Welcome to Our Hobbits' Holiday!

From the Irish Sea
to the North Sea,

With everything in between...


















Wainwright wrote of the Lakelands, the landscape that really changed us forever: "Surely there is no other place in this whole wonderful world quite like Lakeland...no other so exquisitely lovely, no other so charming, no other that calls so insistently across a gulf of distance. All who truly love Lakeland are exiles when away from it." We do, indeed, feel as exiles now.



We've created this blog for family and friends so they can share in our adventures. We had an unforgettable time in England hiking the Coast to Coast. It was 200 miles of sheer wonder, beauty, fun, and, yes, pain! For an intro to this trip (and our motivations for going) please read our first post and take a look at the Wainwright Society.

During this trip we both kept a journal - JanJan's is posted here in the day to day posts. They're nothing poetic, just what we did, what we saw, what we thought (with pictures, of course!). You can access the diary by pressing on any of the links below - each will lead you to a day of the journey. (You can, of course, just scroll down this entire blog, page by page.)

Getting There: From Connecticut to St. Bees
Day 1 - St. Bees to Ennerdale: The Adventure Begins
Day 2 - Ennerdale to Honister Hause: Fog on the Barrow Downs
Day 3 - Honister Hause to Grasmere: Of Cream Tea and Wordsworth and Sticky Toffee Pudding!
Day 4 - Grasmere to Patterdale: We Put the 'Hel' in Helvellyn
Day 5 - Patterdale to Shap: Happy Endings
Day 6 - Shap to Kirkby Stephen: The Day From Hell
Day 7 - Kirkby Stephen to Keld: Bogs and Monsters
Day 8 - Keld to Reeth: Juxtapositions
Day 9 - Reeth to Richmond: The Shock of Noise
Day 10 - Richmond to Osmotherly: The Marathon
Day 11 - Osmotherly to Clay Bank Top/Great Broughton: Finally Time for the Waterproof Pants
Day 12 - Clay Bank Top to Glaisedale: The Moors As Interpreted by Erasure - Or, The Never-Ending Story
Day 13 - Glaisedale to Robin Hood's Bay: The Day of Fond Regret

Here also, for fun, are some posts we thought essential to expressing our experience.

Gallery (just some of our favorite photos)
Queer Folk, the British
The Conscientious Objectors at Richmond Castle
Food, Glorious Food
Our Kit of Wonders (what we brought, tips for other trekkers)
The C2C Fantabulous Zoo (animals we met along the way)
Excursion to Whitby Abbey - Another Abbey Great Harry Sat On (the trip we took the day after we finished at RHB)

Please have fun viewing our blog - and leave your comments! (You don't have to be a blogger/member to leave a note for us.) Thank you to all of you who listened to our training woes, helped us on our way, and gave us encouragement!
Love,
Devin & JanJan (AKA Merry and Pippin)

P.S. If you want to undertake this trek (and we think everyone should), we highly recommend the Sherpa Van Project for booking accommodations and luggage transfers. We'd also love to offer any help in planning. Do it!

Gallery

Just some of our favorite photos from our trip.

Feet, in Ennerdale Water.

Walking along the River Liza, looking up at the beginnings of the fells of Lakeland - like the Misty Mountains. One starts to feel just a very small hobbit in a large world.

Sweet, green Borrowdale. This is where I want to retire.

Mild farm country, green, gold, blue.

Golden wheat fields on the way out of Richmond.

A felled tree in Little Beck Wood. . .

Heather on the moors.

Our stones from the Irish Sea, before they're tossed into the North.

Queer Folk, the British

First off, Fell Running. This is undeniable proof that the Brits are mad. We met two fell runners after our first day of hiking - they were in their 50s-60s, had beaten us to our destination by about 2 hours, looked fresh, and had not one ounce of fat on their bones. Nothing so disheartening as to be put to shame by people twice your age on the first day of your journey.

