Kit for the Pennine Way

Here is some of the things I'm taking on the Pennine Way walk. Can anyone spot the obvious thing that is missing from the photo? Can you guess what it is yet?...

Day16 Kirk Yetholm

Day15 Clennell Street

Day14 Bryness

Day13

Day12 Greenhead

Day11 Alston

Day10 Dufton

Day9 Forest-in-Teesdale

Day8 Bowes Castle

Day7 Keld

Day6 Hawes

Day5 Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Day4 Malham Cove

Day 3 Ponden

Day2 Hebdon Bridge

Day2 Crowden

Day1 Old Nags Head Edale

DAY SIXTEEN

DAY SIXTEEN

We woke around 6am, hot and uncomfortable from a night stuck in a tent. The sun was aleady warm through the fabric, but we lay still for another hour before getting up around 7:30. Knowone had passed the tent all night and only now at eight, did the first of the morning cyclists ride past up to Kings Seat.

Ash set about making a welcomed cup of tea, as I hopelessly tried to dry out the tent and remove hundreds of drowned midges stuck to the fabric. After a bit of breakfast we were packed and heading off. I was surprised how the weight of our backpacks didn't drag us down. We did struggle to agree who had the heaviest pack, but I think we agreed it was mine (that's right wasn't it Ash?)

The first hill of the day wasn't too bad, up to Kings Seat. By now we could see down accross the full Cheviots and even out to the sea.. Beautiful rolling countryside surrounded us in all directions, and it was another hot day.

Ash insisted that If we had come this far we had to climb the additional distance up to the Cheviot ridge at 815. Although this was another two miles, the climb was worth doing for the view and cool breeze, not to mention the sence of achievement.

The Schil was our next big climb, after passing another mountain rescue hut and a team of people learning mountain rescue skills. We were only 6 miles off the end of the day and we were starting to get excited, starting to realise we might actually make it, and foolishly relaxing a little too much and not mentally preparing ourselfs for the long climbs we still has ahead if us. We hoped a surprise party might be waiting for us with Pimms but alas nothing at the top of the next hill.

Once off the Schil a decission had to be made as the PW route split. One way down hill, and 4 miles; the other, up hill and 4.5 miles. Being insane and purists there was only one thing to do, up! If we had realised quite what was meant by 'up' we'd probabley have thought longer about our decission. The remaining journey was tough going with an especially steep up to White Law Hill. All being said, the view was great and, we could almost see down the road into Kirk Yetholm.

The final half a mile was along a tarmac road. It was really hot and yet another final up hill. By now we were exhausted and every footstep was taken knowing we were almost, almost there.

Round a final corner and we started to enter the village. Quite houses lined the side of the road as it opened up to the village green. Just as the final sign was in view we heard the church bell chime out 3pm calling us home from our journey. The village was quiet but for a few people sat outside the pub. They watched as we crossed the green to take our photo at the official finish, knowone knew we'd just walked 260 miles, who we were, our our story. We strode through the door of the pub, with a smug sence of satisfaction, and a little sadness, that it was over.

Inside the pub we asked for the Pennine Way book and recieved our free half as we thouht if something to write to mark the occassion. By now my legs had siezed up and I struggled to get up for another drink and then the three minute walk to our final B&B at the Cross Keys.

We were welcomed in by Mrs Doyle who showed us our room and a postcard left by my parents to welcome us. After a brilliant power shower, Dawn arrived, and we headed to the Boarder pub for a hearty and delicious meal.

We did it! We actually did it we celebrated! What a strange mix of emotions washed over me as I reflected upon everything we had achieved.

DAY FIFTEEN

DAY FIFTEEN

Packing was proving difficult this morning. How were we going to fit it all in? Somehow we managed to pack everything in and strap the tent onto the bottom of Ash's bag. We went down for breakfast early as Ash wanted to get a little snooze in before we left. As a result of our or troubles packing however, he never did get they snooze as we had to leave by ten.

The bags were heavy and the hill out of Bryness was long, steep, fill of flies and very very hot! We were walking at an almost snail like pace as we struggled to keep our balance for the climb. Eventually the forest cleared and a welcome breeze greeted us at the top. We stopped to admire the view and see where we had walked from. I pretended to admire the view for a much longer time than necessary just to cool down.

Lots of ups and downs lay ahead of us as we strode out the two final days onto the Cheviots. No sooner had we achieved one sumer before we were heading down for another. This really was going to be a tough end to the journey. We soon lost count if the ups and downs. Byrness Hill, Houx Hill, Lamb Hill, Beefstand Hill, Windy Gyle etc...

The walk up all of these, and especially up to Windy Gyle, was indeed very windy. It was hard to keep upright in places, with our big bags on, as we got blown sideways along the paths. As we reached the summit we sheltered as we watched blue skys turning darker.
  
