Thames Path (Part 2)

Tilehurst – Thames Head - Kemble, 2^nd – 6^th May 2017

Tuesday 2^nd May 2017          Tilehurst - Benson

Through the Goring Gap

It looked like the start of a glorious week of weather, wall to wall sunshine on the local weather-site. Before I donned shorts and threw out my gloves, I should have looked at the weather for the south of England. One of the oddities of the railway ticketing system is that slit-ticketing can substantially reduce the cost of travel. So I found myself having a quick cappuccino on Wolverhampton Station whilst travelling to Tilehurst, my finishing point back in March when I walked the first half of the Thames Path. All my connections worked perfectly and at 12.27 my Great Western train dropped me on a deserted platform at Tilehurst. With no distractions to deflect me, I set off straight away.

The first mile or so was in the housing estates of Purley but I was quickly back to the river at Marpledurham lock and out into the countryside. Flat meadows took me round to Pangbourne which is hidden from the riverside path until you exit onto Whitchurch Bridge, a toll bridge. The bridge was decorated with woollen tapestries and stuffed animals, part of a local arts festival. The route went through Whitchurch village and uphill before turning left into a lane which ran parallel with the river. A path from its end descended gradually through woodland high about the river. Then it was back down to water level around to Goring in its beautiful hilly setting. Exactly opposite to where the path emerges onto the road was a most wonderful coffee shop and my first of several in the week.

Continuing on the other side of the river, the way was less attractive. At Moulsford, the route is pushed onto a busy road, particular at school finishing time where a rather aggressive breed of Chelsea tractors threatened my life at every school entrance. I was relieved to get under the railway and back onto a quiet riverside path up to Wallingford. I did not see much of the village as the signed route avoided the centre. And I was in no mood for looking around. The clouds looked threatening and a cold wind had blown up. It began to drizzle on the next and last section of the day and I arrived in Benson with waterproofs on and umbrella in hand. I was directed by a local man towards the village centre and my accommodation for the night.

Tilehurst Station, dep. 12.28, Benson, arr. 18.20   GPS 17.01 miles in 5hr 27m 35s

I stayed at the Crown Inn in High Street, Benson. This is tied to the Greene King empire but is allowed one ‘guest’ beer at any time. This was Old Hoppy Hen (4.2%) from the Morland Brewery label. This was originally an Abingdon brewery, but Greene King bought and closed it and Morland beers are now brewed in Suffolk. The eating area in the pub is run as a separate business, the Crown Thai, owned by a Thai lady. I enjoyed a starter of sticky pork spare ribs and a main of duck with coconut rice. And I could pop round to the bar to keep my fluids up.

Wednesday 3^rd May 2017     Benson - Oxford

A Footbridge Too Far

It was mighty cold when I stepped out of the back door of the pub. I felt rather exposed in my shorts and I wished that I had my gloves with me. But the best way to keep warm is to keep moving so I retraced my steps through the village and quickly gained the riverside path passed the Waterfront café and marina. In no time at all, I was photographing Shillingford Bridge, photos that did not come out too well in the gloom. The exit from the village was via a long section of very busy road. The two road crossings took time and patience. I was glad when I spotted the gap in the opposite hedge which indicated a route to quieter climes.

On the long loop around Dorchester, I finally felt warm and I kept up a good pace after crossing the weir and striding out over the meadows and rough pastures towards Clifton. A section where the river had been straightened to improve navigation finished with another weir. Then there was a rather boring tramp across flatland and under a railway. At Culham the path ran along another cut or canalised reach. Finally I came to the big bend in the river where it turns north and then eastwards, apparently the wrong way. At the crest of this loop lay the lovely town of Abingdon. I felt a real buzz as I passed signs for free mooring and notices for free parking. Abingdon seems to welcome you. And what better welcome than to cross the bridge and find a Costa coffee shop. So it was out with the loyalty card and in for a panini and cappuccino.

The section after lunch was really delightful, a good path along gently wooded banks. Here I met a guy from Solihull who was an experienced long distance walker. We could have chatted all afternoon but I still had some way to go. So off I tramped and was really please with my pace and the time schedule that this provided. Then it all fell apart. To the north of Sandiford Lock, I came up to a group of workmen who claimed to be moving a footbridge to accommodate some new hydro-generators. They would not allow me to cross even though the bridge was still in place. They referred me to some closure signs back at the lock and I, by now in a foul mood, retraced my steps. The lock-keeper, who had watched me pass by earlier without alerting me to the closure, helped me find a diversion map on a fence behind a parked bicycle. It was not obvious. I then returned even further down the trail to the point of the so called diversion. There was no diversion or closure sign, only a card pinned to a fence not visible to someone coming from the south .The diversion route lay along a narrow cycle track with fast moving bicycles flying passed in both directions. I was not a happy bunny. This had cost me over 1½ mile extra on what was already a long day. And added a half hour to my schedule!
 

It was rather depressing to see a traffic jam on Donnington Bridge, my exit point to Oxford. It was a rapid return to reality after the remoteness of the Thames Path. I cut up a cycle way passed a school to reach Iffley Road and my guest house for the night.

Benson dep. 08.58, Oxford arr. 17.05   GPS 22.70 miles in 7hrs 38m 50s moving plus a 30 minute café stop at Costa Coffee in Abingdon (13.12-13.42)..

I stayed at the Cherwell Guest House in Iffley Road, Oxford near the track where Roger Bannister did the first sub-4 minute mile. I ate at the Cape of Good Hope pub where I was so hungry that, after my fish and chips, I had sticky toffee pudding as well. The beers were Oakham Scarlet Macaw (4.4%) and Horns (Wandsworth) Hop Air Balloon (4.2%). It was raining as I walked back to the guest house.

Thursday 4^th May 2017        Oxford – Tadpole Bridge

No Ferryman at the Inn

It was so cold again next morning but although the skies were dark grey, it was not raining. This was made worse by news from the north of cloudless skies and wall to wall sunshine. I joined the school run feeling rather self-conscious in my shorts with all the kids wrapped up in winter gear. There was still lots of traffic on Donnington Bridge but I dropped down onto the quiet riverside path with the city noises despatched into the distance. It was rather interesting walking through the city centre, looking into the backs of properties old and new. The river wound round the centre and passed a set of terrace houses. A short diversion round a construction site was this time well signed.

Eventually and gradually, I came out into open countryside, and there was a long section of grassy water meadows enabling me to get up to speed for the long day ahead. The weather improved and, by the time I came to Kings Lock, the northernmost point of the Thames, I was peeling off the layers of clothing. A wooded hillside dominated the southern aspect and the trail squeezed onto a woodland path around its north ridge. Swinford Bridge was a lovely sight but I needed a coffee shop more than good views. There was a short section on road to bypass a boatyard and then I crossed the river at Pinkhill Lock. Here I fell into step with a man and his dog. Together we headed away from the river across grassy meadows until he realised he could not make a circular walk and had to turn back. He had informed me that there was no foot ferry at Bablock Hythe and he was not sure whether the pub was still open. I was disappointed as I was by now getting desperate for a lunch stop.  So it was with some relief that, after a very long section away from the river, I walked into the car park of the Ferryman Inn to find it busy with lunchtime trade. I collapsed into a corner seat and enjoyed a pint of real ale whilst my lunch was being prepared.

The afternoon session drifted by in a haze of paths and meadows. Newbridge looked a picture with its two pubs, one serving coffee and cake. But it was too soon to stop again so I embarked on a seven-mile stretch of river that was remote and lonely. I saw no-one for two hours and very little sign of any habitation. The only signs of mankind were the pill boxes and tall wooden footbridges, including Ten Foot Bridge. It was hard to believe that I was in the crowded and over-populated south of England. All good things come to an end and eventually I saw Tadpole Bridge ahead and this I had to cross to reach my hotel. It was the end of another long but splendid day.

