Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking – Day 75 Parton To Flimby -29 August 2018

It’s a better journey out today as I get a direct train to Carlisle, then change and go south to Whitehaven.

Even better, the TPE arrives in Carlisle at 08:17, and I literally hop on to the Northern Service heading south at 08:18. That is what I call a connection.

The big kid in me has now done this entire line by train (that is Carnforth to Carlisle). A quick taxi ride at Whitehaven drops me in Parton. The driver offers to drop me off a bit earlier so I will get more coast in, but that involves doing a bit twice so I forgo.

It continally surprises me that the accents in this part of the country are near Geordie. The driver tells me that the past few days have been wet, but today it is not raining (even though ominous clouds hung Mordor like over the Lake District on the way up). It’s late summer though and I start in coolish weather, but the sun quickly heats up the day. A short climb out of the bay gives me a fine view of the coast and Whitehaven (much better than the miserable rain of St Bees head last week)

The path is also well defined here (infact it is a track , wide enough to take a cart, and reassuringly not as precipice like as last week). At the top of the cliffs , there is an old abandoned factory

and Workington lies ahead beyond wind farms.

All in all there are some fine views to be had, the mood really does boost when the weather is good and I am positively enjoying what is really a light stroll.

The first village I pass is Harrington, a pretty little port, although there is not much water in the harbour

However, let’s fast forward – the picture above was taken around 10am, compare it with the same scene I passed scene I passed on the train back at 2:30 pm

The tide must come in very quickly as I passed Workington harbour at 12:30 and it was in similar dry condition, when I passed again at 2pm it was full. I only have the before picture for that one though.

I did like the flower garden boat on the quayside. I think it will give Mrs R ideas for our garden, so we will gloss over it.

All in all , Harrington is a pretty little town

As I move along the coast there is more evidence of past industry – this looks like an abandoned railway spur, though I can’t work out where it would have gone. It may have collapsed into the sea at some point, and the line built further inland. This entire line hangs onto the coast and is just as vulnerable as Dawlish, however, not being in the fashionable south it doesn’t tend to get the headlines when the line is brought down by the waves. Infact in January 2014 the entire trackbed was washed away at Flimby – one month before the Dawlish line collapsed, leaving the tracks hanging in mid air. It took just one week restore it.  Shap quarry was specially opened to supply ballast.

And as you can see, its an ongoing job

I do like the closeness of the sea and the line, it makes for interesting pictures

There are also some tank traps, and lookout turrets dating from the second world war, when this coast was under threat of invasion, although I must say the tank traps are not as aesthetically pleasing as the ones on the Northumbrian coast, more dark and oppressive than the light concrete ones in Northumberland. I stand corrected these are not tank traps but impurities taken from the bottom of blast furnaces. and used as breakwaters. Apparently much of this coastline is man made, the cliffs ahead are slag heaps.

 

After walking along the path a while I am soon in Workington, and although well marked , the coastal route is very urban, stuck between a trading estate and the metal railings of the railway line. Workington Station is the only sight of interest on this route. I did spot a strange sign on the platform, reminding people not to use the toilet when the train was standing at the station. Now, if you think about it, if you are in the train toilet, you can’t see the sign, if you can see the sign, you are likely on the platform, so are you not to use the station toilets when trains arrive?

Just after the station, the harbour is as empty as was Harrington, and it has equally filled up a couple of hours later

The path does get a little confusing here , and I take a detour down the far arm of the harbour, but when I see the Derwent which flows next to it, I consult my map and realise it is a no go, still it is worth it to see the river

There is an old mill by the mill stream which branches off the main river and feeds the harbour

and the path now leads me past Workington Town Rugby League Club, at which point I go all Eddie Waring, and start thinking “Hull Kingston Rovers”, “up and under” & “he’s in for an early bath”. Nobody under 50 will understand any of that , so I will move on.

I cross the Derwent over a new bridge opened by Princess Anne in 2012, after the 2009 floods which left parts of Cumbria under 8 feet of water, many of the bridges were destroyed and it left the town cut in two.

