The farm track grows narrower and comes over a rise. The sea is ahead. Now I have a choice: (a) go down and walk along the shingly beach, or (b) stick to the footpath over the top of the cliffs.
I decide to opt for the route that’s easiest on my feet, and best for enjoying the views, and so I choose the cliffs.
I start my walk from Haverigg, where pastel-painted houses line the little harbour. It looks very pretty in the clear light of a November morning.
Today I’m heading northwards, and my walk begins along a wonderful stretch of sand, fringed by dunes. The tide is low at the moment and the only thing to spoil my enjoyment of the beach is the fact the sea is nowhere to be seen! Continue reading
It’s another 3-4 miles to Millom, and after my snack lunch I resume my walk along the bank, heading southwards and into the sun.
On my right I pass a ruined brick structure, which at first I think might be some left over WW2 defences, but the rusting silhouette of a flying duck makes me think it’s probably used as a bird hide now. Continue reading
It’s early November and, after a few days of rain, an optimistic weather forecast has brought me back to Cumbria. My husband drops me off at Broughton in Furness, or – to be more accurate – beside the now-closed pub at High Cross on the A593 / A595 junction.
The road to Duddon Bridge curves ahead. It’s been an extraordinarily mild and calm October, and the leaves haven’t yet fallen from the trees. The autumn colours are glorious.
It’s just a short walk today. My husband drops me off at the station in Kirkby-in-Furness. We’re meeting for lunch in Broughton, and then heading home to Lincolnshire.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem possible to walk along the river bank from Kirkby, and so I march up the road, heading northwards. It’s a glorious Sunday morning. I meet cyclists and joggers, and very little traffic.
I don’t see anything of the village of Askam, because I stick to the shore.
Out in the marsh are a number of boats, including this ugly old tub which I bet never sails anywhere. I’m sure it’s used as a houseboat. It even has a golf putting green nearby. Continue reading
My husband drops me off at the Dock Museum in Barrow. The tide is out this morning, so the view down Walney Channel is very different from yesterday. After navigating a litter-strewn dock, I head down the promenade – a combined cycling and walking route.
From Barrow railway station, I walk down Abbey Road. Funny how this walk, which I’ve only completed 3 times, now seems so familiar to me. In the rootless, restless life of a long-distance walker, places we visit more than once begin to seem like old friends.
Yesterday was a long march – 17 miles – and mostly along roads. And so, from the bottom of Abbey Road; I shave a couple of miles off today’s route by catching a bus over to Walney Island. I’m starting my walk at the place I left the shore yesterday, Sandy Gap.
The road down from Barrow station – Abbey Road – is lined by interesting buildings, some in various stages of decay. An old bath house, a conservative club, a Nan Tait centre… but I try not to dawdle because I have a long day ahead.
I cross over to Barrow Island and stop on the bridge to take photographs. The air is clear and the water is calm and still. First I take a photo looking down towards Buccleuch Dock.
Then I look over Devonshire Dock and take a photograph of a large building with a sign saying ‘BAE Systems’. I suspect this is the hangar where the nuclear subs are fitted out, although I don’t know for sure. Continue reading
I catch the morning bus to Baycliff and walk down to the beach, where a flock of noisy seagulls is chattering on the sands. Visibility is poor, and I can barely see across to the other side of Morecambe bay.
Although there is no public footpath marked on my map, I’m hoping to be able to stick to the shore today. I’ll see how far I can get, anyway. Continue reading