12 April 2011
I awoke later than usual, which was great and headed downstairs to make breakfast. Val had bought this beautiful homemade granola from a local baker and it was sooo good to eat real food again. How I miss my own home-made granola!
Val was more than happy for me to throw a load of washing in her machine and 15 minutes later our clothes smelt wonderful clean. So they should of course but let’s just say my hand washing skills while enthusiastic, may not be as good as they could be. I hung the clothes up in the van and then we spent a couple of hours leisurely getting our act together before hitting the road again.
What can I say? It was a great stop for us and I felt so fantastically relaxed and happy I really didn’t want to leave. It really is a shame we live so far apart but I know we will catch up again sometime.
We drove through Grange Over Sands and out to Sandside. Quite an amazing view really. The sea completely disappears from the bay at low tide leaving a vast expanse of sand. It looks amazing but signs warn people not to go for a walk. There are dangers of quicksand and fast approaching tides. Apparently a group of Chinese shellfish collectors were caught unawares several years ago and they all drowned.
Val told us the lamb from the salt marsh fields in this area is considered a luxury meat. I can well imagine it is as the high mineral content and saltiness of the pasture must give the meat a beautiful flavour. A bit like our beef tastes fantastic when slaughtered in summer because of all the willow it has been eating.
The rest of the morning we spent meandering through back country lanes until we reached Hawes in the Yorkshire Dales. We parked at the Info Centre and got ourselves some brochures and then walked around town. For a small place it was packed with people, mostly tourists, judging by all the people in hiking gear, carrying walking sticks.
It was a overcast, grey day with an icy bite in the air. We dithered about whether to go for a walk or find a campsite and then walk. In the end we decided to find a campsite first. There was one a mile out of town so we went there. It was nice enough and quite busy but even though we paid 14.50 pound they wanted extra for everything, including showers. We’d had a shower at Val’s so decided to skip them this time.
At the campground reception the lady kindly lent me a brochure on local walks. It was £2.50 to buy one but when I said we were only going to do 1 walk she lent me one.
We looked at the pattern of lines on the brochure and decided on a nice looking walk. It wasn’t a topographical map but we surveyed the countryside behind the campground and guessed the route we would be taking. It looked manageable so we donned rain jackets and set off down the road. About 200 metres down a sign signaled the walkers path through a sheep paddock. As per usual there were little lambs everywhere. We walked through about 6 paddocks, connected by cutouts in the stone walls. The cutouts were so skinny I had to walk sideways to get through and the last one was so skinny my butt almost had me wedged tight. I started laughing of course. I wondered how many people got to the last one before realizing they weren’t going to make it.
We came out in a small hamlet of maybe 20 houses and then turned right and started heading upwards through more paddocks.
From there we walked up steep paddocks, over ridges, down hills and then up to the next stone wall. They were enormous marshy paddocks and as we approached the 3rd stone wall I felt sure we were going to reach the road. But no, it was the 3rd. It must be the 4th. But no it wasn’t the 4th either. We finally found the road about 90 minutes into the walk and in the end it was either the 6th or the 7th paddock and we were only 1 paddock away from the top of the bloody mountain.
At that point I started to get the shakes. I needed a quick hit of food and we hadn’t even brought water with us. We looked at the walking map and realized the loop we were planning to walk was in fact about 4 miles away.
Quickly we amended our walk and decided just to do the Ring of Yorburgh (Aaron’s name for it. It was Yorburgh track or something like that).
I have to say the views in the Dales are just amazing. There’s just vast expanses of open paddocks everywhere but for some reason the place is just beautiful. Aaron and I were both convinced we could live there. Even with the harsh winters they have.
We wandered up the farm road for ½ a mile and then cut back into another paddock, which then took us across to a ridge and then on a gradual decline down the hill again.
Finally we got back to the campground 3 hours after we started and I was still shaking. My hips had also started to seize in pain. However, we had decided only half an hour earlier that what we really needed was alcohol and it would require a trip back into town. Aaron settled himself down with a book and I donned the backpack. It was already 4:45pm so I needed to get a move on. I part jogged all the way into town.
There was a fantastic deli / supermarket still open and I spent a good 10 minutes perusing the shelves trying to decide what to buy. I filled the backpack with essential supplies and then started the slow trek home again. I say slow because as soon as I stopped at the supermarket my hips decided enough was enough and partially locked up. I couldn’t even phone Aaron to come pick me up (damn and blast) so I limped my way back.
I drank plenty that evening and the pain subsided until the early hours of the morning and then I lay there cursing my age.
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