Fell running is basically running up and down peaks. People compete in fell runs in the Lake District - in fact, they compete to see how many peaks one can run in 24 hours. The current record is 77 peaks in a 24 hour period. Sick, sick, sick.

If you think you would like to compete in this demented sport, check out the Fell Runners Association.

We came across two queer things on the way to Osmotherly. First, on a little farm lane (private access had been granted for the C2C) we began to see little signs on posts, advertising a "garden cafe" at the end of the lane. Okay, we thought. Then we saw this:
I keep getting thrown off by the odd use of parenthesese - which is the least odd thing about this. The signs continued - and now I regret not taking pictures of ALL of them. We came to the conclusion that the "cafe" was run by an eight year old out of a farm yard. We were pretty much correct.

Then there was this on the side of a road leading to a bridge:
Yes, that bucket does read "Custard: Best Eaten with Kids" and the pie tin does read "Child Pie."
The sign read: "He eats children With custard." Just to clarify. Didn't want you to think he ate them with gravy, or on the side with his parsnips. No, no, with custard. Children are really more of a dessert type food rather than a savory. I tell you.

There are many, many more things we could tell you. But why don't you read about them here, and then go visit that mad, mad land!

The Conscientious Objectors at Richmond Castle

Those who refused to fight for England in WWI were garrisoned at Richmond Castle. Their thoughts and prayers are written on the castle walls. Here is a sampling of their graffiti, which we found very sad, interesting, and moving.

"I, Percy F. Goldsbrough of Mirfield, was brought up from Pentefrect on Friday, August 11th, 1916, and put into this Cell for refusing to be made into a soldier."

"The only War which is worth fighting is the Class War. The Working Class of this Country have no quarrel with the Working Class of Germany or any other Country. Socialism stands for Internationalism. If the workers of all countries united and refused to fight, there would be no war."

"Stand for the right,
Tho' falsehood reign,
And proud lips boldly sneer,
A poisoned arrow cannot wound
A conscience pure and clear."

Food, Glorious Food

One doesn't usually think of England as brimming over with brilliant food - but it is! At least it is in the pubs along the C2C. We often found what we considered gourmet offerings at pubs - Barnsley Lamb and Wild Game Terrine come to mind. Our absolute favorite places were:
1) Traveler's Rest Pub in Grasmere
2) The Rowan Tree in Grasmere
3) The Shap Chippy - seriously!
4) The YHA Keld - seriously! Too bad they are closing the place down. Pity.
5) Arncliffe Arms in Glaisedale
And the Taste of Thailand in Richmond is superb - but, of course, not qualifying as English fare.

Typical (but blurry) Full English Breakfast - but with scrambled eggs instead of the usual fried. This is usually preceded (in B&Bs) by cereal and juice, and accompanied by way too much toast and marmalade, baked beans, and Fried Bread - the greatest invention known since the wheel. I don't care how bad it is healthwise, I will always eat fried bread when offered. What is it? It is exactly what it sounds like.

Ah, the hand pie - in this case, a Cornish Pasty. Warm, flaky, full of yummy stuff. A man and his well-earned ale at end of day.

Do I even need to comment here? Best scone I've ever eaten - at the Rowan Tree in Grasmere. This combined with a pot of tea comprise what they call a "cream tea."Best fish 'n ' chips I have ever had, hands down. The fish is the key - super super fresh.Blurry again, but I had to include Lamb Henry - lamb shank with mint sauce, swimming in gravy. It's kind of fun to see hundreds of fat lambs on the hike during the day and think, "I'm gonna eat one of you tonight!"

Our Kit of Wonders

What did we take on our trip?