By the time we reached Clennel Street it was time to find somewhere to camp for the night. It was also time for god to decide it was high time for some rain. Virtually no rain all week and then the heavens open and it buckets it down. The one time we really didn't need it too! We trapsed about now soaked through looking for a good place to camp. In the end we settled for a less than great spot, but by now it was a matter of getting some shelter and getting away from the rain, flies and increasing midge population. The tent went up in record time and Ash dived in closing the door quickly to prevent too many insects getting in. I stood outside and passed items through a small opening in the door before making a quick leaping entrance crying "shut the door, shut the door" as I got in. 

Inside the tent it was really hot. There was almost no ventelation and we had gassed ourselfs with insect repellent. We could do little but hide in the tent all night. There was no way we were going outside to cook. Fortunatelly we had a massive picnic prepared for us by Kate so we didn't starve.

It sounded like it was raining outside all night as we slept. We realised that it was infact millions of midges hopping on and off the tent all the time. Never have I seen so many before. It would have been relaxing if not for feeling incredibley itchy, hot and generally uncomfortable. However soon tiredness got the better of me and I finally fell asleep to the sounds of the forest, the owls and the stillness.

DAY FOURTEEN

DAY FOURTEEN done

We woke just in time to go through to breakfast. There were already five People round the table. A couple from Germany who were cycling, a couple from Austraila touring, and a guy from university doing the lands end to john o grotes path. We had a good chat with everyone and wished them well on their journeys. I had to go back to the bedroom and peform a minor miricle and fit everything back into my bag, that had exploded all over the room like a volcano, the night before. 

Walking out of the village we stopped at the butches, the bakers, but not the candle stick makers. We bought some nice roast beef sandwiches and cakes. When I went to buy a cake I'd had no sooner set foot in the door before she asked what I wanted. I told her I was just looking at the moment as a cake choice decissions takes time. 

As we wakled out of the village we met a group of people completing the PW in nine days in aid of 'Hope for Heros'. We were impressed at their 33 miles a day but were glad we were taking a slightly longer time to appreciate the walk. This didn't however stop the competitive streak in Ash coming out as he insisted we overtook them on the official (longer) PW route, when it split with a choice of alternative directions. We were up the hill above them walking parallel. All the time Ash keeping an eye on them to make sure we were making ground on them. But then I got pins and needles in my foot and slowed to a more like hobble sprint as we fought to maintain our lead. Soon it was clear we were well ahead, as we crossed the road about half a mile ahead of them. Ash patted me and said "well done".

Over the next ridge we came across a lady with a wonderful dog called Ben. Ben was a big softie. He was black and White and fluffy and just rolled about on the ground and looked generally really content. We overtook her as she ate her lunch, and then she overtook us as we ate ours a mile ahead.

Today we really entered the thick of Kielder forest up a very steep and overgrown grassy path. Wildlife was everywhere as huge dragon flys zoomed past, a small orange frog hopped in the grass, and a long lizard bathed himself in the sunshine on the footpath. From here we skirted the edge of the forest before heading into a more managed part of the wood with heavy rubble roads and tree felling.

Yet more yapping dogs greeted us as we reached one of Kielders visitors spots. Fortunatelly we confused them by crossing a bridge. The last bit of todays journey was peaceful along the river with it's babbling brooks and wild flower banks. 

Kates tea room and the B&B were in sight, just one horrible steep drive way up to the house and we were there. Kate was knowhere to be seen at first as she hurried about helping other people. We sat down and breahed a sigh of relief to take our boots off.

We had had a good days walking today to have arrived by three thirty. This meant we were able to have a long cat nap before Kate kindly offered to make us some tea at seven. Zzzzzzzzzzz

We both had spicy soup for a starter, with enough butter provided for a whole loaf of bread. I then had a very nice lasagne, while Ash had a curry. Ash looked longingly at my fresh salad (since we had struggled to get much veg or fruit this trip) I gave him just one piece of radish. Ash later had starwberries and ice cream. His face lit up like a child who had been given the key to the sweet shop (He gave me just one strawberry).

By nine we were back in our room, and by eleven we had just about worked out how we were going to fit all the camping equipment into the bags and be able to carry them. Even taking only essentials we struggled, as we needed to carry alot of water. Lights out at eleven fifteen and before long Ash was snoaring and I was staring at the ceiling wishing to be sleeping.

DAY THIRTEEN

DAY THIRTEEN

Waking up this morning was a bit different to the other days. This morning unlike other mornings I woke up to the sound of not sheep baa-ing, not birds chirping, nor Richard snoring but a small child crying. I didn't mind though, I knew it was Isabella the 16 month old grandaugher of Roger and Lorna of the Tantallon House in Gisland. I knew when I went for breakfast, Isabella would be all smiley and cheeky and up to mischief!

After a hearty breakfast we set off back to Greenhead where we left the Pennine Way yesterday. This was just over 2 miles but the route follwed the Earthworks of Hadrian's wall so was interesting. At Greenhead we picked up the Pennine Way but hopped off and back on again to see Thirlwall castle. The castle ruins also gave us some shelter from the rain shower.

