Accommodation: Ashley House
This morning was a bit rushed - Margaret told us her daughter would need us ready by 8:45 if we were to get a ride up to Clay Bank Top - this at 8:30! We scrambled and she did take us up - after saying goodbye to Margaret and Len, both of whom hugged and kissed us! They are certainly treasures, old fashioned at its best. Mandy, their daughter, drove us up at breakneck speed - like a true native of the place. I thought we would both hurl after wolfing down our Full English Breakfast.
And then the Moors. Urra Moor, to be exact:
Urra Moor
Got me wet
Now I'm angry at you,
Urra Moor,
What's a Coast to Coaster
S'posed to do?
Got me wet
Now I'm angry at you,
Urra Moor,
What's a Coast to Coaster
S'posed to do?
This to be sung to the tune of "Oh L'Amour", composed by Devin.
It was misty and interminable - though not then quite as windy or wet, so tolerable. And the
purple heather was pretty. We trooped along into Forever, since we had no sense of what lay in front (or behind, for that matter). To pass the time we tried singing some of Solas' Irish ballads, which was a hilarious failure, especially when Devin did the fiddle part. With swollen feet and aching legs at least we can still laugh.
Lunch at Blakey Ridge's White Lion - along with everyone else within a 10 mile radius as the White Lion IS Blakey Ridge. Saw the Rugby couple and the American women - they all greeted us as if they were waiting for us: "They made it!" And the Mystery 3 reappeared and sat next to us. I'm certain the girl is NOT married to Mullethair Meathead, as I've chosen to call him now. She sate on the same side of a table as him - but had her plate in the far corner, crouching as far away from his as possible. The Mystery continues...
Back on the road, the wind blew straight at us in enormous gusts so that aerodynamics actually
came into play. It was impossible to walk fast with our arms at our sides so D invented holding his hands behind his back while I discovered that if one held one's hands in prayer at the chest but with the fingers pointed forward one could get on pretty well. Ridiculous.
More moor. And more moor. I finally put on my trainers despite the puddles since my ankles couldn't take anymore. Finally we descended into Glaisedale - a village lovingly tucked into the sides of a lush green dale. Really very lovely. And the Ashley House is lovelier still. A three-storey house, with Margaret and John - friendly and caring. It was the perfect combination of warmth and professionalism. The house doesn't feel like someone's home so much as a lovely inn - and one with long, deep tubs at that!
We came down to tea and teacakes soaked in butter. Our room is lovely and lacking English fussiness, and with windows looking across at the houses nestled in the trees on the opposite side of the valley. Dinner was at the Arncliffe Arms. The Moon and Sixpence, which Stedman had on his map (or as D likes to say, the Spoon and Girdle) shut down 3 years ago - I say because its name wasn't burly enough, unlike King's Arms or the Buck. Lovely place - saw all our friends there. Had a brilliant fish and chips - Shap and it were both great, cod as it should be, and then we shared a lovely sticky toffee pudding. But even though lovely, not the perfection of the Traveler's Rest and Pub.
Tomorrow: our last day. 7 hours to RHB!!
The view across the valley from our room
The Ashley House - our favorite B&B on the C2C
It was misty and interminable - though not then quite as windy or wet, so tolerable. And the
purple heather was pretty. We trooped along into Forever, since we had no sense of what lay in front (or behind, for that matter). To pass the time we tried singing some of Solas' Irish ballads, which was a hilarious failure, especially when Devin did the fiddle part. With swollen feet and aching legs at least we can still laugh.Lunch at Blakey Ridge's White Lion - along with everyone else within a 10 mile radius as the White Lion IS Blakey Ridge. Saw the Rugby couple and the American women - they all greeted us as if they were waiting for us: "They made it!" And the Mystery 3 reappeared and sat next to us. I'm certain the girl is NOT married to Mullethair Meathead, as I've chosen to call him now. She sate on the same side of a table as him - but had her plate in the far corner, crouching as far away from his as possible. The Mystery continues...
Back on the road, the wind blew straight at us in enormous gusts so that aerodynamics actually
came into play. It was impossible to walk fast with our arms at our sides so D invented holding his hands behind his back while I discovered that if one held one's hands in prayer at the chest but with the fingers pointed forward one could get on pretty well. Ridiculous.More moor. And more moor. I finally put on my trainers despite the puddles since my ankles couldn't take anymore. Finally we descended into Glaisedale - a village lovingly tucked into the sides of a lush green dale. Really very lovely. And the Ashley House is lovelier still. A three-storey house, with Margaret and John - friendly and caring. It was the perfect combination of warmth and professionalism. The house doesn't feel like someone's home so much as a lovely inn - and one with long, deep tubs at that!
We came down to tea and teacakes soaked in butter. Our room is lovely and lacking English fussiness, and with windows looking across at the houses nestled in the trees on the opposite side of the valley. Dinner was at the Arncliffe Arms. The Moon and Sixpence, which Stedman had on his map (or as D likes to say, the Spoon and Girdle) shut down 3 years ago - I say because its name wasn't burly enough, unlike King's Arms or the Buck. Lovely place - saw all our friends there. Had a brilliant fish and chips - Shap and it were both great, cod as it should be, and then we shared a lovely sticky toffee pudding. But even though lovely, not the perfection of the Traveler's Rest and Pub.
Tomorrow: our last day. 7 hours to RHB!!
The view across the valley from our room
The Ashley House - our favorite B&B on the C2C
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