First off, our very favorite things on this trip:
#1 Tiger Balm - smear yourself at night with this
#2 Lucozade - the orange flavor, uncarbonated type
#3 Kendal Mint Cake - our great discovery: minty fresh and sweet, for energy and a feeling of reinvigoration during sweaty, smelly times

Clothing-wise, per person:
1 waterproof, breathable shell - we liked our Marmots
1 fleece
5 sweatwicking tops - long & short sleeved
1 pair waterproof pants, with zips for putting on over boots
2 pairs of sweatwicking pants, 1 of which was convertable to shorts
1 pair of running shorts
5-6 pairs hiking socks - we swear by SmartWool - no blisters!
1 hat, for the sun

Gear:
Trekking poles (more for testing bogs than walking, really)
Flashlight
Compass
Whistle
Swiss Army knife (handy for cutting molsekin, etc.)

Kit:
1 First Aid Kit
Blister packs
Moleskin
Duct tape
Tiger Balm
Alleve/Advil
Bug repellent
Vaseline (for blisters, chafing)

Food:
Lucozade (British glucose drink)
Peanut M&Ms
PowerBars
Roasted Nuts
Whatever chocolate we could pilfer from our B&B!

Guides:
Henry Stedman's A Coast to Coast Guide (great detailed maps and tips on where to eat)
Wainwright's A Coast to Coast Walk (just for amusement, but also good for checking elevation for climbs, since Stedman doesn't give the #s for those)
OS 33 & 34 (in the end not really necessary, but we looked at it once or twice when Stedman and Wainwright needed some sort of confirmation at a sticky part)
Plastic page protectors for photocopies of Stedman's maps - kept the rain out and the paper from being shredded by our constant handling

Duct tape can be surprisingly useful:

You can use it to secure moleskin ever more effectivley - but this did end up making little sores on my skin where the threads from the duct tape pulled.You can use it to reconstruct your socks so that the edges of your hiking boots don't rub that throbbing tendon on your ankle.

The C2C Fantabulous Zoo

No, Mr. Customs Agent, we sure didn't walk on no farmland...At Ennderdale Water - a curious little duck.

An example of the billions and billions of sheep we would see.An overfriendly horse in Borrowdale.We also walked by 1 or 2 bulls during our trip - I have no pictures because I was scared out of my mind and wasn't about to risk my life to snap a photo. D usually walked ahead, abandoning me to the mad whiles of staring, angry bulls. On another note, about nursing, D noticed that lambs would run up to their mothers when we passed by and begin rooting - like a reflex to fear. For some reason, D found this highly annoying.

We were almost run over by these sheep - the dramatic shot of these would have been when they were charging us head on - of course, the camera came out only after they were passing us and the moment of panic was over!Did I mention that we saw sheep? Sheep on the grass, sheep by the rivers, sheep by the lakes, and, here, sheep on the moors, chomping away at the heather. Mmmmm, sheep.

Getting There: From Connecticut to St Bees

Several thousand miles, around 24 hours, 2 planes, 2 trains, and a stroll
Accommodation: Tomlin Guest House

A long day - almost as long as The Longest Day - our trip from Chicago to Tianjing via Beijing. This was our itinerary (and additions):
- drive to Jaos' in Jersey City (traffic jam)
- subway to JFK Airport, NYC (95 degrees and humid)
- JFK to London Heathrow (1 hour delay on the ground in killing heat - no ground crew to AC us up since some other plane got a hose in its engine and caught fire)
- London to Manchester (on a later flight since we missed our connection)
- Manchester to St. Bees via Carlisle on 2 trains
We enjoyed some cornish pasties at Manchester Piccadilly. It was lovely to see the Irish Sea finally from our train window. It was grey and serene and I wouldn't have been surprised to see a Selkie swimming by.
St. Bees is green and pastoral - the perfect place to start. Our hostess at the Tomlin Guest House, Irene, knew us immediately and asked about our names. She knew "Singh" should be sikh, but Devin was turbanless, of course. She was great. We got settled, ordered our breakfast for tomorrow - black pudding for me! - and went to explore. That's when the fog of travel began to wear away and we began to get excited! Sheep stared at us from fields, the rain pattered on our jackets, and a cool wind blew as we made our way to Priory Church. We stomped through an old graveyard to get there - well, the earliest grave I saw was dated 1820. The Norman West Door of the church was quite impressive, and the dragon lintel opposite, dated from the 12th C. intriguing in its serpentine knots.

