with exuberant kids (and parents) but I am two pints down and have rung all the potential walkers for the next few days so all jobs are done!

Today's walk has probably been done by you all, but it was a first for me - once the slog of getting to the top of Kinder is over (with a full rucksack) it is really plain sailing, but it does get a bit lengthy towards the end, dropping down Torside Clough.

Really lucky with the weather again - fine but a bit misty to start with and then a sharp wind to keep you moving.

I stopped for lunch just past Doctors Gate and got down out of the wind and had an interesting chat with a Lancastrian gent in his elder years, who in his time had just about done the lot. His last Big One was the Tour de Mont Blanc with his friend, but in his best years had done the winter gullies on the Ben. Sadly he thought that those days were now long gone and he is going to miss them. But this chap has such memories - and they will always be with him and his friends. He will never have to sit back and think "If only..."

I left him feeling I had met someone special.

No sooner had I got going when I bumped into Viv Pike with her brother, in training for the 100 miles bash in Wales (which is just two days before her TGO Challenge; very brave!)

A splendid day. The tent is now disciplined. Everything has at last found its place. All is well with the world.

DAY 38: Rest Day, Edale (Sent from Crowden)

DAY 38: Edale, Rest Day

I sit in the Nags Head watching walkers in shorts and tee-shirts stride out for the fells. It is a lovely feeling watching someone else making the effort for a change.

I visit the excellent new Moorland Visitor Centre, replete with waterfall and moorland roof and excellent host / manager. It is an excellent place and I find some of the exhibits fascinating - there is more on the carbon store of the blanket bogs that the chaps I met on the Offa's Dyke were researching, and lots on the wildlife and the people who live and work on and around the moors - a true insight into life in the area rather than the anodyne effort at Knighton.

The chap running the place is an enthusiast and sets up the 45 minute film on the Pennine Way for me to watch and finds me a (free) accommodation list, with the accommodation listed in the correct order!

The camp-sites are packed and just about every accent from Britain is heard in the pub. This is a tourist hot-spot that has got it spot on - it is welcoming, informative and sits in one of the prettiest places in England.

I am now just back from the Nags, and have called Lynnie from the Phone Box - she related an interesting postscript to Jonny's Broken Leg drama:

As he was laying there beside his skip, a lady walked past walking her dog. He beseeches her to pop into his house, telling her where the phone was, so she could call an ambulance.

The lady disappeared inside, but after twenty minutes or so, did not re-appear. Jonny started calling for help - getting increasingly desperate. Eventually his neighbour appears and summons help and then goes into Jonny's house to find the woman - who it transpired had Alzheimer's and had no idea why she was in this strange house...

Jonny is in hospital having his leg rebuilt at the moment.

Get well Jonny!

DAY 37: Bollington to Edale: Evening Report

(Posted from Crowden)
Today: 16.0 miles
Total so far: 570.8 miles
Percentage Completed: 34.2%

(Click map to enlarge)

I fairly raced up Rushup Edge to magnificent views over the White & Dark Peaks. It is a magnificent airy spot with good springy turf beneath the boots. Cars litter the road below like discarded toffee papers, catching the sun. It is Good Friday and there must be hundreds of walkers out on the hills but they are swallowed up by the sheer scale of the place.

On the way down I pass several Duke of Edinburgh groups, all cheery and having a great time together, even when laden down with all their camping gear, struggling up to Hollins Cross.

Edale is like an old shoe - sort of battered and scuffed but it still fits like a glove. The Old Nags Head does a roaring trade and the reluctant barman of my last visit is now in his element and a dramatically different person. He must have been having a bad day last time we were here. I try the Grays again, but opt for the fruitier Nags Head, more of a hoppy squash with a bit more oomph.

There is no signal for my phone from here, so I don't know where this will be posted from.

A Rest Day tomorrow too, so you will just have to wait.

DAY 37: Lunchtime Report

DAY 37: Bollington to Edale
Lunchtime Report
The New Inn, Chapel en le Frith

I am walking this morning with a self-confessed gear head. (She is wearing Paramo; QED)

Gayle.