Northside Bridge in Floods 20 November 2009 – Copyright Andy V Bryers

After the bridge the path stays stubbornly inland, passing  within reach of the main Asda as evidenced by abandoned shopping trollies, and finally after walking through a wind farm (another wrong turn, I have to double back) I get to the sea once more.

Those wind turbines are big mind you, and noisy.

Maryport is just up ahead

However, my knee gives in and as I am at Flimby and there is a tempting ice cream shop, I decide to end the walk here with a Sticky Toffee Pudding and Double Jersey Cone. Then as Eddie Waring would say, it’s time to go home for an early bath.

Only as there aren’t any trains running through Bolton, that early bath isnt quite so early….

That dreaded phrase replacement bus service hits me as I near Manchester.

Copyright Allan Russell 2018 except where indicated.

Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking – Day 4 Irlam To Warrington – 4 October 2015

It’s a Sunday and I catch the tram to Eccles, jump on a bus and am back to start my trek. Even though we are in early October there is still residual autumnal sunshine and it’s a relatively warm day. The scenery isn’t up to much though, as I am wandering through what was once thriving Manchester docklands. It is still a working docks but not as much as it once was. There are plans to revive this though and bring cargo once more up the canal from Liverpool  to save congestion on the roads. However industry is still mingling with decay

and a museum – the engine below once served CWS Irlam on the Manchester Ship Canal Railway

Apart from that the path veers between dodging cars on the main road to Warrington or wandering down dubious canalside paths wandering under disused railway bridges

I havent been able to find much information about the rivers before the canal  and one thing I would love to know is what their original course was, whether they joined or flowed apart. However, you can see some of the original flow of the Irwell along the route. Here it leaves the canal and goes off in an ox bow.

There is more of the original route to be seen on the other side of the canal apparently, however , that is not accessible for me. The scenery even becomes pastoral in places

Today’s route is easy and I rarely lose sight of the canal, even though I seem to be wandering through deep undergrowth at times. That and signs warning against smoking on the canal, for risk of igniting petroleum remind you the canal isn’t a safe place. There are stories about it catching fire in the past. How people swim in it these days is a little beyond me.

It’s at Warburton Bridge that I make my mistake. I assume that the existence of a path, and the marking of a bridge across the Mersey where it leaves the canal mean all is well for my onward path, more fool me. Anyway for now, Warburton Bridge is a fine structure. It is a toll bridge (although the toll is only 12p) and it is the only route across the canal between the M62 and the M6.

It’s harvest time

Despite the fact I am now unknowingly going down a dead end path, the canal is positively peaceful and its hard to imagine that once it was populated by heavy canal traffic

Still, the path starts getting narrower, and the trees start overhanging, I pass a tree that someone obviously lives in (it is draped with tarpaulins and has evidence of cooking),  but don’t hang around to chat to them, after all if they live in a tree on the edge of the canal they may not be friendly to the likes of me.

I also pass weird plants, almost triffid like. This is an unsettling part of the canal. I can hear trail bikes in the distance They seem to be approaching me , tyre tracks on the path give weight to that hunch.

It is now very dense and the trees are all around me. I can see the Mersey leaving the canal ahead of me, and the bridge. However a tall fence tells me that I can’t go that way and have to turn back. This is my first, but by no means my last dead end on these walks, I will just have to get used to it. It is about a mile back to a path, and I manage to cross a field (probably trespassing) to a holiday camp site (no me neither)

It’s a walk along the main road until I can join the Mersey again, and when I do the river has returned to its meandering self, that I walked a few days ago. It isn’t totally easy going as I have to leap some dykes, however, I reach the M6 which seems as good a place as any to seek out a bus stop to find my way back home.

Copyright 2018 Allan Russell

Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking – Day 74 St Bees To Parton – 22 August 2018

It’s the other way round today. Although sunny in Manchester as I go north of Lancaster the weather progressively deteriorates. This is also my longest scheduled journey to date, although I have spent more time in the company of Northern, I set out 03:45 and am not due in St Bees until 10:30.  It’s good I can chill on train journeys.