In our trusty waterproof Marmots, in our first venture out at St. Bees.

The Norman West Door at Prior Church

Then a walk up to the Queen's hotel. We sat in their lovely garden room for dinner, which was chips and scampie for D and "Val's Homemade Steak and Kidney Pie" for me. Chips doused in salt and vinegar. Mmmmm. I was too tired by then to talk so we mostly eavesdropped on our neighboring diners - a group of older folk also going on the C2C for what seemed to be their nth time).
Here we are, back at the B&B, drinking hot cocoa after a shower. Lights out soon - after we review our day to YHA Ennerdale. It'll be grueling, but I hope for the best. Even if it rains I'm sure I'll love it. Go Team Merry and Pippin!

Day 1 - St. Bees to Ennerdale: The Adventure Begins

19 miles, 9 hours, 1 strange dinner
Accommodation: YHA Ennderdale

Today dawned bright and beautiful - green and gold and blue on the Irish Sea! We had breakfast at 6:45, Scottish porridge and black pudding - like a bready, earthy tasting sausage. We got our packed lunches, paid up, and set off. We did the requisite dipping of our boots in the sea and picked up a pebble each to be thrown in the North Sea at Robin Hood's Bay.
The walk along the sea was absolutely gorgeous - cool breeze, bright sunshine, sheep dotted lawn on the right hand side, cliffs, seagulls (flying below us), and blue sea to our left. We trudged through bracken and heather and tall grasses, past the beautiful (and functional) lighthouse. This verse by Christina Rossetti, quoted by V. Woolf, came to mind:

My heart is like a rainbow shell,
That paddles in a halcyon sea,
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love has come to me.

Turning inland, we walked along idyllic farm roads - oh, and were greeted by "Jess," the collie. Henry Stedman (our guide book author) actually instructs us to send him back to the farm. He pattered after us after we had passed, and, after a few pats on the head, returned to the farm buildings. In one field we had our first encounter with cows at close quarters - but they simply stared at us out of their mild, liquid eyes.I had a pee in a ditch by the road - this whole time we saw not one hiker! Just a few cheery gents who ribbed us for doing the C2C - "You're pushing your luck! You won't get far." In fact, until the end of the day, we so not a single Coast-to-Coaster!
Well, after Sandwith (pronounced "Sannith") and from Cleator we beheld Dent Hill - "hill" apparently meaning to the British "1000' climb". Holy Cow. That thing was steep enough that we couldn't tell when we would reach the top. It was pretty rough, especially with the bright sun beating down on us. Thankfully it was not hot or humid. At the summit we met a man and his son who were going the opposite way, on a relay tour for the John Muir Trust, to raise environmental awareness. He asked if we knew of Muir, to which I replied, "I grew up in California."

View of Dent from Cleator

At the top of Dent - taken by the John Muir relay walker.

We walked a little more on the summit and then plopped on the grass by the path to eat our lunch: sandwiches of ham, cheddar, cucumbers, and some sort of relishy raisin/onion thing. Also crisps, apple, fruitcake slice, and a strange mint bar - like a bar made of the inside of a York Peppermint Patty - supposedly used by Sir Hillary on his climb up Everest.
The descent from Dent was very steep - a bit scary. Reminded me of the "Princess Bride" where Buttercup says, "And you can die too, for all I care!" and pushes Wesley over. D's knees were killing him. Then Nannycatch Beck (what a name - a bit "pervy" if you ask me) was lovely - sheep (on our path and blocking the way), running brook - which, however, only frustrated us since we were low on water and not sure when our next fill up would be and so could not drink as much as we wanted - 5 gallons seemd about right! Finally, at Ennerdale Bridge we filled up - or D did as I sat in the grass. The thought that some people ended their 1st day here was a bit agonizing. But it was only 2PM and we had 5 miles still to go.
And what an amazingly beautiful 5 miles - by Ennerdale Water. Sapphire blue and between the fells, the beginnings of the Lake District. At the water D insisted we take off our boots and socks and soak our feet in the cool water. Ahhhh....
A little duck made a beeline for us - from about 200 meters away on the lake - and very politely inspected our socks to make sure we didn't have any spare morsels for her. Then it was time to haul ourselves to the other end of the lake. Lovely - except in the 2nd half a lot of scrambling on stones - highly offensive to me, weak-ankled that I am.
Then through a small patch of wood, over a field and down a lane. Mind you, we had several diversions (i.e. being lost) so by the time we got "home" to YHA Ennerdale it was 6PM.

