Once again, my trail has brought me to Glasgow to see Mum. The hiking boots and the rucksack went south and I came north. Just a Virgin train and the No 4 bus from Central Station and I'm quickly back in another world. I had said that I would come and visit again now, but my arrival is always a surprise these days, a pleasant one I believe....
Monday. Our last day and we woke in the cotton-sheet, fluffy-towel, feather-pillow luxury of Grosmont House to a day already hot. Breakfast was served by the lovely Selma and her sidekick, Mary, the perfect understudy for Mrs Overall and a purveyor of morning cabaret - curt, grumpy and graceless meets wacky, natural comic genius. She warmed up slowly but it was worth the wait. While Jim wrestled with the frustrations of car parking at Grosmont station (long story - best not to ask), we three were entertained by the daft delights of Mary! Then off. This final leg starts with a...
On Friday we spent the day walking across three of North Yorkshire's glorious moors. Their names are intriguing: Live Moor, Carlton Moor, Cringle Moor. An Aussie hiker had asked me at breakfast to explain what a moor was. The question had surprised me and my reply, I'm sure, did not do justice to the moors. In the evening, over a beer with an Australian couple we've met over the days of this journey, I realised that 'moors' are something which Australia does not possess in the way that we do, for which its inhabitants have no proxy. This led to...
We were in Keld. All was fine. Monday evening spent happily in Keld Lodge, a former youth hostel, now a simple hotel at the halfway point on the C2C. On Tuesday, a dry, mild day of weather at last and the glorious riverside trail along the Swale. A highlight because you can stride out, look about and think beyond your footsteps, contemplate the journey you're making. Gone are the days when you need to take care with every step and your mind is absorbed in making it to the overnight stop in one piece. You're fitter after 100 miles and...