A COASTAL WALK ON THE CAMINO NORTE PART ONE

"SELF-PORTRAIT with RED HAIR and STRIPED OVERSLEEVES"

With just 3 more sleeps before I go back to the Camino,this time to walk the Northern route,flights all booked,the return flight 20th November gives me 2 months of walking,not that I think it will take 2 months to walk the "Norte" its just that the flight on the 20th was the cheapest I could find,and funds are a bit low.

I finance my walks by buying and selling on ebay something I have done for years and just when I think I have enough I go and spend the equivalent of 5 nights sleeps on a large framed exhibition poster of Egon Schiele from Austria found in a charity shop today.

I was introduced to this artist by son number 2 just before his 18th birthday.

 when asked what he wanted for a present he replied a weekend in Amsterdam smoking dope in the cafe's there (you have to be 18 to do this) I said ok,later he changed his mind and asked if we could go to an exhibition of this artists work in the same city even though it finished 2 weeks before his birthday and meant he could not go in the brown cafe's,I can go in them another time he said,

This is when I first realised my son was fast becoming a man.

A great weekend was had with this new mature person,and I learned to share his love of this artist.

 he now lives in Cardiff and makes a small living, now selling his own artwork. http://www.tom-kitchen.co.uk/

 he used to have problems painting hands and went through what I called his "fugitive" period where he painted one armed men,so when I saw this hand dominated poster I couldn't resist it,so now it hangs on my wall a constant reminder of what great children I have.

Goodby to Lakeland Day 7

walked the farmers mile into Shap-seemed to take forever.
 Shap is on the A6 main road the highest road in the country and once the main arterial road through this area,long since taken over by the motorway M6 leaving Shap in its wake.
 called into its main pub to find it had let its rear garden out to campers for £10 and free cooked breakfast deal.the pub was full of singing carousing campers but for once was not in the mood,stocked up with food at the shop,dined on the English staple diet of fish n chips from the local chippy and headed back.
short days 8mile walk to Orton today crossing the motorway and on to the Limestone plateau with its prolific evidence of Prehistoric and Primitive settlements-met up with the Rhine-Maidens and walked a while with them,
 Later encountered the sweetest group of Americans ever. they were on a guided walking tour,camera's in hand full of enthusiasm and wonder,I could not help but be lifted by them,their joy was addictive,one chap was photographing all the strange flora that abounds in Limestone-he planned writing a guide on the walk based just on the flora,they kept going off on detours visiting stone circles and other remains led by their intrepid bearded guide only to join up with me further down the road always smiling happy to talk and full of questions -good people and a reminder that America is not full of tea party people.
 it was good to have a short day  and the village of Orton was beautiful an idyllic circular place with a great Country pub.I sat in its quite beer garden soaking it all up,was seen by the Americans touring the village who joined me their sunny disposition was undiminished,they were soon called to heel by the guide and off they went I miss them still.
 the camp site out of town was the best one yet,I slept well.
   day 8
 Kirkby Stephen 12 miles and my last day of walking

                                                                                          Kirkby Stephen is the second largest town on the coast to coast and at just short of the 100 mile point the half way point.the hills had done for me.
Kirkby has a train station, part of the Settle to Carlisle route the highest and most beautiful train journey in England and stopping in Leeds my home city was too good to miss,I spent my last evening drinking at a musical festival with the Rhine Maidens and a group of other young walkers carrying on till the end,but for me it felt like a completion the hardest part conquered and just gentle dales left,if it had been Spain and no easy route home I would have continued but carrying stoves and a tent and sleeping on the ground for 8 days while climbing small mountains was enough,I live to fight another day with lessons learnt
 Just booked my flight to Spain for the 20th September (£23) and the Camino Norte-well why wouldn't ya
  but will be leaving the bloody tent behind.

High Point to low point at Shap day 6

Day 6
 late getting going,feeling stiff this morning,takes a while to find my rhythm but got there in the end,just in time for the main climb of the walk to Kidsty pike the site of an old English fort and the highest point of the coast to coast

                           Half way up the climb looking back
The two figures are long legged German girls walking poles in hand taking it all in their stride not stopping to catch breath once
plus carrying all their gear including a tent I would meet up with them a lot in the next few days





 

                                           

  Standing on the top trying to keep my vertigo at bay sharing Lunch with the two girls from Dusseldorf reading from our guide books advising us to take our last view of Lakeland before heading steeply downhill to the reservoir at Haweswater and our days destination of Shap.
 we were joined by a middle aged man bagging Wainwrights ( climbing all the peaks in Lakeland over a certain height) stopping just to eat a sandwich he bounded off like a mountain goat with more pike's to climb,I consoled myself with the fact he probably didn't have a girlfriend.
 the climb down was hard very hard with the well walked track full of rocks all threatening to turn my ankle,each step jarring my aged knees,it seemed endless but I finally reach the bottom at Haweswater-just in time to see two young lads sliding down the steeper grassier route wearing their waterproof trousers whooping and shouting as they tobogganed down to join me and laughingly continue on their way
  the next 5 miles were spent just putting one foot in front of the other till I reached the outskirts of Shap and was drawn to a farm with a field of tents and caravans.£5 for the night and just a mile from the shops of Shap or so the farmer said.