After the shower passed we follwed the pennine way along to where it met the Hadrians Wall path, another National Trail. On the way we walked down a small lane flanked by a wood. I looked at Richard to see a swarm of flies attacking him like a plague of locusts. As we walked down the lane the flies buzzed around and around his head like the horses on a fairground carousel. We tried to spray them with insect repelent but it had no effect so I kept my distance for a few hundred yards.     

Once walking along Hadrians wall, the flies had gone and the sun came out. There were lots of people walking this route, more than we had seen on the whole of the Pennine Way so far. The path was up and down all the way as it followed the historic wall for about 8 miles. Occassionally we would come accross the ruins of a milecastle or a turret and imagine what it looked like 2000 years ago.  

We stopped briefly at Sycamore Gap (Robin Hood's Tree from the 1991 film with Kevin Costner. This was by far the busiest part of the route so we just stopped long enough for Richard to have a starjump photo.

The Pennine way left the Hadrian's Wall Path just before Houseteads Roman Fort. I wanted to go to look at the fort which meant adding another mile or two to our day which was already 21 miles long. Richard wasn't keen as he had been before so I had to bribe him with the promise of an ice cream and a cup of tea. Of course thinking of his stomach, Richard obliged. At this point we also stopped for lunch and now that Richard was in a cheery mood eating the bacon frazzles I had bought him (and the promise of ice cream), I managed to trade my egg mayo sandwich for his cheese hamwich.

After lunch we walked to Houseteads Roman Fort and had a good look around. I had to buy Richard a cup of tea and an exotic fruit Solero before he would get out his English heritage  membership card though.  The fort was worth the visit. It would have been even better if the 2000 year old toilets had been useable as using the 21st century ones meant another walk down a hill and all the way back up again. Also Richard would have prefered the hospital to be more than just a few stone walls because his feet were hurting him today. He was sitting next to the hospital sign on the ruins looking sad and rubbing his feet but didn't get him any sympathy from the other tourists. In fact one lady stood on his toes as she tripped over him and he yelped with pain.

After leaving Housesteads we walled back along the wall to pick up the Pennine Way where we left it. The remainder of the walk was about 10 or 11 miles and it was already 3.30. The path took us through Kielder Forest for the next 5 or 6 miles. In a large break in the forest we had to cross a big grassy field. We met two other walkers that we had given directions to this morning. They had just stopped for a snack. They told us that a goblin awaited for us at the other end of the field and that the guy that just crossed didn't make it. We told them it was okay because we were meeting our friend the Gruffalo and his favourite food is goblin stew. We passed the field and the next part of forest safely but we never did see the walkers again so we are unsure if they got gobbled up.

Out of the forest it was about 5 miles to Bellingham. The path took us over quite a few rolling hills and past a large relay mast. We also got chased by a pack of dogs, all 7 of them barking drooling and jumping up at us. Once we made it through the next gate, the owner finally came out to see what the noise was but didn't appologise.

Soon we arrived at Bellingham and found our B&B in the centre of the village. Ken showed us around whilst Joyce made us a lovely pot of tea. We had to drink it fast though as it was almost 8.30 and we had to sort something for tea. 

After a quick shower and change, We limped over the road to the Rose and Crown for fish & chips night. The plate was piled high with chips and then two large pieces fish on top.
After a good effort we were defeated but it was delicious!

DAY TWELVE

DAY TWELVE

We woke with the intention of getting off on time. We went through to breakfast on time, and tucked into cerial and fruit juice before a massive breakfast. Pat was attentive offering more tea and toast. Before we left we got chatting, and before long, we had been chatting to Pat for almost half an hour and were now late leaving. We wished Pat and Lez goodbye with s firm handshake and even a hug and a kiss from Pat. She even went in for a second from Ash, but we were already running late.

We spent the morning Following the river after deciding we didn't have the energy to walk back into Alston to find a packet lunch. It was a pleasent start to the day and followed a dis used rail track in parts. By about twelve we were reaching the only pub on the days walk. Considering we were still full from breakfast we decided not to do the detor to the pub and carry on. 

At the top of the next ridge we bunped into Geoff and Ann again sitting eating their tasty looking lunch. We carried on green with envy, and sat on a bridge a short distance ahead, and tucked into a nice fruit and nut selection and apples and bananas.

Up the next hill there was promise of a Roman Road. Were were delighted to see it had completely grassed over and didn't resemble another gravel path of torture. From here on the going was up and over fields and styles. I wondered just how many styles we had walked over during our trip. 

On heading into some mooreland we came across six walkers a little lost. It turns out they were the Bolton Walking Club from Blackburn. We were surprised and impressed to see them walking with a blind man. This was made all the more impressive by how fast they were travelling. 

By now I was in some pain. I was desperate to get to the guesthouse and get my boots off. It was at this point we decided to check the exact location of tonights B&B on google maps. You can imagine my face when I realised it was actually 2 mile off route out of Greenhead in the wrong direction! Ash would say I was moaning but seriousley I hobbled the last two miles. Ash showed sympathy " ooh I do feel for you" then quizzed me on if we were actually walking along the route of Hadrian's Wall, if the wall, or above the walk, or in the ditch and the whole history if Hadrians wall of which I knew nothing.

