Bampton was one of those layovers not taken by the hardy who prefer to walk twenty miles a day, but it is a pleasant stop, as you can see:

The dry stone walls are gorgeous. Maybe the moss and ferns growing out of them are not good for the structure, but they are pleasing to the eye:

Some of the gate are beautiful, too:

The room at the B and B was spare. No kettle (all rooms have a kettle), no table or chair, no amenities at all except for this phone!

Being able to get one’s pint is serious business:

You would not believe what this truck is really for. Just to impress the point, here are two shots, front and side:

The answer will be at the end of the post.

Some establishments have limited hours:

Again, just to give a sense of the surroundings:

And the other direction:

Identity of the truck: It is the local fire truck!

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This sign is probably not legible, but it announces the official beginning of the walk, even though the walk itself is not official. In other words, it is not a National Trail, so it doesn’t have to have a lot in the way of signage, nor does it get maintenance except for what locals or walkers offer.

Typical view:

Uh-oh! What a big gate! Can’t get over it, can’t get under it, can’t get around it…

But lookee here, a style, way off to the side:

Isn’t this the sweetest bridge? One feels quite like Olga Korbut crossing it.

Just for those of you who think that this kind of a walk is like an amble through East Rock Park, here is a bit of evidence to the contrary:

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It is not quite the same writing from home, but welcome back to St. Bees.

How does the technologically savvy (hah!) traveler prepare?

Not to mention extra batteries for GyPSy (AA), the keyboard (AAA), and the camera. Having acquired a cheap cell phone for the UK ahead of time was most convenient. You can see its big fat charger plug in the photo. Having an Oyster Card for the Underground (not in the photo), though with more rides on it than was necessary, also saved time and hassle. I am keeping it for next year.

And here is the well-packed suitcase in the process of being unpacked. Those Eagle Creek zippered bags are great. Of course, you do have to remember what you put in each one!

Doesn’t Abbey Farm House have a pretty garden?

The Irish Sea looks so different from the North Sea. True, this photo was taken at low tide, but still….

This next picture is for the crossword crowd. It is a picture clue at a Monday level of difficulty. The first part has twelve letters. The second part has eight letters but the ninth letter of the first phrase crosses with the sixth letter of the second phrase. (That is legitimate, isn’t it?) Oh, and one more thing, Rex would hate it, but then he would never sanction a picture clue, no, not our Rex. But maybe Puzzle Girl would.

I am sorry to say that there is no prize–unless I can think of one–for the person(s) who figure out the answer.

I am such a sucker for flowers. But really, hydrangeas love living in England:

And for other things British, such as Her Maajesty’s post boxes built into walls:

Meet the eponymous ancestress of St. Bee’s. This is her best side, and if you care about her story, you can read it below.

There is a church in the town; I don’t think there is a town without a church, but this one has a cemetery with gardens:

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I can’t believe it is over!

But first two more items from yesterday.

I heard someone use “snicket” in a sentence, as in “turn left and go through the snicket.” That is one wonderful word.

As I was leaving the nature preserve, I encountered a long line of people filing in. We got to chatting and someone asked me if I was doing the Coast to Coast.

“Yes, I am,” replied I.

“Oh, one of our members just finished. Ray.” “Right, Ray,” said another.

“Ray? Ray Croft,” I asked?

“Yes, that is the one.”

“I know him!”

“Oh you are the lady he was talking about!”

“He helped me out along the section to Patterdale!” And here he is after we had our tea:

This morning I had a moment of panic. Left the farm, turned on GyPSy, and there was nothing but a black screen with the word Garmin showing. No search for satellites, nothing. I pressed every button, turned it off, turned it on, changed the batteries even though I had changed them last night. It had to happen today, the day I was on my own! As soon as I moved away from the big tree under which I was standing, she started to gear up! Phew!

I was glad that I walked through the first section yesterday because in the early morning it has a kind of you-are-in-a German-forest kind of feel, if you know what I mean.

This is what stepping stones look like when they are not under four feet of water:

Note that you can actually use them, as opposed to these, from one of the horrible rainy days, when you could not:

Yes, that is I, and that was one of the easier crossings that day.

There was a bit of tricky navigating through some boggy moor land, but I made only one tiny mistake. Yeay, me!!

Here is a shot of the North Sea. Since it was almost high tide, it looks a lot less dramatic than it would at low tide:

Can you see the gulls bobbing about?

You know who this is? It is Wilbur’s cousin. He is the you-know-what of the family. He does not do the happy dance, and he did not get a special bell from his maaaa-maaaaaa. Hmmm, maybe that is why he does not do the happy dance.

Would you believe the mother-daughter “outfits” here?

No flags were flying when I arrived in Robin Hood’s Bay, so I checked into my B and B and happily changed my boots for shoes, which I had carried with me, knowing that the suitcase would not arrive until late.

