Accommodation: YHA Boggle Hole
We are finished! Ready to get a long night's sleep after 192 miles!
Well, this morning had a perfectly wonderful (English) breakfast at the Ashley House - in the lounge, and Margaret came to take our order and told us she'd "put the boy to work" - John came in and said hello with an apron on. Then Margaret put on some classical music for us. That's a first. We decided this was our favorite B&B - although we've certainly met some sweeties on the way.
Margaret and John chatted with us as we put on our boots - told us we had to look at Beggar's Bridge, built by, according to John, "a buccaneer, really, a pirate." Margaret:"Not a pirate! He just went to seek his fortune." John: "Just a nice way of saying he was a pirate. Freedom Fighters/terrorists, it just depends on what side you're on." They were lovely and sent us off.
We did take pictures at Beggar's Bridge, then through a wood, through Egton and Grosmont - sleepy little villages. We did see Egton Manor - a grand old stone estate on acres of green, something one sees in Austen movies. Donkeys lay on the grass, snoozing.
Beggar's Bridge, Glaisedale
Egton Manor
Grosmont Station
The Hermitage
Could it be the Hermit?
At Falling Foss. Aren't we cute? But really, we're just thinking: where, oh where, is the next walker-free place to pee?And then up and up onto the Moors. Ah the Moors. This time they weren't misty or windy, but they were very boggy, so I was forced to change to boots and we trudged on and on. At least we got a good view of Whitby Abbey against the sea in the far distance.
As we got close to our final destination it seemed every trial got thrown our way, as a last test of sorts. Very boggy ground - at some point we had to jump across bogs in a valley full of them ("Who built this place?" I said without thinking). I had to throw my stick and pack to Devin and then nerve myself to leap over a particularly deep one.
Then through lots of stone and mud with the Motherlode of Animal Crap between two hedges - all achingly downhill. Then concrete walking, up and down through Hawsker, to jarr our shins. Finally we were rewarded with a terrific view of the North Sea and cliffs and pounding tide - and the cry of seagulls again!
We had a thoughtful sea cliff walk, thinking of all the things we've learned - from what stiles and kissing gates are to the joys of small villages and the goodness of varied items in a packed lunch! 
I think the greatest thing I've learned is that even a hobbit's life is hard - being in the story is harder than one thinks. Tolkien never really describes sore feet and aching knees, but they're there, along with the fear and desperation of the journey. I thought things would be as the Shire all along - tranquil, idyllic, golden. And they were - but there were equal parts pain and enduring suffering and despair. These were not "fun" - but they were also a part of what made the adventure an adventure - not just a lying about in leisure.
Even learning of our friend's husband and the planned terrorist attacks were part of this - reminders that a hobbit still lives in a world where Mordor and its works survive. The pain one feels - emotional but also physical - as an adventuring hobbit is against the pain inflicted by Mordor, or should be so that one should learn to embrace one's pain and make it another part of the long victory over evil. I believe it is a victory, in any case.
So I hope to keep all the landscape of the Lakes and Moors and Dales and Seas within me - through the pain and fun of what lies beyond. Maybe this will give me courage.
But back to the story! We did finally wend our way down through the lovely narrow streets of Robin Hood's Bay and to the sea. It was an emotional hello and goodbye - hello to the other coast and goodbye to our adventure. The North Sea was grey and somber, maybe reflecting a
bit of our mood - as opposed to the dancingly golden Irish Sea that beautiful morning we headed out with such joy and hope in our hearts.
We stood in the tide and were still for a while. And then we realized the tide had really started coming in! So we threw our rocks (D claims we are upsetting the balance of the earth by moving these pebbles from coast to coast - yes, but very slowly) and made our way to the Bay Hotel and Wainwright's Bar and wrote in their Coast to Coast guestbook. We were happy to see Johann signed just a day earlier, and also Richard, the young man we met at Ennerdale YHA as well ("It seemed like a good idea at the time"). Old friends, they feel like now.