FINALLY we arrived at the B&B. Never had I been happier to see a bed and the chance to put my feet up. We were served tea and Mr.Kipling bakewells (Ash ate two) before crawling down the road to dinner. The pub looked ruff from outside but has to be said it was great food, and a nice place to spend a tired evening after walking.

After a slow slow walk back up the hill we were back home and ready for a sleep.

DAY ELEVEN

DAY ELEVEN

The alarm was set for 7am this morning. When it went off neither off us wanted to get up so Richard reset it for 7.30. I finally woke up at 7.45 and jumped out of bed to shower expecting breakfast to be at 8. I thought it was strange that Richard was still in his bed 10 minutes later but he was laughing from his bed as he told me that he ordered breakfast for 8.30 instead of 8. I was gutted to find I could have had another 15mins on bed.

Breakfast was one of the best yet with freshly made fruit smoothies, fruit salad, yoghurt and home made bread. We then had scrambled eggs on toast with fresh eggs from the hens that Ray kept in the garden. The eggs were bright yellow and were the best i've ever tasted. 

Before long we were on our way. It was a long climb up Old Knock Man, the first of four hills we had to climb today. Already it was quite a warm day so we took it quite slow and steady. At the top we didn't stop long, just enough to eat a banana to give us energy to tackle the other three summits. Next came Great Dun Fell with the radar station sitting on top. It looks like eggs sitting in an egg cup. At the top, again we kept marching on.  Next we climbed up Little Dun Fell which did not feel so little! Still marching on we reached the top of Cross Fell, the highest point of the Pennine Way. We were so excited we ran for the first time since Edale to the trig point to take a photo. The views had been fairly good until now but as we got here we were in the clouds and mist so could not see far. We decided as the rest of the day was going to be an easy downhill we would stop for lunch provided by the B&B consisting of cheese and pickle sandwiches in homemade bread and homemade fruitcake.  

After lunch we were quite giddy at the thought of an easy downhill & flat afternoon. Boy were we wrong! The path was made of 'death gravel'. It was the the hardest ankle twisting rubble going and the path was never ending. Imagine the longest time you have ever had to wait for anything and multiply it by a million. This path went on for that long and just as we thought it was over, there was a bit more.

2 1/2 hours later the path ended at the village of Garrigill. We were quite disheartened by now and the village depressed us more. Everything in the village had closed. The village shop was shut, the post office was boarded up and even the pub was boarded up. The only life in the whole village was a single lonely Romany caravan and two horses. 

We walked through Garrigill quickly and laughed at how our day started off so well and then turned to such a low day. We started talking about the remaining 5 miles and how it would probably be more death gravel and we would probably be staying at faulty towers. Well we were wrong again...  

Just outside Garrigill the footpath led us down the river South Tyne. The footpath was grassy and winded it's way along the river bank through lush buttercup meadows and cool woodland  bursting with wild flowers. Our moods suddenly lifted and the next 5 miles to Alston was a pleasure. We found our B&B in a quiet cul de sac on the edge of Alston. We crept up to the door hesitantly but we were instantly welcomed by a cheerful couple Pat and Les.

After a quick shower and change we headed into Alston for some tea. On the way in we were suprised to see a scarecrow with a paper mâché head sitting in a wheelbarrow of a garden with a sign saying 'Hurry up I'm Hungry'. Just around the corner outside the Alston House Hotel there were two scarecrows dressed as chefs with a sign saying 'homemade food'. As we walked through the village there were dozens of scarecrows dressed up, each telling a different story. We later found out there had been a village competition.

We stopped for tea at The Cumberland. We were now satisfied we were not staying at Faulty Towers but it turned out we were going there for dinner instead.... 

We were given the recomendation to eat at the Cumberland by a couple of girls who had wolf whistled at us as we walked down the street. We headed in and ordered a drink. The pub looked very homely and seeing our walking friends Anne and Geoff in there was good.. We took a table and a rather young waitress came to take our order. She must have been all of about seven and although very friendly, she struggled to understand just what we wanted to order and how to spell it. As a result result, Richard got the wrong meal. When it came one quarter of the plate had our main meal in and the rest of the plate was empty. We waited for the veg to arrive hoping it would fill the rest of the plate but we only got two half baby potatoes a few slices of carrot and one piece of brocolli each.  We laughed and watched as mistakes were made with the other orders and people were offered straws after they had spilt their drinks by accident. We didn't stop for dessert!

On the way home we passed the wolf whistling girls again (now a few Lambrini's drunker) and wished goodnight to the scarecrows before turning in ourselves.  

DAY TEN

DAY TEN

We woke on time and made a concerted effort to be in time for breakfast, since we were due to meet Matt the photographer from the magazine. We went down and soon located him studying a map in the corner. With a nervous tone he asked us if we would mind walking back to High Force waterfall as he wanted photos of us there. We pointed out to him that this was four miles back and would add eight miles onto our day. Matt joined us for breakfast and we all agreed a possible solution to get the photos he wanted and mean we only needed to walk two extra miles.