St Bees is wet. I decide it is better not to linger and instead move on. I can’t even get a good picture of the war memorial (St George)

St Bees is the start of Wainwrights Coast to Coast walk, and on the beach there is a sign mapping the route. However, I am forging north, and a climb awaits as I ascend towards St Bees Head. There’s been a fire on the cliffs, which is surprising given the wild seas.

The climb is much easier than Wales a couple of weeks back. The steps also more even and I am soon at the top with a fine view of the coast

The coastal path here is much more clearly marked, the only issue is the formation. In Wales you got Cliff, then Fence, then Path. Here it is Cliff, then Path, then Fence. The mud makes it a bit hairy going on the narrow path. However, it is easy going which considering the constant drizzle is a godsend, as there is little call for navigation, more  call to ensure you don’t tumble over the cliff edge.

or into any hidden caves….

However, once up there is only one dip and that is into Fleswick Bay, and much more gentle than those on the Wales coast.

After the bay St Bees Lightouse pops over the horizon, with the Fog Horn station on the cliff edge, whilst the lighthouse peeps over a hill just away from the cliffs. The lighthouse dates from 1718, which was the last coal powered station in the UK, until it burned down taking the keeper’s wife and five children with it. The current building was completed in 1865 and the lamp originally intended for Gibraltar. The foghorn station is no longer in operation.

Approaching Whitehaven, the weather starts improving, it hasnt been cold, but the drizzle is demoralising and a little sunshine is a great morale booster. I have to negotiate a frisky bull and field of cows which adds a little variety to avoiding falling over the cliff edge. I pass Birkhams quarry, St Bees sandstone is in great demand, it built George Washington’s House, Liverpool and Carlisle Cathedrals and the V&A in London amongst other things

Finally Whitehaven is near, well I can see it. It seems a long walk down the cliff path as it descends into the valley, passing a sign that tells me the first stretch of the England coastal path was laid here by the National Coal Board in 1986. Whitehaven was an old mining town as well as a port, and there is plenty of evidence of coal mines – I haven’t seen a winding gear since last time I visited my grandma in Tanfield Lea in the early 1970s. This one is at the Haig Colliery Museum

Whitehaven looks pretty in the improving weather. In the distance I can see Scotland now.

There is evidence of mining all around the port and walking through the town you can see that it once was thriving and rich, the main street is replete with evidence of a once grand Georgian town, which fell victim to 1960s redevelopement and now lies in a genteel state of decay.

King Street here dates back to 1644 and has many Regency houses, at one time the proprietors will have lived over the shop.

Thankfully the town is being slowly regenerated.

I did like the old Burton’s building, a reminder that it was once the window in which to to display your bum

Having left Whitehaven I know I can make it to the next station, Parton, it’s a little further up the line, and I follow the path of the railway along the coast road. An Artists impression does not give it all the justice it should….

The 14:09 train gets me back to Hazel Grove for 18:50. That’s not bad with three changes, each one with less than five minutes to wait. The trains can be good sometimes.

Copyright Allan Russell 2018

 

 

 

 

Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking – Day 3 Ashton On Mersey To Cadishead – 23 September 2015

‘m getting used to the buses now, together with the Tram, it is very easy to travel around this bit of the river, the buses are still following it, and the river meanders at this point looking more and more rural, it is hard to believe that a quarter of a century ago this was a filthy polluted waterway

I’m even tempted to paddle on the sandy beach. However , I do keep my boots on.

Unfortunately after about half a mile, I am confronted with a sign marked “Private Road”, I try walking a few yards down past a house guarded with wire and high walls and hear a quad bike behind me and am told in no uncertain terms that there is no access and I have to return. I therefore end up away from the Mersey, and have to keep this up for the rest of my walk, as the river is clearly out of bounds after this point. My diversion leads me through a housing estate and then over an urban park to the centre of Urmston.

However, that gives me the chance to pass St Michaels in Flixton, which lays claim to being one of the oldest places of worship in the Manchester Diocese. There is evidence of Norman architecture, it is probably even pre Norman, and the old church is mentioned in Domesday. The grave below is from 1836.