Then puzzled out how to get to Boggle Hole YHA - we decided to go along the coast and began a frantic scramble to beat the tide (by this time our feet were totally numb). Finally we asked a guy where Boggle Hole might be: "You've passed it by a bit." "Oh! We didn't even see it - we were trying to beat the tide." "Well, take your time - I think you'll make it, you have about 2 hours."
Found the YHA and immediately ordered our dinners (kipper pate, and the worst pasta ever - overcooked and apparently they haven't discovered salt as a crucial culinary element). We ate at our own table and the dining room was full of families with small children, so it felt a bit different than the other YHAs.
Now we are in our bunk room - tired and aching and ready to sleep it all away. What an adventure.
Below: the Closing Ceremonies, as outlined by Wainwright and walkers.
Smile for the applauding crowds
As we got close to our final destination it seemed every trial got thrown our way, as a last test of sorts. Very boggy ground - at some point we had to jump across bogs in a valley full of them ("Who built this place?" I said without thinking). I had to throw my stick and pack to Devin and then nerve myself to leap over a particularly deep one.
Then through lots of stone and mud with the Motherlode of Animal Crap between two hedges - all achingly downhill. Then concrete walking, up and down through Hawsker, to jarr our shins. Finally we were rewarded with a terrific view of the North Sea and cliffs and pounding tide - and the cry of seagulls again!
We had a thoughtful sea cliff walk, thinking of all the things we've learned - from what stiles and kissing gates are to the joys of small villages and the goodness of varied items in a packed lunch! 
I think the greatest thing I've learned is that even a hobbit's life is hard - being in the story is harder than one thinks. Tolkien never really describes sore feet and aching knees, but they're there, along with the fear and desperation of the journey. I thought things would be as the Shire all along - tranquil, idyllic, golden. And they were - but there were equal parts pain and enduring suffering and despair. These were not "fun" - but they were also a part of what made the adventure an adventure - not just a lying about in leisure.Even learning of our friend's husband and the planned terrorist attacks were part of this - reminders that a hobbit still lives in a world where Mordor and its works survive. The pain one feels - emotional but also physical - as an adventuring hobbit is against the pain inflicted by Mordor, or should be so that one should learn to embrace one's pain and make it another part of the long victory over evil. I believe it is a victory, in any case.
So I hope to keep all the landscape of the Lakes and Moors and Dales and Seas within me - through the pain and fun of what lies beyond. Maybe this will give me courage.
But back to the story! We did finally wend our way down through the lovely narrow streets of Robin Hood's Bay and to the sea. It was an emotional hello and goodbye - hello to the other coast and goodbye to our adventure. The North Sea was grey and somber, maybe reflecting a
bit of our mood - as opposed to the dancingly golden Irish Sea that beautiful morning we headed out with such joy and hope in our hearts.We stood in the tide and were still for a while. And then we realized the tide had really started coming in! So we threw our rocks (D claims we are upsetting the balance of the earth by moving these pebbles from coast to coast - yes, but very slowly) and made our way to the Bay Hotel and Wainwright's Bar and wrote in their Coast to Coast guestbook. We were happy to see Johann signed just a day earlier, and also Richard, the young man we met at Ennerdale YHA as well ("It seemed like a good idea at the time"). Old friends, they feel like now.
Then puzzled out how to get to Boggle Hole YHA - we decided to go along the coast and began a frantic scramble to beat the tide (by this time our feet were totally numb). Finally we asked a guy where Boggle Hole might be: "You've passed it by a bit." "Oh! We didn't even see it - we were trying to beat the tide." "Well, take your time - I think you'll make it, you have about 2 hours."Found the YHA and immediately ordered our dinners (kipper pate, and the worst pasta ever - overcooked and apparently they haven't discovered salt as a crucial culinary element). We ate at our own table and the dining room was full of families with small children, so it felt a bit different than the other YHAs.
Now we are in our bunk room - tired and aching and ready to sleep it all away. What an adventure.
Below: the Closing Ceremonies, as outlined by Wainwright and walkers.
Dip boots in the sea, get your pebble from the Irish Sea and toss it in!
Smile for the applauding crowds
1 comment:
You guys are so cute. Glad you went in celebration of great things (marriage, Ph.D. acceptances, etc.).
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