The bathroom is—well, see for yourself. Here is a picture called Socks In A Sink With Running Water:

Robin Hood’s Bay is a cute town:

Some of its citizens are pranksters, though:

Most people celebrate the finish of the walk with a beer. This was my treat:

It was good to the last drop:

The young girls who worked in the shop thought I was a complete nut case taking pictures of the latte, but Alex A said that people like pictures of food!

Wouldn’t it be awful to crash into these rocks?

Apparently, it was not so uncommon. If you have a minute, and if the plaque is legible, read this account of a rescue:

The tide being at its height, I could not pick up the obligatory pebble, but here is NZ 95348 04847, the official end:

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Location:Robin Hood’s Bay

Breakfast at 7:00 a.m. this morning so that I could accompany Tanya and Ian, who had a twenty-mile day, as they were on the final leg to Robin Hood’s Bay; accompany them as far as Littlebeck, that is, some seven miles from Glaisdale. On the way we saw some worthy sights and learned a few things.

Isn’t this a fine specimen of a bridge? The curious thing is that it does not connect anything to anything nor does it go over anything bridge-needful. Oh, well:

People say that challenging experiences make you grow. That is so true!

The toll for a hearse is more than the toll for a horse with two wheels but less than the toll for two horses with two wheels. That seems fair, don’t you think?

At the train station in Grosmont, we read some depressing, nay, grievous news:

On the other hand, things seem to be under control—-or not:

These fine ladies stopped traffic in both directions:

Just a sweet sight:

with a kitty on the roof:

When we got to Littlebeck, at 11:00 a.m., it was hardly time to call it a day, so I walked on with Ian and Tanya for another mile and a half. They decided to pass on the official path, which goes through a nature preserve, to save time and mileage. But finally, it was time to say good bye.

Ummm, guys, you are supposed to be looking sad. I did have a lump in my throat when we parted. It was wonderful walking with these new friends.

I consoled myself with the beauty of the day and the sights around.

This noble lion dispenses ice-cold water to the thirsty traveler:

Sometimes shots of flowers are irresistible; the colours are so vivid. Can you see the bees enjoying the thistle?

Another bright clump by the road:

I decided to walk part of the nature trail, the whole of which I will do tomorrow, because the sun was still high. and about a mile and a half into the preserve, there is a tea garden. The thought of a good cup of something to drink was a lure. Not only did this place by the falls

provide refreshment, but also relief:

Refreshed and relieved, I explored the area immediately surrounding the falls. Why look! The British have captured a Viking ship:

But, beware, a bit up-stream, danger lurks:

At last, almost fourteen miles later, I made my way up a long hill to Intake farm. There was a welcoming committee:

Dinner was to be on the premises. “Would you like lamb?” asked Judith. “You know what I would really like? A sandwich.” “That’s fine.” We settled on tuna, some crisps (chips), fruit, and a piece of cake. The sandwich was on homemade bread. So absolutely delicious! The chocolate cake was freshly baked today. I had all this with fruit and tea in a sitting room with a fire going–a real one, you know, that burns wood!

Through every window is a gorgeous view. There is wi-fi! I am the only guest here tonight, so it is pleasantly quiet.

Tomorrow I will be dependent on my own navigating skills. That means I may arrive a Robin Hood’s Bay later than one should. I did pay a lot of attention to Ian’s explanations of OS map, and I had a dream that I could read a compass. That is, without a doubt, significant.

Oh–the shower was excellent!

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Location:Leas Head Rd,Eskdaleside cum Ugglebarnby,United Kingdom

Another easy day and only ten miles. It is hard to know how to break up this last section. The possible combinations are either too short or too long. Tomorrow Ian and Tanya go straight to Robin Hood’s Bay, but I stop in Littlebeck.

After leaving the White Lion, we passed Fat Betty. I have no idea what this monument is for but here she is:

Can you see the candy wrappers near the top? Perhaps they were left by some rain soaked walkers as tribute to the sun god.

Isn’t this a beautiful patch of heather?

And the color of morning glories is spectacular!

Tonight’s B and B is plain but pleasant. It does have a breakfast room with a gorgeous view:

Tomorrow I hope to start out with Ian and Tanya. Then it will be just GyPSy (Get it? Arthur has been renamed; the new apt moniker is thanks to Mandy who, with John, took off on a long stretch two days ago), the map and me. I have so enjoyed the walk with Tanya and Ian. It will be hard to see them go.

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Yesterday, got up b and e in the a.m. so that I could backtrack to meet Tanya and Ian. Due to the early hour of departure, Chris, the jefe of the inn, offered to leave breakfast on tray outside my room. All I had to do was make coffee. How nice was that! To add to the perfection, the sun was shining.