Oxford dep. 08.40, Tadpole Bridge arr. 17.10, GPS 23.04 miles in 7hrs 47m 56s walking time plus a 40-minute stop in the Ferryman Inn at Bablock Hythe. Here I had a ham & brie baguette and a pint of Wadworth Horizon (4.0%).

My hotel was the Trout at Tadpole Bridge where I was given a lovely bedroom in an out-building. I ate pork belly and black pudding which was very ordinary considering the price and reputation of the pub. I tried the Trout Bitter (3.6%) brewed for them by Ramsbury Brewery near Marlborough. I then homed in on Recoil (4.2%) from Loose Cannon, a genuine Abingdon Brewery. This was a wonderful ale (score of 9/10) which impressed me so much that, when the dessert menu failed to tempt me, I went liquid.

Friday 5^th May 2017              Tadpole Bridge – Cricklade

Head of Navigation

For the first time all week I woke to sunshine and, after my only full English breakfast of the trip, I set off under sun-cream and a sun-hat. Radcot Bridge was little over an hour upstream passed more pill boxes and Old Man’s Bridge. The Swan at Radcot no longer provides accommodation. This is a shame because it is in a beautiful spot, just back from the river in a wooded setting. The next feature was Kelscott Manor, another hour up the trail. I could see the old house through the trees but I had another long day planned and I was in no mood for sightseeing. I was momentarily off route near Buscot locks failing to find any signage over a wooden bridge and, even when I corrected this error, I found myself having to crawl commando-style under an electric fence. At the locks there was a notice board tempting me to turn into Buscot village to a tea shop. But I had bigger fish to fry. I was heading to the flesh pots of Lechlade where I knew of a café near the river. Lechlade looked a picture in the sunshine as I approached across the riverside meadows. I turned over the bridge and found my café in the pub car park down to my left.

The afternoon section in no way matched the morning’s. A long loop round to Inglesham church took me passed the confluence with the River Coln and the head of navigation on the Thames. Then it was out onto a very busy main road for a mile and a half. The lack of pavement meant that the walker was expected to crawl along a narrow grass verge, very poor for a national trail. Surely a fenced strip in the adjoining field could be negotiated. At last I was able to turn off this awful highway and head back towards the river. The route followed hard and dusty farm tracks for a couple of miles before picking up a tarmacked lane into Castle Eaton. The pub was closed. In fact the whole village seemed to be on siesta. So it came as a surprise to see a young mum pushing her buggy at high speed towards me. It is not just bicycles that go off road nowadays. I met a couple from Florida walking the opposite way to me. They had just finished the Cotswold Way and wanted a few extra days walking.

I pressed on now with the end in sight. I could see the tower of Cricklade church ahead of me, and I had only to pass under the bypass and across a few fields full of dog walkers and I was in the village searching for my accommodation. The Old Bear was at the top end of the High Street and the door was bolted and barred. I found my way round the back into the carpark and knocked up the owner who booked me in and showed me to a very nice room.

Tadpole Bridge dep. 08.55, Cricklade arr. 16.40, GPS 23.30 miles in 7hrs 30m 36s walking time plus a 30 min (12.20-12.50) stop at the Tea Chest Café in Lechlade. Banana cake covered in chocolate was the order of the day.

After a shower, I wandered back down High Street to the Red Lion and entered pandemonium. The place was heaving and, after I had grabbed a pint of Lode Star (4.5%), (Hop Kettle Brewery was run by the owner of the pub), I begged to join a table with one spare seat. The restaurant at the back of the bar opened at 6.30pm so I reserved a table and was seated in a much quieter room as soon as it opened. Here I had my best meal of the whole trip, lamb rump cooked to perfection. The chef was so good that I tried his dessert of toffee sponge and it did not disappoint. Add to this my discovery of North Wall (4.2%) again from Hop Kettle and I went back up to the Old Bear a very happy man.

Saturday 6^th May 2017                     Cricklade – Thames Head - Kemble

The Source of the Problem

With no breakfast booked at the pub, I was able to make an early getaway. By 8am I was letting myself out of the back gate and round into Cricklade High Street, not busy at this ungodly hour on a weekend. Stacey’s Kitchen was open and frying, so I popped in for a bacon butty. And before 8.30am I was passing the old Catholic Church and seeking the route out of town. I was concentrating today on the navigation. There was precious little signage and I could afford no mistakes today with a train to catch.

For this, my last day, I had no great expectations. The Thames was just a small stream and seemed on the map to disappear into vast lakes and reservoirs. However it turned out to be one of the most delightful sections of the whole trail. Open pasture led me into Cotswold Water Park where a series of well-kept tracks weaved round the lakes, leaving the river temporarily but providing lovely views over the water. Eventually I came out into the playing fields on Ashton Keynes and again had to be careful with route-finding through the village. Then there was a lovely section along the river as it burbled through woodland that hid the surrounding lakes. This went right through to the village of Ewen where there was a mile beside a road.

Then the world got positively lumpy. I was conscious for the first time in 180 miles that I was walking uphill. Here at last were the Cotswold Hills, sloping sheep-grazed pastureland. The sun came out to celebrate and I felt warm enough to take off my pullover. The river bed was now a parched channel with a trickle of water at its core. Just before the Fosse Way, this disappeared altogether, the embankment for the road severing any sign of the ditch. This would have been a more natural end to the trail. Instead I had to risk the road crossing with its high speed traffic on this narrow and straight section of highway. Then I pressed on over a rather uninviting field on a vague grassy track that led to a gate. And there I could see the end. At the far side of the field, up against a wooded hillside, was a light-coloured stone monolith gleaming in the sunlight. And next to it stood a finger-post that told me I was 184 miles away from the Thames Barrier and the start of my adventure. The writing on the stone was difficult to read. It stood like a small version of the magic stone in 2001 A Space Odyssey, but instead of it announcing the birth of humanity, it marked the birth of a river. I had a bite to eat and drank my spare water. It was time to go home.

 

I turned and retraced by steps to the Fosse Way and then took a more direct line down the next field to the Kemble Path. I was soon at the station buying my ticket and then standing on a crowded platform filled with Gloucester supporters on their way to the last match of the season. An hour later I was in a coffee shop near Cheltenham Spa Station, The Green Coffee Machine, awaiting my train back to the sunny north.

Cricklade dep. 08.25, Thames Head arr. 12.30, Kemble Station 13.20

GPS 14.45 miles in 4hrs 45m 48s walking time with a 15min stop at the Thames Head.

Aftermath

I walked a total of 98 mile over the five days, 94 of which were on the official route. The Thames Path was my eleventh National Trail, leaving me eight more to complete. It had provided pretty straightforward walking, pan-flat for most of the route and reasonably well signed. Accommodation and transport were easy to arrange, especially out of season. I was a bit aggrieved that the north of England had had such unbroken sunshine whilst I was struggling with grey skies, drizzle and icy cold winds, bitterly regretting my choice of shorts and no gloves. All things considered though, it was ideal walking conditions, a following wind and no chance of dehydration. Talking of which, I had found two more beers to rave about.

Thames Path (Part 1)

Thames Barrier –Tilehurst, 7 – 11^th March 2017

 

Tuesday 7^th March 2017     Thames Barrier – Tower Bridge

Starting with a Bomb Scare

My wife had booked to spend a week with her cousins in Toronto. March is not my favourite time of the Canadian year so I sought a national trail that I could walk during the latter part of a considerably warmer English winter. What better than a trek through the centre of London. So straight from delivering Jill to the airport, ‘do we have to be so early?’ I grabbed my carefully prepared rucksack and hurried down to the railway station. A lunchtime train to London should enable me to walk the first 10-mile section of the Thames Path in daylight.