My path crosses the town centre, and then follows the railway line, unfortunately I have seen the last of the Mersey for a few days as the Ship Canal is looming up infront of me. There is a high railway embankment on one side of the river, and factory land on the other.

I get my first glimpse of the canal, there are even some mooring points here

and then I cross Irlam locks, and I am following the end of the Irwell

Irlam itself owes its existence to the ship canal, the town council dating from the same year as the building of the canal, past here the Irwell is navigable to Manchester Docks and a little further down the ship canal proper starts where the Mersey meets the Irwell

I have a childhood memory of looking down over a fence to a dirty river and waterfalls. I am not sure if this is the place. Like all these memories it is in black and white. Still at this point the River Mersey hits a hiatus, and becomes the Ship Canal, until at Warrington it veers away and regains its identity.

Thats the next walk though.

Copyright 2018 Allan Russell

Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking – Day 73 – Sellafield to St Bees – 16 August 2018

Another early morning, I never thought that on retirement that I would regularly get up earlier than normal, but I am awake at 03:30 without any difficulty to catch the 05:00 192 into Manchester and the 06:25 train to Lancaster. It is pouring down and pitch black until we get to Manchester. A few weeks ago it had been bright and sunny as I waited for the bus, this time I shelter in the car until it arrives.

The train is delayed from Barrow this gives me a chance to have a look at the war memorial at the station which was damaged in the Barrow Blitz in World War II, it is pock marked quite badly. Barrow was of course until the mid 1980s and the Hindenberg flew low over Barrow in 1936 presumably on more of a reconnaisance than a tourist mission

 

(Hindenberg Copyright William Martin)

Northern Trains generally are behaving themselves these days and I arrive only 20 minutes late at Sellafield. The weather has gradually improved as I travelled North and Sellafield is bathed in a warm sun.

A quirk of the rivers here is they flow parallel to the coast rather than directly into it. This happens with the three rivers which join at Ravenglass, and the River Ehen here joins the Calder almost at its mouth. You can see the mouth of the Calder on day 72 above.

This has the disadvantage here that I cant get over the river to the coast but must walk alongside the somewhat disconcerting fencing of Sellafield until I can rejoin the Hadrians Wall Cyclepath (which itself has been diverted) There is an intention to reopen the path sometime in 2013, the sign says, so I don’t hang around incase something happens.

The sea is tantalisingly close, but I have to follow the busy main road in the hope of getting onto the path which shows on my map as a disused railway – The Whitehaven, Cleator and Egremont Railway, which managed to splutter along to the mid 1960s whilst Sellafield was built.

Although I refrain from taking any pictures on my walk along the fences, I attract the attention of the Atomic Energy Authority Police who question me on why I am around the centre. It’s understandable, a nutter has tried ineffectually to smash his car into the Houses of Parliament yesterday, so whilst I have my identity checked I am treated to random pub quiz questions by nice cop (ie how many lakes are there in the lake district – 1 of course) whilst not nasty cop, but “spot-on” cop (he says “spot on” every time I answer a question) checks my bona fides.

Eventually they are satisfied, and quietly wondering why they left it until I had turned off onto the footpath , I leave spot on and his mate, pub quiz to continue their day job. I am also reminded that Sellafield as an issue has sunk in the headlines, when I was younger there was much more controversy about nuclear power and pollution of the sea, today less so. I am not even sure that many people these days have heard of it.

It is a narrow country lane I follow to the pretty village of Braystones, and take a selfie and cross the river again

A little further on the Eher is in full spate with Sellafield in the background and seems a good place to fish

Finally I get back onto the coast. To get here I have to cross the now single track line at Braystones Station, which itself hangs periously close to the coast. On the beach side there is an almost shanty town of beach huts and houses stretching ahead on the pebbled beach. People live here and I am accosted by an old chap who thinks I have come to deliver his medicines. He then relates his life history. He originally hails from Denton in Manchester but moved here after he found his wife cheating on him whilst he worked nights. He also tells me of his nephew who plummetted off the cliffs near St Bees. After a half hour I have to make my excuses and leave, otherwise I would still be there.

