To describe day eight I have to finish the story of day seven because as it turns out they became connected. As I was sitting in the pub at the George Hotel in Orton watching Wales and Ireland play their soccer match, my main occupation after posting yesterday’s blog, a huge crowd of eight people loudly entered the bar. They took the table next to mine and asked to borrow some of the extra chairs at my table. Looking up to reply in the affirmative, the gentleman asking and I recognized each other simultaneously. It was Mal, from Australia, who I had met, along with his wife Idris, on the train into St. Bees those many days ago. They were meeting another Australian couple in St. Bees to do the whole Coast to Coast walk as well. We parted ways in St. Bees to our respective hotels and I never saw them again nor even thought much of it- a chance encounter. Until that moment at the George Hotel in Orton. I looked in amazement at his group, which was quite a bit larger than just two Australian couples. After inviting him and whomever was with him to share my table (they needed extra seats) Mal explained that on day two they had run into a group of four women who were hiking half of the route and more or less the two groups joined up- creating the large group before me. The four women were staying at the George and Mal and his friends were staying a few miles down the road at the next village but they agreed to get together for dinner and that is why they wandered into the bar and found me.  So instead of sitting in the pub by myself watching soccer I found myself surrounded by a bunch of new friends.

The start of the trail this morning. Not sure how they keep the thin stripe a darker green!

As seemed to be the custom we exchanged walking stories and tales of the trail, discussions that mainly concern the weather or getting lost. Although the route is pretty well documented there are a large number of variations depending on your pace and ambitions and the group had a longer day to Orton then I had.  They had stayed at Brampton the day before, not venturing as far as Shap as I had adding five more miles to their trek for day seven. What that meant for them, unfortunately, is that they got wet! After chatting pleasantly with them for 45 minutes or so the group transferred to the hotel restaurant for dinner. Even though they invited me, I declined as I was focussed on the soccer matches. Overall it was a pleasant surprise to see them again and, again, shows how small the world is.

The stone circle. Not sure what it signifies, but I took the picture…

Breakfast was served starting at 8am and when I entered the breakfast room the next morning it was almost full- everyone was eager for an early start. The target for the day, for everyone, it seemed, was Kirkby Stephen, a 12-ish mile hike cross country (of course) across the moors. The weather was supposed to be great up until about 4:00pm when some rain was in the forecast. I was not worried- eight hours to go twelve miles was not a problem. Sitting down I noticed the four women from the previous evening were already there and we exchanged good mornings.

A picture of the moors along with the faint track that shows the path for us.

I set off at 8:30am a bit ahead of everyone else- they were getting lat minute things taken care of but I was ready to go, so I went. The first order of business was to join the trail. Orton lies slightly off the main route to the south and I had to find a good place to join. Looking at my topo map I saw several different footpaths that were possible, but I selected the one bringing me close to something call the “stone circle”. About 30 minutes later I saw the stone circle, which was, unsurprisingly, a circle of stones sitting in a pasture with sheep surrounding them. According to my book (how many times have I already typed those words “according to the book”!) today’s walk consisted of a tour of ancient England with many archeological sites along the way. The stone circle was the first of many such sites.

Beautiful area where the path went through especially dense patch of flowers.

About that time an American couple passed by, only the second set of Americans I had seen since St. Bees. I found out later they were from Alaska. Ahead of them in the distance was another group of four. That group was not moving very fast and after about 30 minutes I caught up to them. They were two couples from southern England and I walked with them for about an hour. Like many of my conversations with Britons the conversation, after the standard comparison of notes about the walk, turned to the recent “Brexit” vote. Everyone I talked to, without prompting, immediately and spontaneously expressed their dismay and bewilderment that the vote to exit the EU had passed. Several were angry; no one thought it was a good idea. All had different theories about what had happened (I am not going to go into all the details here) and none though the story was over. As an aside- and this is all I will mention on this subject too- invariably after bemoaning the whole “Brexit” mess, everyone then turns to me and asks “What’s up with this Trump character?”. Not much I can say to that….

An example of some of the scenery from today.

More scenery from today.

I did not stay with this group for long as they were not moving fast and I got the sense they were content to be a foursome so saying good-bye I continued on my way. Walking across the moors you can see for vast distances unlike the steep and changeable landscape in the Lake District. It was pretty too but in a different way. The ever present rock walls again served as useful navigation guides. Occasionally I would stop to take another post-card picture. It was very pleasant and peaceful, at least until I heard rock music blaring in the distance, the sound traveling easily across the open spaces. I could not see where it was coming from but only noted that as I moved east it was getting louder. I crested a hill and the music suddenly got really loud and looking off to the south saw a building that looked like an isolated farmhouse with a multitude of campers and tents sprawled across the lawn. The path crossed a small lane, which must have led to the farm, then came a tricky navigation point. The American couple I had seen earlier were stopped and looking at their maps so I joined them and we consulted. (This is when I found out they were from Alaska). In the meantime looking back I saw another group of six coming up the trail; it was my friends from the night before. So I waited on them and walked with them the rest of the day, chatting and enjoying the countryside.

The pirate flag compound!

The day remained pleasant (no rain and not much wind) and the scenery was beautiful but in a much more tamed way than the Lake District. The moors were sprinkled with small yellow and white and pink flowers, the ever present sheep and rock walls, occasional stands of trees, and every now and then horses. The terrain was generally gentle climbs and downhills over soft grass so it was an easy trek. We passed various limestone ruins and some barrows, which, quite frankly, without the insight from the book, I might not have noticed for what they were. But I dutifully took pictures since it was historic.

The stone village ruins.

Around 1:30pm we reached our goal, Kirkby Stephen, a fairly large town- population 2000. The group split up, some going for coffee, some for lunch and some heading to their hotel. I easily found my B&B for the night but the sign on the door said “rooms available after 4” so I did the next best thing I could think of- went to find a pub for some food and to catch the 2:00pm soccer match. Now, cleaned up and fed, I am writing this in the lounge of the B&B watching the 5:00pm match with plans to go meet the group for drinks around 6:30pm. (It really never rained today either!) I already checked the weather for tomorrow and it looks like another great day. The theme for tomorrow is: bogs and more bogs, so a dry day will be helpful.