All went well to Euston and then on the tube to Bank. It was a short walk to Cannon Street where, as I crossed the concourse to the ticket office, a public announcement was being made. Being short of time to buy my train ticket, I hurried into the ticket office planning to catch up with announcements later. When I emerged, I enquired about what was happening. The station had just been closed. A bomb scare at London Bridge Station had completed halted trains to the south east. I had the choice of sitting it out until the train services recommenced or looking for an alternative way of getting to the Thames Barrier. Hating inaction, I retraced my steps to Bank and negotiated the use of the newly acquired ticket on the DLR. The Lewisham-bound train was perfect for getting to Cutty Sark in Greenwich. Here some friendly bus crews put me on to the right bus and, rather later than planned, I was dropped off at the end of a road signed to the Thames Barrier Industrial Estate.

It was a most inauspicious start. The industrial estate was busy with dusty dirty construction vehicles and it was a relief to emerge onto the banks of the river where a patch of greenery surrounded the Thames Barrier and its visitor centre. This was closed so there was no opportunity for a café stop. But time was now of the essence so I hurried back towards London. The first mile of so was pretty horrific, passing waste management and building sites. Diversions from the signed route were the norm and navigation would have been difficult if I had not been following one of the biggest rivers in the country. As I got back to Greenwich, the sun was low in the sky. After passing Cutty Sark for the second time in the day, the route cut inland once more, this time through residential areas. I had to keep my concentration to stay on the official route. The signs kept pointing back to the water front only to keep cutting back to the road after a few yards. I ended up in the reception area of an hotel trying to force a route down the riverbank. I gave up the riverfront excursions and stayed on the road that ran parallel. As it went dark, this led to a fabulous section through the narrow passages of

Rotherhithe. All this was new to me: I have never been through Rotherhithe and I thoroughly enjoyed the atmospheric narrow streets in the growing darkness. Suddenly I rounded the last bend in the river and the city of London opened up before me. This view of Tower Bridge, lit up in the night sky, with the brightly lit skyscrapers behind, provided one of the great moments of the whole walk.

There were many people on the bridge and it was difficult weaving through the crowds of tourists and commuters. On the far side I descended a flight of the steps and emerged onto the cobbles that used to be carpeted to take the London Marathon runners passed the Tower. Soon I was searching for my hotel which confusingly was not accessed from the street which its address it bears.

Woolwich Road/ Westmoor Street Bus Stop, dep. 15.20, Thames Barrier, dep. 15.30, Tower Bridge, arr. 19.04   GPS 11.67 miles in 3hr 35m 00s

I stayed at the Hub by Premier Inn around the corner from Great Tower Street. There was a Weatherspoon’s, the Liberty Bounds, along the street so, rather later than I would have liked, I ate fish and chips and researched the beers of a new microbrewery, Sambrook’s of Battersea. I tried pints of Junction (4.5%) and Wandle (3.8%).

 

Wednesday 8^th March 2017     Tower Bridge - Richmond

The South Bank Show

It had the audacity to rain this morning. I had to try out my new walking umbrella far earlier than I expected. It was a little too breezy for the umbrella as I re-crossed Tower Bridge to pick up the national trail. At least the poor weather kept the tourists away and I strode out along the south bank passed HMS Belfast. Then came the steps up to London Bridge. I thought there was no uphill on this route. The trail left the riverside and continued down Clink Street and round to Southwark Cathedral, another fist for my collection of the cathedrals of England. I was completely taken by surprise to

come out of the cathedral and virtually fall over the Golden Hinde in is secluded dry-dock. I had forgotten all about this piece of medieval England but I was aware of the next, the Globe Theatre, which I still have not been to. Another target for the year? The Tate Modern I knew from my power station days. And then it was the concrete jungle of the South Bank. Some people like this, I know, but I consider the only advantage of being there is that one can turn ones back on it and look across to the wonderful skyline of the city on the other side of the river.

In Lambeth there was one of several diversions around riverside construction projects. The longest of these took me passed the Battersea Dogs Home in a long loop to get round the newly developing power station. It was a relief to squeeze passed the queues of wagons and into Battersea Park. I cut across the centre of the park passing the zoo and heading diagonally for Albert Bridge. The riverside was regained for a short while, but after Wandsworth Bridge, the diversions stared once more. One of these took me over the River Wandle. That explains the name of last night’s beer! At last I came to Putney Bridge and a few yards passed here, London and its paved streets came to an end. In front was a dirt track, green fields and a tree lined embankment.

But first I had lunch to attend to. In a tiny park with a kiddies play area was Loo Loo’s, a wooden hut and homely café. A croque monsieur went down so quickly that I had to reinforce it with a piece of carrot cake. Who was Loo Loo, I asked. ‘My mother’, said the woman attending to my needs. ‘Why Loo Loo’. ‘Because the kids playing on the swings came in here to go to the loo so that’s what they called her’. Reinvigorated for the afternoon, I strode onto the Boat Race course and for the next four miles or so relived all those years of watching the event on television. The banks were line with rowing club houses and the river was filled with their members. The race itself was only a few weeks away. The race route seemed a long way when you are walking. The finish is at a scruffy part of the river, Chiswick Bridge being far from the prettiest of the day. One can see precious little of Kew Gardens from the riverbank and not much of Richmond Deer Park. The noise from the jets on-route for a landing at Heathrow was tiresome and I was quite glad when the great loop of the river was completed and I could see Richmond Bridge ahead. Just before the bridge I cut up Water Lane and after a short search, traced my hotel for the night. It had been a short but fascinating day.

Tower Bridge  dep. 09.00, Richmond arr. 15.45   GPS 19.08 miles in 6hrs 07m 11s moving plus a 30 minute café stop at Loo Loo’s near Putney (12.30-13.00)..

I stayed at the Travelodge in Richmond, had a pint of Young’s London Gold (4.00%) at the White Cross before dining at the Old Ship. Here I ate duck comfit and discovered a very good ale from Twickenham Brewery, Grandstand (3.8%).

Thursday 9^th March 2017     Richmond – Staines

Ferry Across the Thames

This was the first time I tried walking, voluntarily that is, without a breakfast. I refused what was on offer at the Travelodge and gave myself the choice of finding somewhere locally or to get a few miles under my belt before stopping for a breakfast. I chose to make a start and to stop at the first suitable café en route. So I returned to the river down Water Lane and turned back to the task in hand.

A gentle start through some parkland led out onto the riverbank with views of the pubs of Twickenham on the far shore. I quickly came round the corner to Teddington lock and the end of the tidal Thames. From now on rainfall and weirs would control the river levels, not time and tide. It was no distance from there to Kingston Bridge where the path crosses over to the other bank. No cafes were apparent close to the river so I pressed on, round an everlasting bend with flat meadows to the

right. Outside Hampton Court, I asked a Dutch couple to take a photo of me in front of the gates then I returned to civilisation at Hampton Court Bridge where I returned once again to the south bank and into café country. I had a choice of coffee houses and immediately tried a likely looking candidate and here ate my very late breakfast, a very welcome bacon butty. This of course turned out to be inadequate. The display of cakes on the counter was too much for my iron discipline. I even had a second coffee.
 

For the next few miles I was conscious of residential areas away to the left. In some places these spilt down to the river. Walton really is on the Thames. After Walton Bridge a long straight track ran along a canal that cut through a loop in the river. Where this re-joined the main river, a few steps led down to a land stage and a bell. Like an Alice in Wonderland scene, it said ‘ring me’. So I did and a ferryman brought a boat across the river and took me over to Shepperton. Road walking dominated the next section but a few field sections provided some variation. Beyond Chertsey the footpath ran beside the road for a mile of so under the M3 and into Laleham. From thence it was an easy few minutes round the next bend and into the outskirts of Staines. The route left the river at the railway bridge but then cut back to the waterside through a small park containing the London Stone. Here ended the day’s walk and I cut into the town to find yet another Travelodge.