The houses are in a desolate place , and whilst they look pretty in the bright August sunshine, I wouldn’t want to be in one on a wild winter storm.

The beach is heavy going here, it isn’t comfortable to walk on the pebbles, and at the cliffs at Nethertown I make the decision to go inland and walk along the top to St Bees. This is vindicated on my way back as the tide is right in, and there is nothing between the railway line and the crashing waves bar boulders acting as sea defences. The top, although another lane is much more pleasant to walk, and views of St Bees head make the final stretch a very pleasant one.

St Bees puts me in mind of a Cornish village as I descend into it. As well as being on the Hadrians Wall trek, Coastal Path, it is also the start of Wainwrights Coast to Coast walk. It is a pretty little village.

Even the station is pretty (and Cumbrian stations hit a high standard on this!)

I’ll leave St Bees with a shot of the priory, where Anthony De Lucy, otherwise known as  St Bees Man, who died in 1368 was discovered in a lead lined coffin. I am going to try and visit that next time.

The journey home is enjoyable, the sea is wild as we cling to the single track line along the coast, at Ulverston the train is filled by celebrating A Level students drinking Tesco’s Pear Cider and bottles of Pink Gin on their way to celebrate results in Big City Lancaster. I like this train, it is a community train, people wave at us from the Grange Over Sands promenade. The tide is high and the waters of the Kent are lapping the shore at Arnside, having walked over Morecambe Bay a month ago, none of our path is visible as the sea has come right up to the promenade wall.

Copyright Allan Russell 2018 , except where indicated.

Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking – Day 2 Northern Moor To Ashton On Mersey – 17 September 2015

I’m a bit more prepared today. For one thing I know to bring food and water, the weather is good, and I set off to drive to Northern Moor station and park up nearby. Then rejoin the river where I left off

The river at this point is prone to flooding and therefore not much is built on it, there are several flood sluices to let the river overflow into the surrounding plains, Chorlton and Sale water parks also serve as overflows for the river. Flooding is not as bad as it once was as the Ship Canal is capable of removing great volumes of water. Flooding is echoed in the names of places along the river such as Sale Ees Flood Gate , Ees being an old English word for flood plain.

I pass Jacksons Boat- named after a farmer called Jackson who farmed and owned the ferry rights at one point. The bridge was built in 1816 by Samuel Wilton , the ferry rights were still around in 1832 and John Marsland benefitted from tolls (he lived at Highfield Lodge next to Heaton Lodge). The current metal bridge replaced the original wooden one which was washed away in 1881, however a penny toll persisted over the bridge until the 1940s when it was bought by Manchester Corporation. This bridge may be replaced soon as Trafford council have received a grant to upgrade the area.

(https://www.manchestereveningnews.co.uk/news/greater-manchester-news/historic-jacksons-boat-bridge-could-13828942)

Whilst I was aware of Sale Water Park, I had never been to it, and had never even heard of Chorlton Water Park. Sale Water Park was a by product of building the motorway in the 1970s – a gravel pit used for construction was flooded. However , nature has taken over and the area looks natural these days. It certainly is a fine place to stroll and take in the views and wildlife, and practise your sailing skills, or fish.

 

 

The locals do seem to enjoy it!

The Mersey is crossed by the Bridgewater canal a little further on

and a little further on in Ashton On Mersey it seems a good point to stop this stage of the walk. I have done a little better than last week and am no way as knackered as I was after my first walk, I wander out to the roads and look for a bus stop. At this point I learn that bus routes tend to follow the river, and catch a 19A directly back to Northern Moor station.

 

Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking – Day 72 Newgale To Caerfai Bay – August 7 2018

Today its a fragment, hopefully the fragments will join together into the greater scheme of things of a circular walk. Last year I completed two more segments of this stretch. That was a solo trek, this time I have a guest hiker, John Elliott, who joined me on a Morecambe Bay walk in July. We are on holiday in St Davids so want to tackle part of the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path.