Seems like a nice girl, but totally bonkers. Is going to do her own Lejog next year and, a little like me, does not really know why. Has a good steady job in the real world, yet is going to chuck it all in and take three months off to do it.

The sun is shining, yet we are indoors in an indifferent pub that doesn't do food. And she was up at SIX o'clock this morning to come walking with me. However, I am on my second pint of Robinson's Unicorn and we are listening to High Peak Radio. Does life really get better than this?

Gayle's Bit:
It's not often that I start my day with rail staff trying to put me onto the wrong train all in an effort to meet up with a complete stranger to go for an amble through the countryside. But, a better day could not have have been chosen - blue skies, expansive views - I'm not used to walking in these conditions.

We've done lanes and countryside, with increasing views towards the Peaks, in order to arrive in Chapel-en-le-Frith for a swift pint. Alas, after short day of fine views and excellent company, I'll be leaving Alan at this point to do battle with our railway system to get back to somewhere in the vicinity of home, from where I will continue counting the days until my own LEJOG attempt next year. Can't wait!

DAY 36: Rudheath to Bollington: Evening Report

Today: 20.2 miles
Total so far: 554.8 miles
Percentage Completed: 33.2 %

(Click map to enlarge)

What a difference after lunch: I came out of the pub to struggling sunshine and the afternoon turned into a wonderful warm Spring day. I struggled up the hill to Alderley Edge - the whole area beautifully manicured and loved - so unlike the Northwich area of this morning. People seemed to be smiley and out in their gardens.

Granted, the disposable income in an area like this is massively different, but the people I met were the older, grandparent generation, in very normal little semis; they just seemed to be happier.

I had my first iced lolly of the year in the picnic area at the top and then strolled through rolling countryside, down through Prestbury (very Posh, big houses, all having the builders in to make them bigger and posher) and finally to Bollington - a shaggy little village with two huge aqueducts that tower above you as you walk in.

By the time I got here my feet were aching like hell again - the result of two days of over twenty miles on roads. I am looking forward to the Pennine Way, just to get off roads and back on to good black soft earth, of which, I seem to recall, there is an abundance, especially when it rains...

I am staying at a pub owned by the villagers and it is absolutely buzzing - a nice pint of Black Sheep a carnivore's lasagne on its way; for the protein. With chips; for the carbohydrate. No salad; I did that healthy stuff at lunchtime.

So: About One third of the walk done and still on schedule and in reasonably good order.

I heard tonight from Lynnie that a neighbour of mine back home has bust his leg quite badly (he reads the blog from time to time too) - so chin up Jonny - get yourself a bell and ring it so that Erica can bring you whiskies and chocolate cake on demand. What on earth were you doing in a skip anyway?

DAY 36: Lunchtime Report

DAY 36: Rudheath to Bollington
Lunchtime Report
The Egerton Arms, Chelford

It is a cold and misty morning with not a lot to see. Farmers are busy rushing around in their tractors pulling huge muck-spreaders behind them. I crossed the M6 motorway and stood and watched for a few moments as the whole of Britain seemed to charge beneath my bridge, supposedly separated by two chevrons.

They all have somewhere pressing to get to at all costs. I feel strangely alienated from this culture - an outsider looking over the parapet at an unreal world. My world is in the bubble that the mist allows me and it seems okay.

I arrive at the pub as they are opening the doors. It is a big place - a town pub out in the country. A strange place, but with a good selection of beers. The Theakstons bitter was okay - I shall try their Black Sheep next. There is the relentless background music playing away; nothing to offend or challenge, nothing to celebrate either. It is desperately trying not to offend at all costs and in doing so has become sterile and plastic, which is a shame as the staff are warm, friendly and efficient. They deserve better.

Ten miles or so to do this afternoon if I can get my body to get up & go - it seems to have got up and gone without me at the moment. Perhaps this black sheep will sort it out. It must be the weather...

DAY 35: Chester to Rudheath: Evening Report

Today: 21.6 miles
Total so far: 534.6 miles
Percentage Completed: 32.0%

(Click map to enlarge)

The afternoon was a doddle - a nice ramble through Cheshire. The sandstone ridge is really gorgeous. On arriving at Northwich, it is the nice end of town. You drop down to the wonderful old revolving truss bridge and into the High Street.