After leaving Matt we rejoined the Pennine Way for the walk to Cauldren Snout waterfall. It was much more impressive than High Force and we had to scramble up the side to reach the Pennine Way above. A great start to today's walk and worth the balancing act along the bolders up the river edge.

From here we head up onto the moors for a good four miles of heather and scrubland before we crossed a bridge and came accross High Cup. The weather was good and the view clear as we arrived at the head of the valley. Dropping steeply down on both sides we stood looking in awe at the equilivent of Englands Grand Canyon. We stopped for about half an hour and took in the view while eating a very welcome lunch.

Matt joined us again at this point and took some more photos before walking down with us to Dufton. We took Trevor's advice and took the correct path down thus meaning we didn't walk five miles unecessarily. There were great views on the way and we chatted with Matt about our journey so far, and what kind of article they were looking to write. Matt had asked why we choose to do it, and wondered if it was a journey of self descovery. I told him it was something I'd always wanted to do and for Ash it was a chance to do something he would be unlikely get the chance to do.

By about five we arrive in Dufton and thought a drink was in order at the pub. Unfortunately it didn't open until six so we were out of luck and we bid farewell to Matt. We searched the village until we found the B&B Hall Croft. 

It was a charming place run by a retired gentleman and his wife, who was out teaching at the nearby primary school. We were treated to a big cup of tea and homemade cake before being shown our room. 

By about seven we were hungry so we set off to be pub for dinner. It soon became apparent that there was no food being served in the village as they had just fired their chef! Nightmare! What do we do now? The village did nothing and the B&B owners had gone out. Only one thing to do, a picnic in the bedroom with all our bits and pieces we had collected over the last few days. This all went down well with a video an cuppa before bed. 

DAY NINE

DAY NINE

Breakfast was waiting for us when we got up. For the first time in the trip we had been able to specify exactly what we wanted. I opted for scrambled eggs and Ash had poached egg and disgusting  marmite on toast. He had been so excited the night before to see Marmite on the table he almost ran in to breakfast. It took us about another hour before we were ready to leave. We said our goodbyes and thanked the owners for a very welcome stay.

The first part of today was up two hills and over to yet more reservoirs. We then reached a peaceful nature reserve disturbed only by Ash yelping as he got a cramp like pins and needles in his foot. We had to take his boot off and stop for a while before soldiering on. From here the path just went over fields and styles and fields and gates and on and on with the only distraction a big toad leaping about in the grass. He was well behaved and stood for a photo before leaping away.

By about twelve we had arrived at the bridge into Middleton although a little early for lunch we had nothing with us so walked into the village to see what there was. It was a small but charming place. Church had not long finished and there was a buzz to the place. Cyclists, walkers, day trippers, bikers and Pennine Way walkers were all exploring and looking for the perfect spot for a bite to eat. We stopped at the Conduit Cafe for a cheese, leek and potato hot pot and a large pot of tea. The glass table was some what slanted so our food kept sliding slowly away from me as I ate and towards Ash's lap.

From Middleton we set off up river for what turned out to be a lovely walk along the River Tees. The sun was high in the sky and dappled shade provided a pleasant walk up to low force and then high force waterfalls. The only pain of the trip came when I smacked my knee on a giant stile and yelped in pain long enough for Ash to capture the moment in a photo.

We soon arrived at Low Force where a thin suspension bridge crossed the river. "Only one person at a time" the sign said but what with all the weight we had lost walking we chanced it. A little swaying and alot of creaking but we safely made it to the other side to take some photos. Since it was a Sunday, now the place was buzzing with tourists. Ash spent ages seting up a photo only to have to wait even longer to get it without anyone in it.

Trying to find hotel at the end of the pennine way route was a challenge, not helped by exhaustion and not knowing for sure where it was.

We had been warned that this place was little more than a pub with rooms but infact it wasn't all that bad. They were clearly short staffed but did there best to help everyone. The room was a little strange when it comes to decor with purple carpet and yellow nylon bed covers. However we settled in very well and went for a drink in the garden.

After about only five mintues we were under attack! Midges were all over us making it difficult to enjoy a nice drink I'm the sunshine. Before long we could take no more and headed inside for some food. Here we bumped onto our Australian friends again and waited to see if our photograhper would turn up. He was due at 9:30 but in the end we were too tired to stay up so left a message with the bar man to say we would see him in the morning. 

DAY EIGHT

DAY EIGHT

I woke about 6am realising I was no longer warm in my sleeping bag. After checking the time, and seeing if Ash was still sleeping, I pulled the hood of my sleeping bag tighter and slept for another few hours on the hard cold ground, before deciding enough was enough and it was time to get up.

On the way to a hot shower, Heather offered me a big mug of tea, and later brought us each a massive bacon and egg baguette. This was just the thing to motivate us to take the tent down. Good job too as no sooner had I pulled the draw string on the rucksack and Brigantes arrived to collect our bags. 