Patterdale and Angle Tarn

Day 5
 loosing track of days,the walk down from Grisedale tarn starts off gentle and then slopes quite steeply down into Patterdale.
Patterdale is a lovely unspoilt village in an alpine setting surrounded by the Helvellyn range and sits next to the beautiful lake of Ullswater unchanged from my teenage years.
 I had the option of taking detours up Sunday Crag on the right or even Helvellyn (3118) itself and then on to Striding Edge,imaging a triangle and a footpath along the top edge with just enough room to walk,I have walked along the tops,but that was 40 years ago,oh to have those legs again,but have to make do with the ones I have now,so the easy route it was,I had breakfasted with the 4 other campers,none of us had intruded on the other the night before,now it was like we were best of friends having shared the vigil together,and agreed to meet up for a lunchtime drink in the only pub in town.
being a retired barkeep I can both talk and listen but mainly talk(on most subjects under the sun) and met many people on the way down,mostly on their way up out for a mornings walk,if I could have carried a small bar I could have set up shop at places along the way and done a roaring trade,my arms propped up on the bar putting the world to rights.
so I was a little late for the Lunchtime drink but my breakfast companions were still there enjoying the break,it would have been a sin not to join them.

both were walking on further than me and left me in their wake as we climbed out of Patterdale,the camp site by Ullswater looked good but it was full of caravans and RV's and I fancied another night of solitude,so a by now familiar afternoon of climbing to the tranquil Angle tarn.

the pic on the left was taken laying on the floor of my tent,the best front garden ever.

early morning risers on their way

 my tent is a single cell (mistake) and condensation forms on the inside waiting for the morning sun to dry it out-so fell asleep once more to be woken up by a flock of Canadian Geese landing on the tarn,one of whom came to take a look at the strange old bird at the edge.

Leaving Borrowdale coast to coast

Day 4
 struggled to put the tent up in Stonethwaite (love the sound of that name very northern very viking) I was that tired, strong sun and week knees had done for me,staggered to the shower and hot hot water revived me, food fulfilled me,took a stroll down the road to the pub,I love walking through small villages at twilight especially to English country pubs.
 the well lit pub was full of hikers but warm enough to sit outside,a trend I was beginning to find was that most if not all of the pubs in Lakeland had staff from Poland or other east European countries working behind the bar,a smiling  lad told me all the staff  lived on the premises  the cost taken out of their wages,he was happy and it brought a certain charm to this very typical of English establishments.
 all and I mean all of the drinkers had maps unfolded on the tables heads bent over as they viewed and planned the next days walk,I walked home humming Dylan's Back Pages "using ideas as our maps,ah but I was so much older then,I'm younger than that now"
 the night was cold and not much sleep was had till the sun rose and warmed both me and the tent and I then fell asleep till 10am  and caught the bus to Keswick the tourist capital of the Lakes,even after just 3 days in the hills the place seemed so surreal,every other shop sold hiking gear,very expensive hiking gear! and it seemed everybody in town was wearing it,the place had the look of an alpine sky resort,all the gear but no idea,but they looked good and I was able to stock up with things needed and treated myself to good food lots of good food,and retreated back to my campsite sated.
Day 5
 the route recommended by the guide today was 18 miles (30km) and included climbing up Lining crag-Eagle crag-Helm crag and summit rocks and that was just  halfway to Grasmere not the intended finish in Patterdale,so the new plan was to split the recommended routs in half.

looking back at Borrowdale and my haven of Stonethwaite it's good to see how high you climb in so short a time,it helps when you look foreword and see how high you still have to climb!!

more walkers were on the road today some even going all the way to Patterdale but they left me in their wake as they stormed up Lining crag just 2 miles from the village but already I was tiring





they are difficult to see but a bunch of the hardier souls took a break at the top and shouted encouragements to me as I struggled up the path (path!!!) on the left bless em.
this was getting serious,people fall off these things

lunch was taken at the top but it was bottled oxygen that was needed

       my brunch companions were a Belgium couple similar age to me,good people who I would continue to see over the next few days,like most of the other walkers they were staying in expensive bed and breakfast places their gear transported between each place and just day packs carried during the walk.
 if I had the money I would have probably do the same
.few people camped out but those that did shared some of the best moments of the way with me so no regrets-no gain without pain right right?




Grasmere the destination for the day lays hidden in the distance round the corner on the far right.
 the path follows the beck most of the way and is very peaty and boggy like walking on a mattress. I slipped and fell twice.*******



"Grasmere is a lovely village in a setting endowed with sylvan grace and dignity,beloved of artists and poets and because of associations with Wordsworth,is known internationally and has become a place of pilgrimage" so my guide book says
but to my mind while still being a pretty village it had no soul just ye oldie tea and cake shops traffic jams and coach trips and two plush hotels,I drank a pint of cold beer brought to my table by a charming girl from Poland who carried my water bottle away and refilled it exchanged waves with fellow hikers finished for the day just waiting for their rooms to be ready so they could take their warm showers and lay on their linen sheets and sleep.
 no campsites here so time to wander lonely as a cloud and try and find one.
 word on the mean streets was what few campers there was were heading 3miles up (up!!) Grisedale pass to Grisdale tarn,it took a while to find a proper shop, food and a bottle of wine was purchased and up I headed

it took a while but made it I did,pitched the tent by the waters edge waved to the four other campers and watched the sun go down on this tranquil Cathedral stillness,
truth be known I was feeling a little down,I had made the mistake of buying a newspaper in town in search of sports results,but it was full of the horrors that had taken place in Norway the day before.
   when I was young I rarely cried but now I'm a father they flow like the wine I was drinking,but the setting helped,I'm not one for churches but these high open places never fail to fill my soul with peace
 as the sun was setting and it grew dark silhouetted figures started to appear on the horizon about 20 looking all the world like a band of marauding Indians about to invade the camp,they turned out to be a band of youngsters camping out on the far side of the tarn,their talk and laughter lulled me to sleep.
 In the morning on the walk down the other side they apologised thinking they had disturbed me,I told them no problem and to keep on enjoying life.