First thing it is pouring down, that relentless drizzle that is calculated to reduce the human soul to misery that Wales so specialises in. However, by 10am it has stopped and we are driven by Julia, Mrs R , and able assistant granddaughter,  Gracie Elliott,  to our start point. John has already complained that my rules mean we should start where I completed my previous trek, ie at the bottom of the hill, rather than the top. However, I point out he is younger and fitter and should not be fazed by such a requirement, still its a lot of steps and a steep climb to start our walk.

A quick selfie and we start, making good progress, I am reminded by the uneven steps why I never was attracted to walking the Inca trail.

 

It’s overcast, but fine walking weather, even if not beach weather, as Newgale shows being much more deserted than it was yesterday. This part of the country also gives me my first taste of vertiginous cliffs. The path is well marked, but I would not like to walk it in poor visibility or in howling gales.

It’s a long way down….

It’s also a switchback as we climb and descend with the many coves. I had worried that I wouldn’t be fit enough to keep up with John as he recently completed the three peaks. However, he is either being kind, or I am fitter than I thought, and I have no trouble matching his pace. I do wish there were fewer steps though

The views over the sea and towards tankers entering Milford Haven are stupendous, but the greenery is too, dew still rests on the heather, giving beautiful patterns.

The farmers do seem very territorial, and fences go right up to the cliff edge to divide fields. I don’t think I would like to take fencing up as a career in this part of the country,

This one did go further towards the cliff edge, but I decided not to investigate any closer to it. As we proceed the path becomes easier, and spotting a horse trough by the side of us, we ponder whether we are on a bridlepath, and are greeted by wild ponies who are quite used to human visitors.

We near Solva, and there is one more climb to get over (which is the worse of the day, because it is not only steep but also very narrow and winding) However, the view of Solva harbour repays the effort of that hill

Solva was once a port of embarkation for New York. Today it is hosting a childrens regatta, but looking at the size of the harbour, it must have been an uncomfortable and cramped journey across the Atlantic. In the 1800s it was a centre of lime production – kilns can be seen on the harbour, the construction date is unknown but they are mentioned as early as 1811. The harbour was also used as the setting for The Reverend Eli Jenkins home of Bethedsa in the 1971 film of Under MilkWood. Richard Jenkins and Peter O’Toole were often seen in the area (Llareggub was set in Fishguard) however, the inhabitants were not lucky enough to have Elizabeth Taylor grace them with her presence, despite her husband being overheard berating her on the phone to “get your fat arse down to Pembrokeshire”

We sit on the harbour and rest for our lunch.

Refreshed we start to climb the path on the otherside, passing a curiously knitted signpost. I can’t say that these are reliable, as they took us in a circle, meaning we had to climb twice.

Apparently , it has been yarnbombed. The afternoon is a much easier walk, as the path evens out as we descend towards St Davids. My daughter bought me a Nicholas Crane’s Great British Journeys, which I was by total happenstance reading about Gerald of Wales and his journey to garner support for the Crusades. He describes this area as one inhabited by men who want to live as far away as possible away from worldly upsets, adding that there are no woods, rivers and no pasture, and that the soil is rocky and barren and the peninsula exposed to the wind and inclement weather. Not a place to visit in adverse conditions then.

We see our campsite in the distance (Nine Wells, so named as it was the last watering place before St Davids)

There are a few more dips on the route as the path stretches out behind us

However, the end of our journey is now in site, and John is gasping for a pint, so we leave the path at Caerfai bay

and after trekking the length of St Davids we stop in the Farmers Arms for a well deserved drink (I wouldn’t mind he insisted on the Farmers, passing several suitable ones en route) before asking the support team to transport us back

Copyright 2018 Allan Russell, except where indicated.

Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking – Day 1 – Stockport Pyramid to Northern Moor 11 September 2015

As I have started in Ravenglass, I will fill in alternate posts with my journey to date. it will give you at least some sense to this!