Richmond dep. 08.49, Staines arr. 16.20, GPS 20.50 miles in 6hrs 42m 40s walking time plus a bacon butty and coffee at the Five at the Bridge Café at East Molesey (11.38-12.25). Once again I could not resist one of their cakes as well.

My hotel was the Travelodge in Staines. I ate at the George, a Weatherspoon’s, where I had lamb shank and pints of HBB (3.7%) from Hogs Back near Farnham and Incredible Pale Ale (5.0%) from Reunion Brewery in Twickenham. The latter was superb if a little strong.  

Friday 10^th March 2017     Staines – Marlow

A Two Stop Day

For the one big day of the walk, the last thing one should do is make a navigation mistake. There are not many mistakes one can make when walking up the Thames. So imagine my chagrin when I found I had stepped out of the hotel and set off up the wrong side of the river. So I had over half a mile on my GPS before I returned to Marlow Bridge and shuffled shamefully across.

Once back onside, I made good progress, firstly passing under the M25, then out onto the water meadows of Runnymede. The Magna Carta memorial was rather disappointing. The presence of a very busy road takes away any atmosphere the area might have. It had suddenly got suburban again and the route takes to the main road at Old Windsor and through Datchet. There was a second Albert Bridge, a lot quieter than the first. Then at Victoria Bridge the landscape opens up into another spectacular view. There, across the playing fields of Eaton, was the first sighting of Windsor Castle and St Georges Chapel. The river goes round a loop before coming back into Windsor alongside a railway line which masks the royal castle. But the most attractive sight as I crossed the bridge into the centre of Windsor was the Costas sign on the riverside café.  My late morning refreshments beckoned.

After a short break, I was much revived and hurried on along the north side of the Thames, the side that had cost me dear at the start of the day. In the meadows opposite the race course there was a lovely old church, St Mary Magdalene, in a tranquil setting lying back from the river. I spent a few moments of contemplation in the totally silent sanctum and then emerged into the sunshine to continue the rest of my life, or at least the bit up to the next teashop. I quickly came up to the rowing centre at Dorney and the locks at Monkey Island. Here I chatted briefly with a man from the Environment Agency who told me where the famous restaurant was to be found in Bray village on the opposite bank of the river. A bit early for a posh meal! Then it was on round the next bend and back into suburbia, Maidenhead was imminent.

And so was another coffee break. I at been advised by several people this morning about Jenner’s. I had been told that it was right en route and that I could not miss it on my way out of town. And sure enough, there across this busy road, sitting within a small park, was a large wooden hut and a coffee sign. After paying London prices for the last few days it was lovely to get coffee & cake for £3.00, so I relaxed briefly and briefly and watched the world by in this busy little café. But not relaxing for long! Soon I was off again up the road to Boulter’s Lock and back onto the riverside path. A lovely couple of miles up the tree-lined river ended with a left turn inland and a road section through Cookham village. The route remains on the right bank until Bourne End railway bridge which carries the trail on a footbridge across the river onto the northern side. Then a bare and barren three miles of muddy fields, led under the by-pass and into the lovely town of Marlow. The official route weaves and winds its way through passages and back entries before exiting the churchyard, almost at the doorway of my hotel. My long day was at an end.

Staines dep. 08.12, Marlow arr. 16.25, GPS 23.30 miles in 7hrs 30m 36s walking time plus a brie & bacon panini at Costas in Windsor (11.05-11.25) and tea and carrot cake at Jenner’s in Maidenhead (13.45-14.05).

The Premier Inn in Marlow was right on-route. I had a couple of pints in the Ship, both from Rebellion Brewery in Marlow, IPA (3.7%) and an excellent Roast Nuts (4.6%). I then went along to the Tiger Garden Indian Restaurant and ordered duck jalfrezi and the pre-requisite pint of Cobra.

 

Saturday 11^th March 2017     Marlow - Tilehurst

Breakfast in Henley

I was beginning to enjoy the late rising that breakfast-free hotels could offer. I could lie in, then crawl out of bed, pack my bags and slip out of the hotel in record-speed time. The only problem would be getting to the first café en-route in time for breakfast, Today the next town would be 8.5 miles up-river, a tidy walk on an empty stomach. I stepped out of the hotel right onto the path, crossed the road and was off before 9.00am on a cloudy morning. I slowly wound up the pace on a peaceful section to Hurley lock, arriving before the tea-hut had opened. The caravans and mobile homes to my life were quiet with an out-of-season feel. The route then broke out into open fields and a deer park near Culham Court. Rounding a huge bend in the river, I arrived at Temple Island as the first of the Saturday morning rowers pounded downstream. The riverside path was then busy with coaches and trainers riding along on their bicycles shouting instructions and encouragement to the crews out on the water. A race between two eights hurtled passed, one crew in national colours. Their speed was breath-taking. I got some advice on Henley coffee shops from one such coach and then hurried on towards my breakfast. As I crossed the bridge, I could see a likely looking café on the Henley water-front. Never has a bacon sandwich been so welcome.

It was warmer and brighter when I emerged. The sun was attempting a breakthrough. But this was not sufficient to dry out the path on the next section. There were patches of pace-sapping mud all the way down to Lower Shiplake and Sonning. Stopping briefly to show two Asian girls how to work a kissing gate, I was soon crossing the delightful old bridge near the hotel and theatre at Sonning. There was a good track down the south bank all the way round to Reading. The way got busier and busier as I neared civilisation. Industry and railways lines closed in on me until I was finally in the town centre and up to its two busy bridges. Passed the second of these, a tarmacked path crossed parkland full of weekend strollers, bikers and dog walkers. As the path, river and railway came together at Tilehurst, I stopped to change out of my walking gear and into something more appropriate for the trip home. I could see the station above me but was disappointed to be unable to access it without continuing for half a mile to a footbridge across the railway to the main road. By the time I had reversed my direction of travel to get to the station, I had missed the train I was going for and had to wait for the next service back to Reading which, as sod’s law would have it, was running 14, that is ‘1’ …’4’ minutes late.

Marlow dep. 08.41, Tilehurst Station arr. 16.20. GPS 21.36 miles in 7hrs 01m 48s walking time with a stop at the Chocolate Café in Henley (11.30 – 12.03).

 

Aftermath

Once on the train, I was back in Reading in just a few minutes. I shuffled through the shopping street looking for somewhere for a quick meal and a pint. And I found the perfect place. A town centre hotel, the George, had a bistro bar, the Dickens Bar, which served cheap and cheerful food but no hand-pumped beer. So I took to the default position of fish and chips and bottled beer. Here this was London Pride (4.7%), so welcome that I had two. For entertainment I watched the closing stages of England’s demolition job on the Scotland rugby team. Back at the station, the trains home worked perfectly. I did not even have to change platform at Birmingham. So by soon 9.40pm I was in Macclesfield and prepared for the last mile of the week.

So I had walked half the Thames Path. The weather had been kind: in fact it was remarkably warm at times and I could not really call this a winter walk. Spring had come early. I was wise doing this path out of season. I can imagine that parts of this route would be very busy later in the year and I was told that accommodation becomes hard to find in the summer. So it may be autumn or next spring before I get round to finishing off this national trail. Five more days should get me up to the source of the Thames, and I shall look forward to it. It is a pleasant and varied route.

Wales Coast Path (Part 2)

Ogmore by Sea – Llanelli, 19^th – 23^rd September 2016

Monday 19^th September 2016          Ogmore by Sea - Porthcawl

Into the Sand

This was the second year of our twelve year project for walking around the coast of Wales. Last year we walked from Chepstow to Ogmore by Sea before taking a bus to Bridgend station. So, this time slightly later in the year, we were heading back to Bridgend and Ogmore to continue from where we left off. Phil was round early so he could park his car for the week and be ready for the lift to Wilmslow. My wife delivered us in good time for the 09.46 Arriva Wales train to South Wales. On a cloudy and damp morning, we travelled through the beautiful Welsh Marches and round the south coast to Bridgend. Arriving near 20 minutes late, we were tight for our bus connection and only had time to grab a take-away coffee and sausage rolls which we consumed on the short bus ride out to Ogmore by Sea. We got off at the exact bus stop that ended last year’s walk and dropped into the car park to take the mandatory photographs. The 2016 edition of the Wales Coast Path was underway.