Taken during one of our "diversions".

Here we took hot showers - glorious - and hobbled downstairs to await dinner - which ended up being pretty bad camp food. Not dodgy or anything, but basically cold-ish, unflavored, and made by obviously amateur cooks: chicken "casserole" being bits of cut up boiled chicken and cold couscous. Rhubarb and apple crumble - not very sweet and pretty flavorless. But I ate every atom of food. Eating to fuel oneself really changes things.
We sat with 1 young man, Richard, who is beginning his PhD at Cambridge in theoretical physics, and 1 older couple from the Yorkshire Dales, who are hardcore walkers. I told them our PhD fields and think the woman misheard and thought D is going to study Geology. D later told me: "That's the last thing I would study. Well, maybe not. Actually, yes." We had a nice chat and the couple told us their funny walking adventures and travels, e.g. in Carson City on a tour of CA/NV where they took advantage of the 99 cent buffet every night! They made fun of our gigantic OS maps, which we laminated with contact paper - "Is that your rain shelter?"
D and I sat outside after dinner in our fleeces. It really is like camping as I remember it, always cold. We discussed our next day - 2 choices: High Stile alternative or the low route. The couple and Richard thought today was tough - but for the opposite reasons of why we thought so: "No climbing, but it was hot." What? Dent was, apparently, a stroll? Hot? At 65 and breezy? Who are you people? So, if Dent was easy, I'm not so sure about Red Pike - 2000'! We'll see. I'm going to bed now in my bunk - sharing a room with the woman from dinner. It's 10:30 now, maybe I'll get 9 hours of sleep to rest my bones!

Day 2 - Ennerdale to Honister Hause: Fog on the Barrow Downs

6 1/2 miles, 4 hours, acres of green, green grass
Accommodation: YHA Honister Hause

Misty, rainy morning - just a little mao mao yu. I set my alarm to 6:30 am by mistake, instead of 7:30. I didn't realize my mistake for a while, so was wondering where everyone was and why breakfast was being started so late. I used the extra time to sit outside on the picnic bench - read the YHA's copy of Gaskell's North and South. Give me a Victorian novel with lots of yummy details and I'm happy. Also laughed at the sheep baahing nearby - one in particular sounded so weird, like a human making fake sheep noises. They were very noisy, in an un-noisy way.
We had an English fry up - D felt skivved out by his, especially with that dinner from last night. We decided on the low route. Not being "supermen" as Wainwright says we must be to attempt it, we didn't feel up to the High Stile alternative - especially with the fog and D's wonky knee. From the low route - a very pretty path thru the valley forest - we were quite happy with our decision, especially seeing how damn steep and high above us it was. The valley and view of the falls was lovely, like "Fog on the Barrow Downs" without the sinister feeling.
We got to Black Sail Hut YHA and it's nestled on the fair green downs before one gets to the craggier peaks. We promptly sat down on the lovely grass and had our elevenses. It was absolutely peaceful and still and, again, not a soul in sight.

What a lunch spot!

The grass here is unbelievable. It's a new feeling just to lie down freely on the ground - and not in a park but in the wilds.