We set off shortly before 10am with a very steep road climb out of the village followed by another long hill up and over the top. I say top but actually there was another top beyond that top and indeed another and another after that one. After walking over countless false summits we saw Tan Inn in the distance and strode out to be there at twelve when I had planned on meeting my Mum and Dad

We had been spotted from within the Inn, and my dad was stood outside paparazzi style waiting to capture us arriving. The inside of Tan Inn was an odd place, but all the better for being so. A roaring fire was burning in the hearth, (a blessed relief from the ferotious wind outside), the walls were covered with all kinds or curios and half a farmyard wandered around both inside and outside the bar.

My mum welcomed me with a warm embrace from the base camp of a table she had secured in the corner. There was a limited menu on offer as a wedding was taking place, this didn't however stop the jolly bar man from making a huge anouncement when the menu did arrive and exclaiming we should all have the bog pudding!

We all tucked into a hearty bowl of homemade chicken soup while filling in the Pennine Way visitors book and sharing stories. We looked through the book and found Trevor's entry.

After about an hour we said our farewells and went outside to laden up with ibuprofen, plasters and chocolate my mum had kindly brought for us. We set off over the peat bogs. 

On an especially tricky part Ash told me to "just jump over them!" I continued to carefully dodge the bogs and use the grass for support while Ash took to a spot of bog hopping. Famous last words from Ash, as on what must only have been his second jump he went in up to his knees. I have to admit it was hard not to laugh out loud and in fairness Ash was giggling and holding out his muddy phone.  He hopelessly tried to free himself. I came to lend a hand and after three attempts we managed to free Ash and his boot from the bog. Looks like Ash really wanted that bog pudding!

We continued on thinking it really wasn't too much further to Bowes and the end of the day. We soon arrived at a sign saying 'Bowes Circular' and we knew we were heading there so took this path rather than the other Pennine Way signed route. Little did we know that our bed and breakfast wasn't actually in Bowes but six miles out of it. As a result we took a six mile detor we didn't really need to take!

On a plus point it means we did follow the official Pennine Way route and got a chance to see the ruin of Bowes castle, which whilest not very exciting provided a great place to stop for our big sandwiches Heather had made for us. 

After lunch we set off on our journey to Clove Lodge. We didn't actually have a map for this part of the route as it was safely packed in my bag I didn't have with me. We therefore had to use our homeing pigeon instinct to try and find the B&B in the middle of knowhere. 

We headed up a long Tarmac, dead end road of doom, despare and deserted abandonment through a second world war toxic and explosive site. On and on it went and the number or Pennine Way signs dwindled to a point where we were guessing which way to go. At one point we had to consider 'if Wainwrite was here, which way would he have gone?'. Finally we reached the reservoir and walked for about half an hour till we arrived at the end of the road. A well appointed cottage stood before us and a small faded sign read 'Clove Lodge'. Salvation! I was so happy to arrive. We headed round the back and were met at the back door by the owner. 

We were delighted to find out dinner was due to be served shortly as we didn't have anything and had planned on surviving on all the snacks we had with us. Geoff and Anna the Australian couple we had bumped into yesterday were also staying the night so we joined them for dinner. 

What a feast. A tasty tomato based soup followed by a chicken dinner and then a delicious apple crumble. We talked to the couple for hours and as a result all our blogs ended up days late. After dinner we retired to the lounge for coffee (half cups for Geoff) and chatted more about their five year trip exploring the world before heading to bed.

On returning to our room it was so cold  I jumped straight into my bed and snuggled down. Before long I fell into a deep warm sleep.      

DAY SEVEN

We woke in Hawes to find a grey miserable day. We had not drawn the curtains last night and the windows were open as it had been really warm yesterday. 

We stumbled down to breakfast after I had tried to flush the toilet sixteen times and had to open the cictern. My feet and legs were aching so I was thinking to myself this was going to be an awful day, especially knowing that tonight would be spent camping with no pillow or ground mat.

For a brief moment I felt cheery as I realised there was freshly pressed raspberry and apple juice, a welcome change from concentrated orange. We were sat at a table in in the bay window overlooking the garden bursting with agapanthus and lupins. 

For a moment things were looking up especially as I was able to have my egg poached rather than fried, but it was short lived upon pushing the plunger too hard on my over filled cafetiere. I quickly mopped it up and hid the flood of fresh coffee under my placemat which was covered in very bad illustrations of garden herbs. 

After breakfast we quickly departed before the sediment of coffee grains was found on the antique table cloth and they realised Richard had stolen all the butter scotch crunch biscuits.  

Just around the corner we stopped at the bakery. We each choose a pasty and some quiche. The friendly lady gave us an extra piece of quiche. I thought this was lovely but little did I know, a few hours later I would be scooping soggy quiche from the bottom of my day sack. I hinted to Richard to choose a cake as well, he choose two. However Richard's heart sank as he realised he could only carry one so we opted for Yorkshire curd tarts.