We then retraced the bus route back up the river to Ogmore. Here there was a footbridge across the river that led to a delightful little hamlet of thatched cottages and old church in a sheltered woodland setting. A lane led to a castle. In the car park we crossed onto a sandy path whilst failing to set eyes of the castle itself. This sandy path got sandier and sandier as we cut back towards the river and we ended up skirting round a system of large dunes. Or we though they were large as we had no idea what was to come. So after 90 minutes of walking, and with 4.5 miles on our GPS, we ended up about 200 yards from where we had started, but on the opposite bank of the estuary. Oh for the courage to wade rivers!

Just as a shower of rain came in from the sea, the waymarked route led us onto a large stretch of exposed beach which, as it was low tide, made easy going until we came to a rock shelf that blocked further progress. The official path then continued behind the dunes until we could descend once more onto the beach and the final run in to a holiday park. At a lifeboat station, a lovely but deserted sandy beach opened up, Sandy Bay, and we crossed this to reach Porthcawl harbour and town centre. As the rain eased, we turned away from the sea to find our accommodation for the night and prepare ourselves for our first sally into the drinking dens of South Wales,

Ogmore by Sea dep. 13.55, Porthcawl arr. 16.52   GPS 8.38 miles in 2hr 56m 37s

We stayed in the Butterfly Guest house, Mary Street, Porthcawl. We were recommended the Lorelei Hotel as the best real ale in town, a superb Golden Arrow (4.5%) from Cottage Brewing in Somerset. We then moved on to the Royal Oak for a meal of belly pork followed by strawberry sponge and ice cream. I had to make do with Doom Bar (4.0%) and Ruddles County (4.7%).

 

Tuesday 20^th September 2016          Porthcawl - Swansea

TATA for Now

The weather was clear; the sky was blue as we made our way back to the sea front. The promenade looked lovely in the morning sunshine. As we approached the golf course, the view down the coast opened up. The dominant feature was the distant steel works and its periodic plumes of steam. But in the foreground was Sker House, a dark yellow colour, lit up by the low sun, And the smoke and steam seemed to be emanating from its chimneys!

Beyond Sker House, we broke out onto Kenfig Burrows, a huge area of grass-covered dunes, now a nature reserve. We knew that a footbridge had been missing last year and we certainly did not wish to take the inland option for this section of the coast path. So it was some relief to come to a brand new and very sturdy wooden structure that took us out of the burrows and up a sunken sandy path around a complex area of dunes. We started to encounter signs of industrial use as we passed through new growths of woodland on old railway sidings. Eventually the route brought us to actively-used sidings at the entrance to the steel works and then across the main line. The pleasant part of the day was over.

To get round the TATA steel works, we started alongside a busy dual carriageway, and then dived through a ginnel into a long stretch of suburban housing in Margam. After what seemed an age, we broke out of the housing estates and back onto the dual carriageway and continued passed several roundabouts. Eventually we crossed a river bridge and were able to turn back through Port Talbot towards the sea. What a relief it was to hit the promenade at Aberavon and walk by the sea once more. It was also a relief to see a coffee shop. We were in need of something to revive the spirits. A custard slice and cappuccino were just the thing and, after a 30 minute break, we donned our sacks and venture back onto the prom. Here we met a young man, Tom Davies, who was walking in ten weeks what we were proposed to do in twelve years. He was circumnavigating Wales in a single contiguous expedition, camping where he could and encouraging charitable donations for Alzheimer’s Research. I shall follow his progress with a passion.

The waymarked route took us onto the beach at the end of the promenade. It is always easier to see the signs onto the beach than off it again. In the absence of any indication of a route through the dunes, even though the map indicated one, we continued on easy wet sand to the mouth of the river and then inland up the estuary. We thus avoided any dunes but found ourselves in increasingly softer mud and running side streams. We aimed at a pipe line that came out of an industrial plant on a raised gantry. Passing under this pipeline we reached a track that was above high water so were able to make fast progress once again towards the two bridges across the river. The route passes under the motorway and up to the A-road and then across the bridge.

On the other side, we found ourselves alongside a very busy A-road and it seemed a long time before we were able to turn off this and head inland towards Jersey Marine. Here we picked up the tow path of an old canal, the Tennant Canal, This quickly became totally overgrown and impassable but the path swung away onto a cycle route that took us most of the way into Swansea. The main road was re-crossed on a bridge which is now a bus lane and which took us into new developments around the docklands. Here on the edge of a huge dock was our hotel for the night. It had been a long and sometimes depressing day.

Porthcawl dep. 08.50, Swansea arr. 16.20   GPS 22.52 miles in 7hr 01m 46s moving plus a 25 minute café stop on the promenade at Aberavon (13.00-13.25)..

We stayed at the Premier Inn on the Waterfront in Swansea. This was very handy for the city centre and in particular for Wind Street and its eating houses. We found a Weatherspoon’s, the Bank Statement, and I had a huge lamb shank to offset the rigours of the day. I so enjoyed this that I celebrated with pancakes and ice cream, all washed down with beer from a local Swansea brewery, Boss Brewing. I sampled Boss Blaze (4.5%) and Boss Brave (an IPA at 5.5% this helped me sleep).

Wednesday 21^st September 2016     Swansea – Port Eynon

Mumble in the Dunes

Being in a hotel, we took the opportunity of a very early breakfast and were standing on the dockside with sacks on backs before 8.30am. The city looked lovely in the bright morning sunshine with a clarity of light that was almost Mediterranean.  Even though some drizzle came in from the sea, this impression of a Riviera coast continued along the promenade and cycle path, passed the University and all the way to the Mumbles. Here, with its quiet harbour and coffee shops, looked the perfect place for a morning stop but it was far too early and, on reaching the pier and lifeboat station, we turned up a flight of steps and out onto a high headland. We entered a different world. The dramatic Gower coastline opened up in front of us, the wind was in our faces and an exhilarating feeling overtook us. The first part of the coast path was tarmac and it was easy going around the headlands and bays. We had set ourselves the challenge of walking ten miles before succumbing to the teas shops and Caswell Bay met these criteria perfectly as we dropped into the Surfside café for Victoria sponge and orange polenta.

We took the high tide route (no choice) out of the Caswell Bay along a road that was closed to cars due to some roadworks. We slipped between the diggers and  along a wild section of cliff path that climbed and fell through the overgrown undercliff. The first drop was into Brandy Cove where we met a couple of journalist taking photographs (‘a busman’s holiday’ one said). We struggle to find the route out of the cove and had to ask a resident of the beachside cottage. Then the journalists returned to show us where we had gone wrong and we were soon, after posing for a photo, scrambling up through the dense woodland. It was slow going to get over a high headland but then we speeded up again on a long grassy descent to the road which we followed to Southgate. Here we met a large party of Duke of Edinburgh contenders all looking relieved to be finishing in the village. We carried on across open grassland grazed by cattle of a breed I did not recognise. This led us to a descent into a huge dune system the like of which I had not seen since a holiday in Namibia. I ended up almost crag-bound high above a river estuary at Three Cliff Bay. Whilst I was working out a decent strategy, an adder crawled across the path in front of Phil. Eventually we were able to scree-run (sand run) the last few feet onto the estuary mud. We plodded across the wet estuary to reach a set of stepping stones. Here we had to wait for a large party of Russian children to cross before we could take our turn. The next section will stay long in our memory. The way-markings pointed to a sandy gully and we embarked on a massive climb up the dry sand to the top of the next headland. It went on and on, still more sand and still more climbing. It was a wonderful moment when we pulled out on a flat grass plateau and into the sunshine,

After this amazing climb, the route was a lot easier. A grassy cliff-top track led gradually down through some woodland and out into a most delightful nature reserve, Nicholaston Burrows, a flat and grassy area of sand, crawling with wildlife. We found truffles under an oak tree, some lovely cranesbills, probably the Bloody Cranesbill, and a bright red dragon fly. This section ended in a wooden footbridge which took us on to a vast beach. Easy walking on firm flat sand took us to Oxwich Bay and our second stop of the day (I must be getting soft). We sat at a beach-side kiosk and had freshly-made sandwiches and piping hot tea. This gave us the strength for the final pull of a long day.