Then we made our way up Loft Beck. We climbed alongside the beck (stream) but though steeper, it didn't feel half as bad as Dent. Maybe because all was misty and sweet. We met a dad and daughter coming down, with their dog Charlie, who carried his own pack on his back. He must've been tired - while we talked he promptly lay down for a quick snooze. The dad was very jolly and nice - told us to spread the word in the States about the Lakelands. Told us he thought of 3 things when we mentioned Chicago: 1) good food, for some reason, 2) mobsters, and 3) cars. The third confused us - "Maybe Michigan, more, perhaps?" He told us how at the tender age of 11 he ran away from home to see the mountains for 3 weeks. When he returned home they were holding his memorial service! "Dad beat the stuffin' outta me - but did it stop me? No! And here I am!" They were so warm, and happy to see some Americans in the fells. Come to think of it, so far we've met no other Americans.
At the top of Loft Beck we had a gorgeous view of Ennerdale Water and Buttermere, especially the Innominate Tarn, which we were sad to miss but, hey, our knees need to survive all 192 miles! The top was Quietness Embodied in Landscape - sheep grazing round the grass and cairns. D has dubbed himself Cairn Builder, since we can't be Fell Walkers as we haven't walked a proper fell yet! And what am I? Pee Taker, maybe?

The view down to Ennerdale Water from the top of Loft Beck - it's amazing to think we were there yesterday - and have walked all the way to where we're standing!

Still on Loft Beck, looking now to our right at the Innominate Tarn - "a quiet place, a lonely place," as Wainwright describes it - and asked to have his ashes spread by it, which they were.

Down a torturously rocky path to Honister Slate Mine - noisy and ugly after all the quiet beauty. We got the shop - nothing worth buying, and the YHA Honiser Hause - closed, and it was only 1:30! With no really sufficient lunch we decided to hoof it another hour to Seatoller for a pub. For me, the trek down (and later up) was painful, with a tendon in my left foot very tender. I have some moleskin and duct tape on my right, which helps, but the left doesn't seem to improve with anything. Sigh.
Ate at the Yew Tree Pub - a low ceilinged, wood beamed hobbity place. Leek and chicken pie, stuffed jacket potatoes with "Coronation Chicken" (??) and cocoa with marshmallows. Ahhh. After that, and fiddling with moleskin, we trudged back up to the YHA.
Dinner with a very nice couple from Hereford - John and Linda - and Johann, from the Netherlands (was also at the YHA Ennerdale, but we sat at another table). John and Linda will give us all a ride down the hill tomorrow - we aren't cheating as we've already trekked to Seatoller! They were fun to talk to, and the YHA worker also. He was a graphic designer, worked 10 hrs/day and hated it and chucked it all to work here and go climbing everyday. He's going to New Zealand and to pay for it is going to partake in a medical trial! Sometimes I wish I were as carefree/reckless. The owners of the mine nextdoor fly a helicopter in and out everyday. The YHA guy is attempting to get in their good graces so he can score a ride.
Everyone here seems to hate London, and if they worked there they wanted to get out as soon as possible. Linda said, "Once you've seen Big Ben and Parliament there's nothing else - you should just get the hell out of there." She told us about a tour of a cave that contains a generator under a lake (sucking the water in and out of the lake for hydro-energy). She said they turn it on at strategic moments - like during commercial breaks in the World Cup, when everyone puts on their kettles!
I played Gin Rummy and 9 Card Brag with John and Linda and Johann, and then D joined us for Jenga (as D doesn't do cards). Now we're journalling in our 2-bunk room before sleep. So far so good - no rain, almost no hikers, YHA emptyish tonight (for once, says the worker). We saw 3 women who were at the Tomlin House on our way back up from Seatoller to Honister Hause. "Why are you coming this way?" they asked. D: "Oh, we've already been to Robin Hood's Bay and back."
Tomorrow: low route, maybe? Rather than Calf Crag and all that. Maybe save our knees and muscles for Helvellyn. We are just amateurs.