What on earth were the planners thinking of in the sixties? The resultant mess is a sad indictment of muddled thinking, leaving little for the residents to take pride in. The housing stock is of poor quality and there is an air of deprivation. This is not manifested in the cars that are driven around, but more in body language and general demeanour.

I would not want to bring my family up in a place like this.

Having said all that, my Guest House is warm and friendly: An oasis, in a sea of tat.

DAY 35: Lunchtime Report

DAY 35: Lunchtime Report
The Tigers Head Inn, Norley

I am now the right side of a home-made tomato soup and a pint of Burton.

It's a beautiful day and the Delamere Forest was calm and full of birdsong this morning. Its on sandstone and so it was lovely to walk along sunken sandy tracks amongst the trees. 21.5 km done this morning and just 13 km to do this afternoon, so I shall lean back and relax in this fine establishment.

It has been good to be heading slightly north of east rather than the south east as I have been for the last two days.

Gayle emailed me prior to me setting off on this walk and this morning she was back in touch. We had a quick chat to arrange to meet on Friday morning so we could meet and walk some of the way to Edale with me. She will be doing her own LEJOG next year and so it will be fascinating to meet her.

I want to find out why she is doing it. I haven't really worked out, deep down, why I am doing this myself. I had all sorts of things that came together and it ended up with me where I am now, so I am intrigued and will be asking her what is driving her walk!

I believe that "I'm so Dave' never quite worked out why he was doing his Lejog - he just did it. I am sort of in his camp, though with one or two 'reasons' to bolster it.

The beef sandwich is on its way now and a pint of Brakespears to wash it down. I am looking out onto a beautiful Spring day, with the smell of freshly mown grass drifting through the front door as a herd of elderly ramblers burst into the pub.

The hedgerows this morning were at last coming into leaf, and the dandelions basked in the sunshine beneath them. The daffodils are at last on their way out. The seasons are moving on as I am moving north.

Chester seems to have sorted me out and I am feeling 'up for it' again.

I liked Chester, I think, as a place: I just felt it was a bit too close to Liverpool for its own good.

DAY 34: Chester Rest Day

DAY 34: Chester,Rest Day
The Victoria: Lunchtime Report

513 miles done and it is finally catching up with me. I woke up late this morning and just made it downstairs in time for the last breakfast.

I have a shoulder. I am not sure why, but it started aching a few days back and last night it was a pig so I dosed it up with some Voltarol and a few pints. It is now back down to being just achey.

I am going to look at how I am loading the pack; I think it must be lopsided. Can' t complain though - the feet are standing up to it (touch wood), the legs are strong and I am feeling perky again.

I spent all morning being Mr Toad in his washer-woman's disguise. My fingers are still all wrinkly from washing the tights, shirt, gilet and all the socks. The bathroom is like a Chinese Laundry.

I have sent home various bits of kit that are no longer required (the second first aid kit as I can now fit it all into one, with the drugs mountain slowly being eaten into). Home went the mini-tripod - used only once anyway, and lots of paperwork now all finished with.

The boots: Potential disaster. As I was scrubbing them in the handbasin, I noticed that the left boot has a tiny hole at the junction of the tongue and the toe, where the leather is really soft and thin, to make the fold comfortable. It is only tiny, but when scrubbing away I noticed that my hand that was inside the boot was getting wet.

So, I have bought some superglue to plug the gap. I can't have damp tootsies!

I have not been to Chester before - it is like a big version of Cambridge, but without the colleges but with a lot more of the 'tracky bottoms and trainers' brigade. Not a hint of a Welsh accent here and only a couple of miles from the border. To my uneducated ear (I often mistake Irish for Scots) they all sound like characters from 'Brookside.'

The characters from Brookside seemed to dress better.

DAY 33: Carmel to Chester: Evening Report

Today: 19.3 miles
Total so far: 513 miles
Percentage Completed: 30.7%

(Click map to enlarge)

Flint: A bit like Prestatyn, Welshpool and Crediton. Places full of love and joy.