A short walk at sea level through the woods brought us to a church entire hidden in the trees. St Illtyd’s Church was at the foot of some steps, well over 200, I believe, that led up wooded hillside. A short flat section then ended in a descent back to sea level down what I assume would be an equal number of steps (not so, says the guidebook). It was a sting in the tail at the end of a strenuous day. So we were glad of an easy finish along a grassy shelf between the cliffs and the sea. One diversion delayed us briefly but we were soon traipsing into Port Eynon where we had to ring our host for the evening to find our b&b. It was right opposite the pub. There is a God!

Swansea dep. 08.36, Port Eynon arr. 17.40, GPS 23.64 miles in 8hrs 26m 08s walking time plus a morning coffee stop at Caswell Bay (11.30-11.55) and a very late lunch break in Oxwich Bay (15.00-15.30).

We stayed in the Rickyard in Port Eynon and ate across the road at the Ship Inn. I could not resist the fish and chips and I then tucked away a stick toffee pudding. It was our first taste of Gower Gold (4.5%) from the Gower Brewery in Swansea. I finished with a swift half of Gower Power (5.5%) .

Thursday 22^nd September 2016       Port Eynon – Llanmadoc

The Worm has Turned

The scheduled mileage was not so great today so we could have a later and more leisurely breakfast and a more sedate start. It was another beautiful morning. We had been blessed with perfect weather for walking. The waymarked coast path led us briefly onto the beach. Then an easy climb on grassy slopes took us out to Port Eynon Point and back into dramatic coastal scenery. The first hour was over superb clifftop grassland and it was here that we had a most interesting encounter with a rare bird. Coming round a shallow depression, we were greeted by a chough feeding on the slope just 20 yards ahead. I have never seen a chough this close before and certainly never been able to watch one on the ground for several minutes. Then it was time to move on and disturb this bird, only to walk into a raven sitting on the next headland, honking and croaking at us.

Worms Head now came into view ahead of us and the last half mile dropped down into a dip and then climbed up and out onto a huge grassy headland which led us to the cliff edge and the tip of the Gower Peninsular. We stopped for photos and chats with passers-by and then walked over to the coast watch station and spent a few minutes talking to the two lady watch-keepers. They congratulated us on our bright shirts, ‘easier to see you’. We signed their visitors book and moved on up to Rhossili village and a coffee and cake stop. The café provided a splendid view of Rhossili beach and the afternoon ahead.

The afternoon session began with a scenic high-level path that contoured along the hillside parallel to the beach. Eventually we arrived at sea level and headed back into the dunes and  sand. We avoided some of this by taking to the beach but, at Spaniard Rocks, we had to clamber up onto the rocky foreshore and then steeply up more big dunes. A brief drop to cross behind Broughton Bay was just a prelude to the last climb of the day up yet another dune where the magnificent spectacle of Whiteford Burrows opened out. The descent to the burrows was through some woodland but this led us out onto a flat grassy nature reserve where we found what the interpretive board told us was an oil beetle. As usual the route took to the beach and we had a very long tramp, two miles or so, to Whiteford Point and its cast iron lighthouse. We rounded the point at the high water level and turned east and south east looking for a waymarked route back round the woods. In the end we just headed into the dunes and soon picked up a trod that led us to where we needed to be, a waymarked trod to the east of a long line of plantations. Eventually this came out onto a track which led us to a three way signpost with the coast path signed in all three directions. We took the long loop towards Llanmadoc church where we enquired of the whereabouts of our b&b. This turned out to be half a mile back towards the pub and could probably have been reached by a more direct route. However, one of the footpaths had been closed and diversion signs were taking us towards our overnight accommodation, attractively near the pub. Our host provided tea and cake and gave us a warm reception.

Port Eynon dep. 08.52, Llanmadoc arr. 16.40, GPS 19.07 miles in 7hr 21m 28s walking time plus a 30 min break at Worms Head and another 30 minutes in the café at Rhossili.

We overnighted at Tallizmand b&b in Llanmadoc and ate at the Britannia Inn just down the road.  Steak and Gower Ale Pie was followed by bread and butter pudding. The Gower Gold (4.5%) was like meeting an old friend. I also tasted the HPA (4.0%) from the Wye Valley Brewery in Stoke Lacy.

Friday 23^rd September 2016             Llanmadoc - Llanelli

Marshes and Estuary

We had a problem in persuading our host to provide an 8am breakfast. We had a train to catch and needed an earlier start than their normal breakfast time would provide, But he relented and with great humour cooked us a lovely fry-up and saw us on our way. It was raining as we ventured outside and waterproofs where worn for the first hour or so. The way-markers took us along the road into Cheriton and then back to the edge of the marshes. This seemed a long way round but, in view of the footpath closure and diversion, it seemed sensible to do as we were told.

The overnight rain had made the path along the marsh rather muddy and slippery. This was not improved by the fact that sheep also used this fringe path and had churned it up quite badly. The initial section was along vast salt marsh, the flatness of landscapes a contrast to our days in dunes and on cliff tops. After the village of Llandimore, the route left the marsh and took to fields and woodland. Then at Llanrhidian, we were on a narrow road, always with the marshland to our left. There was evidence that high tides can flood this road and the coast track that circles around Crofty village. Suddenly the marshes were finished and we were on a busy main road to Pen-clywdd, the only point of interest being the wide flowers planted in the verge. The village provide us with a coffee shop and a short rest.

The sun was now shining brightly and it was turning into a warm afternoon. The exit from Pen-clywdd was on pavement and then a pleasant cycle track that wandered below the busy road. We followed this to it conclusion which was well past the point on the map where the official route goes right over some farm land. We had seen no signs for this rather strange detour so we ignored it and continued down the road into Gowerton. We had always assumed the it was ‘de regueur’ for a coast path to follow the nearest suitable path to the sea. This formula would have established a definitive route as the signed North Gower Cycle Route and then taking in a path to the left which cut a corner off the road route. There would be no way of avoiding a dangerous short section of busy rat-runs that took us off the Gower and up to the railway and main road. A path beside the A484 took us through another area where the local council had planted wildflowers, a wonderful sight for sore eyes (or was it feet). Loughor Castle stood to our right on a very step mound. I could not resist shinning up it and slipping down the steep grass on the other side to the road bridge. Phil who had stayed on the path got lost in a housing estate and failed to appear for some time.

The signed route took us through a much larger housing estate on the other side of the river. This aimed at a car park and a walkway that crossed the main road via a footbridge. The last six miles or so were along a tarmac cycle path which wound its way round sewerage works, wetland centres and golf courses before pulling round a rather ghastly housing development which we had seen from the other side of the estuary. This had been built on reclaimed industrial land and the streets bore names like ‘Copperhouse Road’. There was a point on the Llanelli peripheral road where we were at the nearest point to the station, We took photos of our end point for the year and turned right to find the station and somewhere to eat. We found the station but little else. The town looked totally rundown with cafes and pubs closed and in some cases boarded up. I went back for some fish and chips and we sat overlooking some derelict land and changed our shoes ready for the trip home. The station was shut up and there were no toilets on the platform. I cannot recommend Llanelli as the perfect end to a long walk.

