I had an early night last night and so when I went down to breakfast this morning I finally had a chance to meet the six other people who had spent the night at the Hermitage Bed and Breakfast with me. The building was a large 300 year old farmhouse and our hostess has lived in it for fifty years. All six other guests, two couples and a pair of young women traveling together, were also walking the Coast to Coast. They had arrived late in the evening, likely after I had already gone to sleep. Comparing notes, it seemed everyone but me was planning to walk the 20 miles to Kirkby Stephen today. My path for the day took me only eight miles to Orton, with a continuation to Kirkby Stephen the day after. I have noticed that many people plan on doing the Coast to Coast in twelve days, which requires the back to back 16 to 20 miles stages. After hearing some of their stories I am very happy with my 18 day (inclusive of two rest days) stroll across the country. Inevitably the subject of weather came up, a subject I was interested in as I had no chance to check the forecast the previous night. One of the gentlemen said that the rain would start around 1:00pm and be fairly steady for the rest of the day. This only reinforced my happiness at facing a short stage. With only eight miles (only!) I knew I could be at Orton before the rain started.

The B&B I stayed at in Shap. A 300+ year old farmhouse (a large one!).

Having finished breakfast everyone prepared to start their walk, each of us striding off at different intervals. I was the second “group” to leave. The two couples left in front of me and the two young women were still preparing as I headed out around 8:30am. It was sunny but there were clouds off to the west that looked dark, but not yet threatening. Overall it was a perfect morning for walking and was bright enough that I got out my sun hat. There would be no shade on the walk as the map indicated moors and pastures were the terrain of the day (yay, no rocks!). I casually wandered along, not in a hurry because I had a mere eight miles; it felt like a short walk around the block after the day before. Assuming the weather prediction was accurate I had four and a half hours and that was more then enough for me to take my time and enjoy the day.

Looking back west towards the Lake District from the bridge over the highway. One-third across England!

Crossing some railroad tracks, the first sign of modern civilization I had seen in a while, I ventured up over the first of many rock walls. I am still amazed at how many ways gates can be latched and how many different, inventive ways exist to get over the top of rock walls (they are called stiles). Reflecting back, I should have been photographing them for official record keeping- maybe that can be a subject of another trip! The path led to a pedestrian bridge over the M6 highway, which was loud and obnoxious, and I was anxious to leave this symbol of hustle and bustle behind. However I paused on the bridge and took a picture facing west, back towards the Lake District. The bridge marked an important milestone. At this point, I had crossed, geographically, a third of England. Because the way the Coast to Coast route winds around I had not quite finished a third of the mileage (but I’m close) but I felt, in any event, it was an important milestone to mark.

One type of the many stiles that I climbed to get over numerous rock walls.

I meandered on for about two hours, following rock walls, climbing over rock walls, using rock walls as landmarks and observing the countryside, in total peace. I noticed at one point about six or seven people more than an half mile ahead of me. No doubt four of them were the two couples from breakfast. They would appear and disappear over the hills. The path was fairly straightforward and clear for the first two hours and then I hit an intersection in the middle of a field. No rock walls- which were incredibly handy for navigation. Instead I was faced with several different beaten down grass paths across the pasture in different directions and a sign that I decided was not very helpful. There are seemingly infinite public footpaths, or right-of-ways, all over England so unless a sign has the distinctive markings of the “C2C” emblem, they might not necessarily help. I was standing there studying my map and my book, referencing my compass, when four gentlemen caught up to me. Two from England and two Canadians, who themselves, had met along the trail.. The four of them were heading to Kirkby Stephens and I ended up joining them. Between us we had three different kinds of maps so navigation now became a lot easier, although the rock walls soon came back so it was not that difficult in the end.

Can you see the different grassy paths leading off in various directions? I have repeatedly found my compass very useful!

View of some old ruins in a pasture with the sky darkening in the background to the west.

Walking along a rock wall in a pasture with my day’s companions.

Me, decked out in the latest in hiking gear. Kindly taken by one of my Canadian friends.

All in all it was very pleasant-the sun was out, even though clouds were gathering to the west, the temperature was comfortable and the pace unhurried. I hiked along with them for about two hours, chatting about this and that, and before too long I had to turn off for Orton. I thanked them for their company and we parted. I had about a mile to go and they had twelve. And, of course, at that moment it started to rain. We had seen it on the horizon but were not sure how quickly the front was moving. All along they knew at some point they were going to get wet but I was hoping to stay dry. No such luck. Knowing I was close to my destination I simply put on my rain jacket and trudged along, looking for a short cut across a pasture (I found one!). I easily found my hotel for the evening, the George, as it was in the center of the not too large village, but it was early, only noon and my room was not ready (nor had my luggage arrived).

I was Ok with that, since it was lunch time, and the rain had stopped. Being hungry and needing to kill some time, I went across the street to a cafe I knew I wanted to visit. My book had mentioned the “chocolate cafe” in Orton and there was no way I was going to miss that. Sure enough as I walked in I was faced with two cases of speciality chocolates, truffles, and other confections- in the middle of small village off the beaten path in the middle of England. Since they had a cafe I sat down and had a cheese toasty with a small salad followed by a Dorset apple cake with cream. To top it all, a hot chocolate, of course. It was a popular place, crowded with bicyclists, who looked like they stopped for a bit while it rained. (They were wet, like I was.)

One of the two cases of delicious chocolate (I had a sample!)

After a delightful and filling meal I decided to explore the village a bit before checking back at the hotel. The book mentioned that the village church was built in the 1200s and in use ever since so I thought that was worth a look. Also, somewhere in the village was a store and I wanted to find a waterproof map case that I could hang around my neck. I had seen some others with them and really liked the convenience of the concept. As I approached the lane leading to the church I came across a huge number of cars and a few women dressed up, complete with hats, looking their Sunday best. I found, to my delight, as I turned the corner of the lane and reached the  church entrance, that there had just been a wedding. The crowd was dispersing but the bride and groom were still getting their photos taken. I watched from off the side until they were finished and went in the church to take a look. It was small and furnished simply but the ceiling was wood and very old and solid looking.

Village church since the 1200’s.

Going back down the lane I turned right and found the village store and some more cyclists. The store was small and packed with a bit of this and a bit of that, reminding me of corner stores I used to visit in Moscow in the late 1990’s. The woman behind the counter asked if she could help me and with little hope I asked if they had transparent, waterproof map cases. They had one. We were both amazed. I mentioned the wedding and she told me that they only have four or so a year since the community is so small. I just happened by on the right day.

Having spent about over an hour exploring I headed down the street to the George to see if I could check in, and more importantly to see if my luggage had arrived so I could clean up and put on some dry clothes. Arriving there I found to my delight, I could and it had.

My dry spot in the rain for the day and the evening. In the small village of Orton.

The George is another old, old building. My room is only slightly wider than the single bed that occupies it. I have a toilet and sink in my room but the bath (not shower) is separate, out the door and up a few stairs. I am apparently sharing it with someone (who had not arrived yet). They thoughtfully supplied robes for the trek to the bath. It’s really great and throws you back in time a bit. I got cleaned up and migrated down to the common room/pub where I could watch soccer and access the wi-fi to upload day 6 and this one. As I sit here writing this, it is raining steadily and has been almost all afternoon; it even hailed for a while! I checked the weather and tomorrow, for my 12 mile trek to Kirkby Stephens, it will be sunny and clear. So here I am, happy as a clam, watching the games and the people go by. (More drenched cyclists came in- I was chatting with one of them and they still have 40 miles to go today- it’s still raining). Wales and Northern Ireland are getting to ready to play and the place is filling up again. What a great way to spend the afternoon!