For most of my life I have lived on or around the Mersey or one of its tributaries. I also didnt know the river, I just knew a few bits of it, and its mouth in Liverpool. When planning a walk therefore it seemed a good idea to walk the length of it and get some exercise to boot

So with precisely no preparation I drove to the centre of Stockport, parked up and started walking at the Coop Pyramid

I spent nearly 30 years of my life working in and around the Coop. This building was once a call centre, I dont think they use it any more. There were once plans to have a Valley of The Kings when it was planned in the late 1980s, however the economy tanked in the 90s and the Coop gained it by repossession. Now it is the Coops turn to pass it on as its economic model tanks.

Much of the Mersey was once part of a sea, and this is especially evident in the sandstone banks and caves you can see around Stockport.

The river is much cleaner now than it was when I played along these banks as a child and it is noticeable mainly in the absence of stink along the river. It is a much more pleasant place and you could be fooled that you were in some glorious England imagined by Robert Browning. I pass fields with horses, and see a heron on the river

But there are also clues as to industrialisation and the remains of the old railway bridge of the Manchester to Tiviot Dale railway pop up. I remember when trains went over this, they only finally stopped when the motorway was built in Stockport in the late 80s and destroyed the tunnel by accident

The path is easy and the route well marked (which is just as well because in my naivety I have not brought a map, I have also failed to bring any drink or food to eat, as I also naively believe I will find shops and places to eat en route. This is a valuable lesson to learn for next time, and it is a blessing that I am not far from major routes. It’s a long time since I have done any serious walking , and it shows.

There is not much to see of the Bleachworks any more in Heaton Mersey, these were built in 1785 by Samuel Oldknow , and only went out of use in 1992. Roger Rowson Lingard (see my blog above on Heaton Lodge – its all connected you see) will have known this and it is likely his firm had dealings with it in the 1830s.

I am doing quite well at this point, and breeze across the road by Cheadle station and do well on the way to Northenden, where I cross Simons bridge

Henry was born in Silesia in 1835, and arrived penniless in Manchester in 1860. He revolutionised flour milling, by designing equipment for McDougalls, and of course founded Simons engineering. He also was a founding member of the Halle Concerts society and was instrumental in building the first crematorium outside London at Southern Cemetry . Needless to say, he died a rich man

However, my lack of fitness is showing now. After a mere six miles I have to give up being absolutely shattered. I literally limp to Northern Moor Tram stop, and decide to be a big kid and catch the tram to the airport first, before travelling back to East Didsbury and bussing back to my stop.

Over this walk and my Irwell walk, I will get to all points on the Metrolink network. However, I am really tired and my bones and muscles feel the effect of lack of exercise over the next couple of days, I do get better, but at the moment, the length of the Mersey is a challenge

Copyright 2018 Allan Russell

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking – Day 71 – Ravenglass To Sellafield – 2 August 2018

The mornings are becoming dark. Well at 03:45 when my alarm goes off it is dark. I catch the 05:00 bus to Manchester. It amazes me how busy this bus is, though Piccadilly is equally busy at 05:45, Greeted by a Bee outside Piccadilly

After recent months the trains are all running, and my journey is now uneventful, although the never ending tidal flows in Morecambe Bay and beyond are alway fascinating to watch from the train window.

At Ravenglass I have a choice, ford the Mite or take the footbridge

You guessed, I wimped out and walked across the bridge. I am looking to cross the Irt at a Ford marked on my map, so set off. It’s a dull and overcast day, but still warm. The waters are low, so I am looking forward to trying the Ford, after my success crossing the Esk. Ravenglass is not as inviting as a fortnight ago, when it was bathed in sun, and I was told the waters as warm as bathwater.

I pass through Saltcote and Carleton Hall Farm onto a track that leads to the Irt. Things look good, as three people two bike riders and a dog are coming the other way from the Ford, they must have crossed it.

The path starts muddy and gets muddier. It has rained after the drought but surely not this much?  Still the rail viaduct and the river are ahead, I finally reach it, and having sunk in six inches of mud by this point, I decide it is a no go. I don’t know where those walkers came from, but they didn’t cross the river. Decide for yourself.