The day’s walk had lots of upping and downing through the Cleveland Hills, but it was not overly difficult. It was the kind of day that leaves you feeling invigorated but not exhausted. We came across a structure that I thought might be our B and B for the night:

It wasn’t.

There was an oasis, though. About 2/3 of the way along, all of a sudden, from behind the trees, there appeared a large cafe. (Don’t you love the name?)

You can see other walkers taking advantage of the offerings. A cold soda tasted delicious.

Shortly after our refreshment, came the infamous Wainstones. I swear they were bigger and badder in 2007, but never mind. You are supposed to go through them, but see that little path off to the left?

We took that instead. Fortunately, there was some sturdy, scrubby stuff to grab onto whilst skirting the edge, as the path was a bit, shall we say, high and on the narrow side.

Finally we arrived at Clay Bank, which is nothing other than an intersection with a name. A phone call to Dave, owner of our lodgings, got us a lift down to his farm. What an experience!

Dave: not a hippy, just a 64 year-old former construction worker with grey hair down to his shoulders, a blue cord around his forehead, wearing a black MTV T shirt, who talked non-stop, and drove a filthy car. He turned out to be well-meaning and kind, but at the time, who knew!

We walked into his farm house, which was decorated with all manner of stuff —some pieces quite beautiful—crammed all over the place. Warn sofas, huge coffee table littered with biscuits in open packages, scads of old newspapers and magazines thrown about, a bowl of sugar into which a spoon had been dipped many times leaving tea clumps behind, a couple of bananas, a huge TV set–“Ahhh, jest put yer boots anywhere,” said Dave.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” “Yes, please.” He disappeared into his, oy, kitchen; messy doesn’t begin to describe it. One thing is for sure, the health department had not been around in quite some time. Amid the mess, there was no attempt to hide the bottles of booze in the middle of the table table.

Tanya leaned over and whispered, “Do you think it is safe?” She meant to drink the tea. Out came the tea in questionably clean cups, and Dave plopped down on the sofa to continue his tale about decorating the place and how he wanted it to look like a home and all. The scene, edging on the gothic, was only lacking guys, toting six packs, come to watch the game.

Up to our rooms. Here are two photos, but they don’t do it justice:

There were three beds in my room; everything needed a good scrub. Who knows the last time the bathroom had been cleaned, but there were frayed towels a-plenty and extra lose rolls of toilet paper sitting atop an antique piece in the hall. The mix of the crass and the beautiful was beyond weird.

Dave was generous with the Kit Kats and shortbread cookies. “Jest help yourself to whatever you want.” A filthy kettle was at the ready for hot drinks we might want to make.

Breakfast was more of the same–butter full of toast crumbs from who knows how many days of use, dirty dishes, but plenty to eat! Definitely an unforgettable experience.

Today’s walk was short and through the moors. This is what the moors look like:

Just to make the point, here is a shot in the same spot, facing the other direction:

And here are Tanya and Ian navigating:

Don’t they they look competent!

We arrived at the famous Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge by 1:00. This is my most expensive room en route because on weekends, singles pay full price and it seems that the price has doubled over the past year. The room is small:

While taking the photo, I was standing as far away from the bed as possible. The room is cheerful, though, has a wonderful tub and honest to goodness hot water to fill it. The heated towel rack works, so the laundry is almost dry. Amenities can compensate for a lot!

Off to the bar to socialize!

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Some people walk the 23 miles from Richmond to Ingleby Cross in one day. True, it is flat the whole way, but that is a lot of miles. Tanya, Ian, Mandy, and John and I broke it up into two days and we were all booked at the same B and B yesterday, only the B and B had overbooked, so Ian and Tanya had to spend the night elsewhere. The owners were very nice about it, invited them in for a lavish tea, and ferried them back and forth for dinner and again in the morning. (Let’s face it, they had to!)

One does not complain about flat, easy days, but then on such days, the scenery is less than spectacular. Never mind, it was not raining, the company was great, and we all had a good time.

Everyone seems to have a kvetch of some sort. Mandy: a terrible cough, Ian: a bad back, Tanya with her broken arm and foot pain. Other walkers have blisters, “postman’s heel” or some such. Yet, everyone soldiers on.
This is Mandy walking through a barley field, her shirt pinned onto her pack to dry. I love that she used real clothes pins!

Would you believe that rats do the coast to coast? No? Well here they are going over a style:

You can see how scared Tanya was:

Look at this fine bevy of beauties!

Everyone wants to get a turn:

C’mom Mandy, I know there is a yummy in your pack!

The two couples are at the B and B I stayed at last time, but I came to the adorable town of Osmotherly. This is what the houses look lie:

This is the first day it is warm enough to sit outside at 5:30–granted with a couple of sweaters and jackets, but what a treat. That I can pick up the wi-fi signal outside is an added bonus.

Tomorrow, early, I will backtrack to meet Ian and Tanya. Mandy and John are doing a 21 mile marathon, so our paths now diverge.

