Accommodation: 4 Belle View Cottages
From Emmanuel Guest House we set out at about 7:30. As it turns out, I think we psyched ourselves out for the long haul to Osmotherly because it wasn't nearly as bad as to Kirkby
Stephen. First off, we both had our trainers on, which did a lot to alleviate pain and lighten our feet (but not our load since we still carried our boots in our rucksacks). It was nice to leave the big town and get back to farmland, too. Secondly, there was a lot more variety to this part of the journey - we passed several "rabbit metropolises" (as Stedman labels them on his map) and sent 10 odd rabbits running away at a time. We also got to see some agricultural farming - something new since all we'd seen was livestock. We walked through a potato field (we could see the potatoes poking out of the ground) which I'd never seen before, and also a great golden field of grain. It was really very beautiful.There were a few unpleasant bits - walking on busy roads with no footpaths and feeling stressed about being run over, peeing by a patch of stinging nettle and getting my hand stung all over. But we trudged on and on until Danby Whiske, where some folks call it a day. We had lunch at the White Swan - just measley sandwiches. Going on, we saw a funny - and exceedingly weird - set up of signs and props: "Be-Told, A TROLL lives under the Bridg and Has Been Known to EAT CHILDREN" &c. And then, of course, we come up to a paper-marchier troll, bucket of custard - child included - and
pie with the requisite child's legs sticking out. All this right before the bridge.On and on we go. Startled a(nother) snoozing C2C dog who was with 2 walkers. She immediately began barking at us. "Shut up, you miserable dog!" says her owner, "Sorry, she just woke up." We got up into the Cleveland Hills finally, and were wandering about Arncliffe Woods and then some more farmland - getting a bit desperate (after 23 miles!) to know if we were on the right track since Steddy hadn't mapped Osmotherly out for us. Finally into the village and (after a couple inquiries at a pub) down to 4 Belle View Cottages. And Anne. Oh Anne, she is something else. Very warm, mind you, great hostess, which makes all the difference (as vs. Glebe House) so that I did not mind that our "B&B" was simply a room in someone's (very cluttered) house. She gave us a welcome with tea and cake in her funny manner - can't put my finger on it. Just a very old-fashioned lady with a high English voice - like Dame Edna but more turkey-like. We got in about 6pm and she said, "I worried for you! What would I do if you didn't turn up?"
We headed straight for the pub after settling in ("That's what I would suggest - after a shower, you might not get up again! Richmond is really too far - Sherpa should really not book all that distance apart!"). Ate at Queen Catherine's (according to Stedman the only pub named after Catherine of Aragon) - I had lamb liver and onions and D lamb shank, all over yummy mashed potatoes. I figured maybe the liver would help restore my woefully deteriorated body. My quads by this time just plain hurt - not in a sore or achey or strained way but in a way that suggested my muscles were breaking down. This was after 26 miles (and 100+ miles before that!) after all.
Back to Anne's (a hellish walk downhill) and to bed right away after the shower/Tiger Balm routine.
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