On the way out of Hawes  the clouds were starting to lift and it was getting warmer. Either that or I was getting hot from the uphill. I stopped to remove my fleece and an old man was doing the same. The man was in his 70's and was called Trevor. We stopped and talked to him about the pennine way. Trevor had completed the pennine way just 8 weeks ago and had come back to Great Shunner Fell as he loved the views so much. He had brought his wife with him in a caravan and she had let him out for the day whilst she went into Hawes shopping. We had been chatting to Trevor for quite a while so we all started the ascent up whilst we continued. Trevor told us about his worst days, best days and gave us some advice...   

"Do you swear lads?"  
We nodded and smiled.
"When you get to the grand canyon, make sure you don't take the wrong f@€¥!?& footpath to ...oh I forget what it's called"
A shocked Richard chipped in and reminded dear forgetful Trevor that it was the footpath to 'Dufton' he should have taken.

Somewhere near the top we said goodbye to Trevor and took a photo of us all in front of a pennine way sign. We promised that we would look out for his broken walking poles that he had thrown in a ditch near Kirk Yetholm and we would also look him up in the Pennine Way log books at Tan Hill and Kirk Yetholm.

The views from the top of Great Shunner Fell were shortened by the cloud and mist although there was an odd patch of blue sky here and there. It was fairly windy so we only stayed long enough for a handful of nuts and a starjump.

On the way down the clouds shifted and the sun began to shine. We could see at the bottom of the valley, the little village of Thwaite surrounded by bright yellow fields. We knew that our destination Keld was only a few miles around the corner from Thwaite so we took our time and took photos along the long lane into Thwaite. We also spent some time looking for flowers to complete our wild flower spotting book that our friend Colin gave us "in case we got bored" , because wild flower spotting is just so interesting! 

Upon arriving in Thwaite, Richard wanted to go to the tea room for you've guessed it more cake. I reminded him of the freshly baked pasties and cakes in our day packs so he quickly walked on in search of a picnic spot. Past only a few cottages we were out the other side of Thwaite and into meadow upon meadow of buttercups. After passing through them taking more photos we climbed up the hillside on the way to keld and perched in the hot sun for lunch.

Whilst eating our lunch a lovely Australian couple came over the style and along the footpath. They stopped to say hello and we chatted about the weather for a bit. The couple were walking from Lands End to John o Groats and had picked up the Pennine Way for a stretch. As they left I thought that it was fantastic that they had taken 3 months to come to the UK to do this. I hoped I would meet them again and find out a bit more.

After lunch we walked the last 2 miles to Keld. In our minds we had imagined the rest of the way to be buttercup meadows and grassy footpaths. Just around the corner the landscape turned very rugged. Lush grass turned to ankle breaking gravel, stone Walls turned to bolderous foopaths, buttercups turned to thistles and pleasure turned to pain. The next two miles seemed very long and was hard work especially on our feet.  It started to feel like the real backbone of England.

Before reaching Keld, Another old man stopped us with a puzzled expression on his face. He was lost but was sure that he was going the same way he did a few years ago. The man was looking for Crack Pot House. We pointed him in the right direction and showed him the map. The man laughed that he was 'cracking up' so we giggled and wished him well on his way.

By Keld we were ready to stop having hobbled the last mile or so.  Our campsite was about 1/2 mile out of the small collection of houses. On arrival, Heather the owner gave us a big welcoming smile and showed us around. She asked us what we wanted for breakfast and packed lunches and said we could pitch anywhere. I dropped my bags at the nearest pitch and collapsed on top of them in the evening sun.

Our evening was spent pitching the tent, cooking a basic pasta and eating local Wensleydale cheese and crackers with a bottle of wine we chilled in the river. Heather's hens soon came and ate up all our crumbs before nesting down for the night. We took advice from the hen's and got an early night as another walk waited for us tomorrow.

DAY SIX

Day Six

DAY FIVE

DAY FIVE

We both slept soundly last night as exhaustion got the better if us. I lay awake from 8am trying to read the time on the incorrectly set clock and lay there thinking about getting up.

There was a gentle hum of boots coming from the cupboard where we have shoved them the night before and it was another glorious day outside. 

We hobbled down to breakfast ready for a good hesrty breakfast. I have to tell you it wasn't the best. After chocking on the frozen sausage, crucified mushrooms and anailated tomtoes I gave up. It was only topped by the waitress trying to take my full pot of tea away thinking the previous customer had left it.

On the way up to Malham cove we stopped at the National Trust information barn where we learnt how to count sheep to ten (Ash only remember 'ten' which was dick) and identify all the different types of cows. Ash was busy learning bird sounds whilst I left the barn in embarassment of the sounds he was making.

On the way up the cove, I counted 509 steps. Ash counted 300 but we later discovered he was taking two at a time and is after all an accountant. At the top we sat and watched the perigrine falcons swoop high and low over the cove.

Ash tucked into his piece of rich fruit cake from the day before as I sat and had a quiet moment. After about half an hour we started up towards the tarn but not before a quick star jump or two or three or five (Ash kept missing it) but he was using my camera!