Undaunted I think I can walk up the river bank to the Packhorse bridge further upstream, but the gap between the banks and the fence of the adjoining field is far too steep and narrow. I try to cross the field, but that is a major mistake. The field is a swamp, populated with the occasional tuft of grass to keep me from sinking. The next 30 minutes involve me trying to negotiate a path around gullies, ponds and other obstacles until I finally give up and go back to the Farm. I think my google timeline shows how poorly I fared here. you can see the rivulets in the field. I assure you there were loads more.

Getting back on the road, I discover it is called Hadrians Cyclepath. Not that nutty, the path goes from Ravenglass, a major Roman Port, to Wallsend in Newcastle. that is my interim target so rather serendipitously I have alighted on the right road on the first day of this blog.

Finally I walk towards Holme Bridge, aka the Packhorse Bridge, The River Irt was once famous for freshwater mussels which yielded a very rare black pearl. However, these have been hunted to near extinction. The river, is fast flowing at the bridge, and I am glad to have a dry crossing, although my boots are still wet from my attempted ford approach.

The path then continues into Drigg, The Church has some very old gravestones dating back to the early 1800s each one praising a son or daughter of Cumbria. There is also one Commonwealth War Grave – Sapper Ivor Hunter , who died in 1947.

(Copyright http://2ndww.blogspot.com/2016/03/the-war-memorials-of-drigg-cumbria.html)

There are also a few other graves of military men, though the church is closed and nobody is about to enlighten me further so I plough on towards the coast. Drigg is also the site of a low level nuclear waste facility, which I skirt on my way back to the coast, it is also tragically a place where part of Derrick Bird’s shooting rampage occured back in 2010. There is a memorial to this at Seascale.

Finally I reach the coast again. One of the downers of coastal walking is being away from the coast, whether it be because of estuarys or inaccessible land, it does raise the spirits when you return to the objective of your walks.

The sea today is rough, and the low clouds form a mist which make the sight of Sellafield rising  ahead of me even more sombre.

A number of gun emplacements litter the beach, to protect the shipyards at Barrow. During the second world war Drigg and surroundings was littered with camouflage decoys to draw gunfire away from Barrow. My mum was employed during the war at a factory which made these false airplanes and towns to protect the Newcastle shipyards by drawing fire away from the real thing.

Seascale is near, and in the distance I can just make out the headland of St Bees, behind me all is quiet.

Arriving in Seascale, I consume my traditional three banana lunch and drink some water whilst looking at the memorial to the victims of the Cumbrian shootings, then press on towards Seallafield. The path is good, and I make good progress along the top of the dunes, as the fencing of the nuclear plant are on my right and sea on my left. Crossing the River Calder (another bridge, the third large river in a day)  I get closer to the fencing and the plant

Ten minutes away from the station, I spot a train arriving. not a chance I think, but by good grace Northern are delayed again, and I manage to arrive on the platform just as the train is going to leave.

Copyright Allan Russell 2018, unlesss otherwise stated.

Turn Right At Liverpool And Keep Walking

About Me

Approaching 60 with time on my hand, too much weight on my waist and seeking enlightenment (like the aging hippy I never was) and a purpose I decided to explore that part of England I had lived next to for most of my life, yet did not really know. The River Mersey. Beginning in Stockport (depending on your preference on the confluence of the Tame and Goyt or Etherow and Goyt) and ending in Liverpool, I wanted to end it in New Brighton, as my Grandad had taken me there in the early mid 60s , my memories of this trip are limited to crossing on the Ferry, and all being in Black and White. I achieved all that, bar getting to New Brighton, as the Ferry wasn’t running that day.

So I compromised and turned right. And kept walking. I have just now decided to document it, For that reason it starts in the middle. However , coastal walks go in a circle, so the start point doesn’t matter, I can fill in the back story as well.

To make it even more fun, I walked the length of a few rivers from source to sea or confluence, and I’ll add those in too

Enjoy.