Llanmadoc dep. 08.50, Llanelli arr.16.00, Llanelli Station arr. 16.20, GPS 21.31 miles in 6hrs 54m 40s walking time with a stop in Café Cariad in Pen-clywdd (12.00 – 12.25). .

Aftermath

We caught the 17.26 Arriva Wales train back to Cheshire. This two coach unit stopped everywhere and seemed to take us on a tour round South Wales and through two years of our walking history. We feasted our eyes on the female flesh travelling into Cardiff for a Friday night out and then fell into conversation with a lady from Surrey who was travelling to Ludlow to spend the weekend with her mother. Eventually we came into Wilmslow and it seemed a long walk to reach my wife waiting in the station car park.

 

Thus ended the second part of our ten-year project to walk round the Welsh coast (twelve years if we manage Offa’s Dyke to complete the circumnavigation). The Gower is behind us and some it, especially Worms Head, will remain a wonderful memory. If we had one surprise, it was the sand dunes. We had not expected so much loose sand and such huge dunes to have to climb. Let’s hope we have emptied our shoes for the last time this year.

 
 
 

 
 

St Oswald's Way

Hexham – Lindisfarne, 6^th – 10^th August 2016

Introduction

Friday 5^th August 2016

I was getting desperate for a good walk but the weather this summer has not been conducive. It had not turned out to be the monsoon season forecast by climate change models; just day after day of grey skies and drizzle. Then suddenly there was a hint of high pressure offering a weekend of sunshine. So, on the spur of the moment, I grabbed my guidebook to the St Oswald’s Way, spent a morning on-line booking the hotels and b&b’s, bought my train tickets and packed my rucksack. 48 hours later I was on the train to Carlisle and Hexham.

The tide tables determined which direction I was to walk in. The afternoon low tides made it more suitable for a late finish of the northward walk rather than an early start needed for a north-south journey. I was really pleased and pretty amazed I had managed to get the accommodation sorted out at such a busy time in the holiday season. Then I got a phone call from the Knowesgate Inn telling me that, although I had booked a room and had a receipt, they had no accommodation for me. I could either panic and cancel, or stay cool and carry on in the hope that a bed would be found.  Then it was off to the station and into the unknown. I travelled via Manchester Piccadilly and Carlisle to catch an early evening train to Hexham, The promised better weather was beginning to appear.

I stayed at the Station Inn in Hexham. My meal was spicy chicken, chips and peas and the beer was the excellent Allendale Golden Plover (4%).

Saturday 6^th August 2016     Hexham - Knowesgate

Heaven on the Wall

It was a beautiful morning, just as forecast. I went up into Hexham town centre to find an ATM and the bus station. As I was so early, I decided to forsake public transport and walk up to the official start at Heavenfield. So I turned back across the railway line and crossed the Tyne. The Pennine Journey route was marked on my map so I initially followed this to the footbridge across the A69 and beyond. The map was then rather confusing and I found myself on a lane rather than in a field. But it revealed a gem of an old church, St John of Beverley near Acomb. I spent a few minutes in the church in quiet contemplation and then came out to talk to a lady, Sheila Smith, who had just finished writing a history of the church and is in the process of getting it published. She suggested that I write to the rectory next year to get a copy. Amazingly this was the very day of an annual pilgrimage from Hexham Abbey up to the chapel at Heavenfield to mark the anniversary of St Oswald’s death in battle (5^th August 642). 

Then it was onwards and upwards along the very quiet lanes until I could cut across some fields up to the road along Hadrian’s Wall. I had to deviate westward for a few hundred yards to get access to the Hadrian’s Wall Path but I was soon heading in the right direction up to the large cross and chapel at Heavenfield. Here a couple were struggling to erect a small marquis from which to sell teas to the afternoon pilgrims. I could not wait; I had a long day in front of me. So, after a brief glance inside the chapel and then offering a helping hand in the tent erection process, I set out along the National Trail. This I followed for five or six miles to Halton Shields where my Way turned northwards along field paths passed at old windmill and into to Great Whittington. Here the pub, a Chinese restaurant, was closed. It was getting hot now and, in the total absence of any refreshment emporium, I sat on the grass for a few moments near to Click ‘em In Farm. The route-finding across the next hill was rather tricky but I eventually found the correct line and dropped down to a road and war memorial. Here a runner came towards me, a lad reccying the route for a race along its entire length next month. Two more miles of road took me to Little Bavington where a series of field paths led uphill passed Clay Walls Farm. Here, coming towards me through a herd of very frisky cattle, was another runner making the same reccy. He has the courtesy to come turn back with me and help me through the rampant beasts.  More farmland was crossed until I could see Kirkwhelpington ahead and on the hill above it, my destination. The rough ground up this last hill was not my most pleasant memory of the day but I was soon on the lane that led to the hotel at Knowesgate.

Hexham dep. 08.45, Knowesgate arr. 17.25   GPS 23.93 miles in 8hr 16m 57s moving plus a 10 min lunch stop near Great Whittington.

I stayed at the Knowesgate Inn which did have a room ready for me despite my worst fears. This hotel has gained a poor reputation and it is not the Ritz. It is a roadside inn that it developing as a motel. I found it fun to stay there and I enjoyed a great meal of lamb shank. The only real ale was in bottles (Doombar 4%) but I was desperate so I had two.

 

Sunday 7^th August 2016       Knowesgate – Weldon

With a Following Wind

A great wind had arisen during the night and it looked quite wild from the breakfast table. So I donned a waterproof before venturing outside but the rain held off and it acted more as a windproof. I was blown across the high farmland and passed the plantations. Eventually I arrived at the entrance to Harwood Forest and, from thereon, it was more sheltered. The route through the forest was mostly on wide tracks although there were a couple of sections on narrow overgrown paths. The way rose gentle until it suddenly exited the forest at the highest point on the entire five days. I burst out of the trees at Cairn Coquet onto magnificent mountain scenery with Simonside away to the left. The section across to Spylaw Farm was probably the best of the whole route. Then it was down to the car park at Lordenshaws and round the iron-age fort to reach the final steep descent into Rothbury. Crossing the bridge, I was faced with an attractive looking café (Tomlinson’s) and was soon ensconced with coffee and scones.

The short afternoon section began by re-crossing the bridge and proceeding along a road and old railway line along the right bank of the River Coquet. The route did not follow the river but scrambled up and down surrounding countryside to steer in a straight line as the river meandered on its way. After passing several farms, a farm track led to a lane and a short section on tarmac. The last couple of miles into Weldon Bridge looked simple on the map but caused me a few route-finding problems. I ended up asking the way from a very helpful local who invited me to climb her garden fence to get back onto the right of way. The last area of woodland, passing a weir in the river, was very fiddly and I was quite relieved to pull out onto the road and cross the old bridge. The hotel was immediately on the other side.

Knowesgate dep. 08.42, Weldon arr. 16.40, GPS 21.10 miles in 7hrs 31m 00s walking time plus a 35 minute lunch stop (13.45-14.20) in Rothbury.

I stayed at the Anglers Arms in Weldon, having a magnificent meal of belly pork and blue cheese sauce followed by ginger sponge and custard. The Hobgoblin Gold (4.5%) was very well kept on hand pump. A truly wonderful hotel.