When you leave Flint you are at least met by Connah's Quay - a place more honest in its endeavours to be the world's centre of power production, steel making and the roundabout for the universe. It is a buzzing place that has reason to be.

You soon leave it behind as you follow the National Cycle Route Number 5 (sounds awfully “Five Year Plan”, comrades) across the Dee on a fine arched steel set of trusses and out into the countryside on the route for Chester. It is a metalled track all the way and hard on the feet, but the afternoon is broken up by a nice chat with three young lads pushing their bikes as one had a puncture, and then, at the defaced sign welcoming you to England, two young girls - one trying to teach the other to throw stones - with spectacularly unsuccessful, hilarious results.

Lots of dog walkers, but two stick in my mind - two large young men with pug ugly fighting dogs on fat leather straps pulling them along. I was not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing I had seen. At least they were getting fresh air, and they were keeping their owners from brawling in the streets.

I was so exhausted when I finally found my bed for the night that the socks are still stewing on the bathroom floor with the windows wide open and door tightly shut on them. They can wait until the morning.

I need my rest day tomorrow: I am totally knackered here!

DAY 33 Lunchtime Report

DAY 33: Lunchtime Report
The Royal Oak, Flint.

A beautiful sunny day and sitting in the pub with no ash-trays. Yes - Still in Wales and the No Smoking Ban has started.

The regulars are stoical about it, and the pub feels clean. There is an enormously fat chap at the bar, sitting on a substantial bar stool that disappears into his backside. He fancies himself as he has a shaved head and wears..... training shoes and tracky bottoms.

In fact, virtually the entire clientele is wearing the same outfit. The speakers are banging out disco style pulp crap music, slightly too loud.

It is wonderful.

A mention for last night's B&B in Carmel - Celyn Villa. The husband is a bit of a star. At an early age he cycled (twice) to Turkey by different routes and still has his passport with all the border stamps - including (I think) Albania, where his bicycle was stamped in the passport in and out of the country, just in case any import laws were flouted in that weird Communist economy.

I was speaking with him about Prestatyn and the shock of it all. He asked if I had ever been to Rhyll, just to west along the coast. Apparently that makes Prestatyn look like Cannes in comparison.

Lord Elpus provided the translation this morning to the handy Welsh phrases to help me get to the front in the queue at the Welsh bars. Thankfully I did not have recourse to use them as, as you can see, I am still alive.

DAY 32: Sodom to Carmel

Today: 22.1 miles
Total so far: 493.7 miles
Percentage Completed: 29.6%

(Click map to enlarge)

I dropped down from Offa's Dyke near the end of the path to enter town via the old railway, now a nature walk.

Prestatyn seen from above looks wonderful, laid out before you. Prestatyn at ground level is another matter; well, it is after you pass the railway line. You leave the 'normal' part of town and the moment you are the other side of the tracks, the nature of the town changes.

I walked along the flat coastal plain to the walk's terminus - a rock set amongst gravel saying that it marked the end of the walk. To the seaward side of the rock was a circular tourist information centre that looked decidedly dead. To the left was a gigantic 'leisure facility' built from greenhouses and factory wriggly tin. To the right; a smaller flat roofed facility, packed full of electronic gambling machines and lit by fluorescent lights with yellowing opal diffusers; only half the tubes working. The noise inside was an indescribable barrage of shoot 'em up games and repetitive phrases bleating to encourage you to play.

The people playing in this unvarnished hell-hole either looked malnourished or incredibly fat. You could find candyfloss, 'slush' and all manner of ghastly grub. It was mind numbingly depressing.

The Offa's Dyke guide prefaces the start to today's walk saying that this last day was anything but an anticlimax: As far as the walking goes, I agree totally. But to end one of Britain's finest National Trails at a hell hole is frankly amazing. What on earth were they thinking?

Perhaps I am being too elitist - after all, a journey through Britain should take everything in and today I saw the lot. But others are looking to the walk as an uplifting experience and to finish it at such a dump is cruel. Offas Dyke is a magnificent walk and I would recommend it to all: Just brace yourself when you finish.

The rest of the walk up to Carmel followed the cycle route and went well with a good pub find at the first village climbing up the hill from the hell-hole.