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Not that it is a big deal, but this post belongs before the next one. There was no wi-fi easily available for a couple of days, so I saved up the posts.

This morning’s breakfast in Reeth was elegantly served. One large table set with blue and white linens, English china dishes with classic, floral patterns, all very pretty and inviting. The cereals were in huge ceramic bowls on a tiered stand; there was a crystal bowl filled with pineapple and grapes, and of course, the usual yogurts, juices and milk. These were the h’ors d’oeuvres for those who eat a “cooked breakfast.” The coffee was for real and there was lots of it.

That was not the best B and B, though. Today’s, in Richmond is, and well it should be, as it is also the most expensive. But hey, tomorrow is a rest day, so I really get to enjoy it.

It turns out that Tanya and Ian are staying here for two nights, also. Happy coincidence! They are out for dinner right now. I “ate in.” (Sandwiches, chips and fruit from the grocery store.) Since this place is so comfortable, I decided to take advantage of the room and lounge to get sorted and to do some crossword puzzles. The one flaw: no wi-fi available, even though it is advertised.

The house that houses this B and B dates from the 17th century. If you can read this plaque, then you will know something of the history of it.

No, I guess you won’t because I don’t see the photo! Here is the story:

Mayor Willance was riding his horse in the fog, the horse went over a cliff, the mayor broke his leg and almost froze to death. He survived by sticking his leg into the carcass of his dead horse. The leg, which had to be amputated, was buried with him when, at a later date, he died. People around here are proud of that story, and here I am in his very house!

So what makes this B and B so special? It isn’t fussy or fancy, but the room is spacious, as is the bathroom, which has a REAL shower that–excuse me–I have to reach over to the jar of cookies to get one–ummm, shortbread, very good. There is also a jar of candy, a bottle of water, and, of course, tea and coffee making facilities. The lighting is decent; that is a rarity. Big, comfortable, four-poster bed, an extra quilt in the wardrobe, pine desk with easy chair. There is a window seat with a red, velvet cushion. Ceiling is beamed. Overall, a quiet, warm, open feel to the room. No wonder I didn’t want to go out!

Since I have been to Richmond before, I have a pretty good idea of how I want to spend the free day. No doubt, it will include walking, but without pack and boots. In fact, I intend to wear the yellow T shirt I snuck into the bag for just such an occasion. The weather should be fine.

Today’s walk from Reeth was like from heaven! About twelve miles of gorgeousness in perfect weather. See the calf? She was very sweet!

See the bull? He was ferocious-looking!

I love this sign! It is posted inside every phone booth. I hope it is legible.

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Location:W End,,United Kingdom

It is a wise and fine thing to have a rest day. The yellow T shirt never made it down Market Street, the weather not being sunny and warm, but it was a day without rain, so who can complain?

This B and B is definitely at the top of the list of all the B and B’s I have stayed in except maybe that off the charts one in Wales where the nobility came to hunt, the beds were so high off the floor you practically had to leap to get into them, the coverlets were satin, and alcohol, as much as you wanted, was free. That experience was like being plunked into a BBC Masterpiece Theater production during the era when the BBC had lots and lots of money to makes series such as The Pallisers.

(Alex A, are the paragraphs too long?!)

This place is more “normal.” Details I omitted yesterday were of the towels, so fluffy and absorbent and large! And the four-poster bed has curtains, would you believe. Breakfast was lovely. Little dishes of different fruits set out, which I thought were for all the guests, but soon realized were for me, since the proprietress replenished them when I had finished. (The others had not yet come down.) Many garnishes for the cereals, scones and croissants, three kinds of jams, also set out in little dishes on the table along with little pats of butter. Little seems to be the idea here but should not be confused with scant. Hot milk with the coffee; it makes all the difference.

After exchanging the yellow T for the nano puff (my ever so favorite jacket), off I went to Easby Abbey, of which you can see there is not much left:

Henry the VIII stripped this abbey for funds, and executed the monks by many different terrible means, such as burning, hanging, drawing and quartering and so on to make an example of them lest other clerics, on the “wrong side” be so unwise as to resist the king’s demand for their property.

Then came back to town to tour the Royal Georgian Theater, built in 1789 by Samuel Butler. I remember that it was 1789 because the guide repeated that date so often that is has become impressed in my memory like 1066. The tour was kind of like the backstage tour of the Met. Very interesting, indeed. Too bad that the next live production does not start until Wednesday. It would have been something to experience a play in a theatre so old–OK, it’s been refurbished, but still.

The rest of the day was spent walking around and eating. In short, I did on the rest day what I do every other day–walk, eat, and rest, but in different proportions! Eating and resting—dare I use the word “relaxing”–got top priority today.

Some pretty sights in Richmond, The River Swale:

Walking along a path through flowers:

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