Monday 8^th August 2016    Weldon – Alnmouth

Medieval Tournaments

A storm had raged all through the night. At one point I got up to close the bedroom windows as the howling wind was shaking the room. But the sun was shining as I left the hotel and there was not a cloud in the sky. The first few yards were not consistent with the guide book. The signed route went under the A697 on an anglers' path along the riverbank before turning uphill back to the farm track. This was followed for some way and it was very easy going compared with yesterday. Except for one section of overgrown path, the section to Felton was a walk in the park. In fact that was just where it ended up, passing under the A1 and out into Felton Park with its peaceful old church in the trees to the left. I immediately came upon another church, this one being the parish church noticeable for its very low roof over the nave. Keeping to my pilgrimage objectives, I spend five minutes inside before descending to the attractive bridge over the river. The route continued along the right bank of the river into a very flat section of farm tracks, fields and narrow lanes. I passed under the East Coast Main Line which was to feature again later in my journey. Then the way turned left onto a tarmacked bridleway which led directly into Warkworth. I could see the castle up ahead with its flag flying in the sunshine. The castle was pack out with visitors watching re-enactments of medieval tournaments. However I could still buy a ticket to view the castle and I spent a wonderful half hour watching the pageants from the majestic old keep. Then it was a quick dash into town to get a coffee and Victoria sponge cake.

 
I crossed the River Coquet for the last time and climbed a steep hill towards the golf course and the sea. This dropped me through a car park and on to a huge sandy beach and the Northumberland Coast Path. I was to follow this for the rest of my trip. I was faced with a two mile plod up firm sand close to the water. This took me right up to the River Aln as it flowed in a channel across the beach and out to sea. The town of Alnmouth was tantalisingly close across the water. I could almost reach out and touch it. In retrospect I should have taken my shoes and socks off and waded across. I was later told by my landlady that this would have been quite safe. But I did not know the depth and flow rate of the river so I turned inland and followed the official route for three miles round to the main bridge. So, an hour later than I needed to have been, I arrived at my b&b. I had a quick shower and changed so I could take a look round this lovely village, but as soon as I started my tour it started to rain. So I was driven into a pub to shelter. What can a man do?

Weldon dep. 09.14, Alnmouth arr. 16.20, GPS 17.47 miles in 6hr 04m 30s walking time plus a 70 min break in Warkworth to see the castle and have some refreshments.

I stayed at the Old Granary in Northumberland Street in Alnmouth. I ate at the Sun Inn, duck confit with a couple of pints of Golden Sheep (4.7%) from Black Sheep Brewery.

 

Tuesday 9^th August 2016    Alnmouth – Seahouses

Pub and Castle

Last night’s rain had cleared as I set out under blue skies into a chill north westerly. This blew in cloud and light drizzle as the day went on and I ended up wearing my waterproof (just to keep warm). The route left Alnmouth over two golf courses, the second of these, Foxton Hall, led me back to the beach. I tramped up the wet sand to Boulmer and then went ashore onto wonderful grassy tracks round headland after headland. This brought me to Craster where the smoke was seeping out of the roof of the fish-smoking house. I hope they have got authorisations for the air emissions.

Beyond Craster, the way is over well-walked grassland dominated by the view of Dunstanburgh Castle on the next headland. It must be one of the most evocative sights in England. There was little point in stopping to view the ruin: it is best seen from a distance. So I hurried on into a wetting drizzle and quickly came round to the tiny hamlet of Low Newton and shot into the Ship Inn with is Brewhouse. I tried a pint of their home brew and sat outside with a bag of peanuts. But it was too cold to sit for long and there was more drizzle in the air.

I continued along the coast path passing several groups of youngsters practising for their Duke of Edinburgh’s next month. More grass and golf courses took me to Beadnell, a not very attractive village of bungalows facing the sea. I took to the beach again north of the last house to avoid two miles of road walking and then had to scramble up through the dunes back to the road to get over the next stream. A fun-fare was making a racket as I entered Seahouses and here I turned right over another golf course to reach the last headland before the harbour. I followed Main Street through the town centre and out to the edge of town to find my accommodation for the night. I showered and changed so that I could have a quick look around the shops and harbour, but I easily succumbed to temptation and slipped into the Olde Ship Inn for a pint. 

Alnmouth dep. 08.54, Seahouses arr. 15.35, GPS 18.31 miles in 6hrs 13m 38s walking time with a pub stop at the Ship in Low Newton (13.30 – 14.10). Drank a pint of Sandcastles at Dawn (3.8%) brewed at the pub.

I stayed at Ugiebrae, Main Street, Seahouses. I had a drink in the Olde Ship Inn, Sundancer (3.5%) from High House Farm Brewery and ate at the Spice Garden Indian Restaurant (yes, you’ve guessed, it was Cobra beer!)

 

Wednesday 10^th August 2016    Seahouses - Lindisfarne

End of a Pilgrimage

I was early down for breakfast with my rucksack packed and ready to go. There was to be no easy start today. I had a bus to catch! I strode up the old railway line out of Seahouses, seeking the inland route over to Bamburgh. This was a mixture of fields and lanes, with little sign of them ever being used. Most walkers must go down the foreshore. I found myself on the road beside the castle which was a dominant feature above the village. I took the unofficial way across the cricket pitch and through the dunes but I was soon back on the road to the golf course. I crossed the course to Budle Point and then turned inland following the signs. I then met a section with clear metal signs taking me across and out of a caravan site. This left me on a lane which led up to the very busy B1342 where I had to turn left back towards Bamburgh to pick up the route again. I probably put on an extra half a mile in getting round this dubious unofficial diversion. Then there was a fiddley section around Wetton Mill before I got back onto a field path with a purpose.

I followed a series of roller-coaster fields until I could see Belford below me. I headed down to a crossing of the east coast main line which instructed me to ring the nearby signal box before crossing. I then came across the A1 with standing traffic following an accident: Through the village it was quiet and then I left town via Westhall after which I made a pig's ear of route finding up to Plantation Farm. Although there was no trod on the ground the way to Swinhoe Farm was more obvious. I then picked up a wide forest track that wound passed some reservoirs. Here I had my only stop of the day, just a ‘splash and dash’.

Just beyond this point, the route was joined by St Cuthbert’s Way which I followed down through fields and woods out onto the lane to Fenwick  Here it started raining in earnest and I was fully coated in rain-proofs as I crossed the A1 and came upon a party of Germans waiting to re-cross the east coast main line. Again the signalman was rung but this time the answer was ‘nein’. The Germans were momentarily confused but soon realised why when a Virgin train thundered passed on its way to Kings Cross. A second ‘phone call gave us the all clear and I was away passed the party of walkers and heading for the causeway. It would probably have been safe to cross the staked line across the sands but it was raining again and the route looked very wet and muddy. So I chickened out and set out along the busy road. I was soon able to get off tarmac onto the verge. The town of Lindisfarne took an age to get closer as the causeway curved around in a great arch. But eventually, with the rain now quite heavy, I came to the last bend before the packed car park. I continued quickly passed and on to the Priory where I gave my thanks to St Aidan for a pilgrimage safely and successfully completed.

Seahouses dep. 08.24, Lindisfarne Priory arr. 16.04, GPS 23.82 in 7hrs 36min 40sec walking time and a five minute break for an energy gel.

 
Aftermath

I changed out of my wet walking clothes in the gents’ toilet. Then I checked the bus times and went across the road for a coffee and carrot cake. Leaving it late to go out into the rain once more, I got back to the bus stop to find a long queue. For a few moments I thought I was in danger of not getting on but the bus driver packed us all in with standing room only for several passengers. I had been chatting in the queue with John from Hull who was also desperate to get off the island and catch a train. So when the bus pulled into the station car park at Berwick, he and I shot into the nearest pub for a very quick pint, Belhaven (it is near Scotland!), but I was dying of thirst. Back on the platform, John and I parted, he to go south and me to take a Cross-country Train to Glasgow Central. This was generally on schedule and I had time to get another ticket and jump on a Scot rail train to Ayr to visit my daughter and grandchildren.

I had walked 104 miles on a very diverse route of moor and mountain, river bank and coast path. I now needed a rest but was unsure whether a few days with the grandkids was going to provide it.