Past the tarn there we ascended little fell which turned out to be not so little. The heat was so much we could hardy make conversation so just got our heads down and marched to the twin cairns overlooking Pen-y-Ghent. Here we stopped for our 'un-packed lunch' (we didn't buy one yet again) of dry roasted peanuts, chocolates bars squashed lemon slices. I also ate my piece of fruit cake but decided to throw away the sweaty wedge of cheese that Ash had kindly left for me.

A short stomp downhill revealed that it wasn't a single blister causing my pain but my whole feet felt like they were bursting out of my boots. Ash ordered me to take some ibuprofen and shoved some jelly babies in my mouth to keep me from whinging. Whilst I licked my wounds I counted the 39 insect bites on Ash's legs. He was not amused.

On the way up Pen-y-Ghent we met two very nice people. One had a very long back tooth and foamed at the mouth whilst telling  of his pennine way adventures back in 1974. The other ran past us as we scrambled up to the top.  We soon realised he was just walking and we were crawling in a more snail like fashion. We were motivated by the fast man's promise of a green grassy lane to Horton.

An hour later we realised he had lied to us and by grass he meant steep loose gravel. Ash tried to convince me there was grass down the side but wherever we stepped sharp rocks found there way to stab our blisters through our boots. the path went on for ages and we were delighted when the end was in sight.

We located the guest house near the train station and were warmly welcomed by two cats and a dog, oh and the owners Steve and Johanne. We got changed and joined them for a big pot of tea and cupcakes in the lounge before heading out to dinner and to write this blog. 

DAY FOUR

DAY FOUR

It was about 7am that I woke to hear Richard snoring and chewing on his pillow across the room. The morning sunshine was pouring through the window overlooking the resevoir and through the skylight above my head. "Where am I?" I thought to myself in the moment of hazy morning forgetfulness. "of course it's the Ponden House B&B on the Pennine Way". Richard stired and asked the time. Was I talking to myself or out loud I thought, did I wake Richard with my mumbling or did he just wake up from the bright morning sun? By now Richard was staring at me confused, it seemed like at least 2 minutes since he asked the time and I'd not replied. Quick say something! "Er... It's time to get up!". Richard grunted "Just 5 more minutes" and I smiled in agreement. 25 minutes later we  got up. 

Barbara the B&B owner had laid on a feast for breakfast with cereals, fresh yoghurt, prunes, stewed ruhbarb, Jams, honey and juices to keep us occupied whilst she prepared the perfect full English breakfast. Richard chose some Crunchy Nut cornflakes whilst I admired Barbaras eclectic decor & Artworks.

About an hour later than planned, (this was becomming a reocurring theme) we were on our 'way'. 100 feet up the road, Richard was already sat down. Actually he sat on the bench outside Ponden Hall, which was the same place David Hockney had taken his photo montarge that hung in Barbara's lounge. As usual he demanded a photo so I took pleasure in getting the car in that he asked me not to.

Just outside of ponden on a rather steep uphill we laughed about the notes the farmer had left on the gateposts about his 3 little pigs being hungry and how they loved being tickled under the chin and fed biscuits. I was sad to not see them but RIchard was happy to have the biscuits to himself!

The farmers notes set the tones as we told jokes across the moorland. On the way Richard found a tractor to sit on and we saw a postman in a red van whom we named Pat. We were worried at the lack of a black and White cat and wondered what may have happened?

After a swift lemonade in the Horse and Hounds pub we continued up and over countless lush green fields with commanding views back across the miles we had already walked. We were a bit put out by the way the 'friendly' landlord breathed through his teeth and told us malham was still another 14 miles so the next few seemed to take an age.

At pen Pinhaw, Richard ran to the top in excitement of another walker stopping for lunch. I wanted to run after him but couldn't for my throbbing blisters. At the trig point we admired the rolling hills to gargrave but moved on quickly in search of lunch. Stupidly we had forgotten to ask Barbara for a packed lunch and she had forgotten to ask us.

Along the canal towards Gargrave we spotted a sign for a cafe and tea room 'The Abbots Harbour Tea Room' over bridge 162. Richard followed the scent of the home baked cakes like a hound. To our delight we were served custom made toasties, pots of tea and some millionaire's shortbread. Oh and Richard flirted with the waitress for the last quarter of fruitcake and a wedge of cheese for the road.

On leaving Aboots Harbour across the first hill, Richard seemed to be in pain. At first I thought it was because Richard was having withdrawal symptoms from tea and cake but I high fives the air when he told me of his first blister. By now I already had two black toe nails and three huge blisters. I had almost cried just two days ago walking 28 miles with my blisters and Richard trying to make me run up stoodley pike and down the hill to hebden bridge. I suddenly felt guilty for being so happy at such disasterous news I cheeridly suggested it would not be much longer and it was flat the rest of the way.

Before long I was running accross the main road in Gargrave to take a picture of a sign saying we had walked 70 miles so far on our quest. I dismissed the bit that said we had almost 200 miles to go. Richard was nowhere to be seen. After 10 mins Richard appeared disappointed to see the sweet shop had just closed. As always he had a back up plan and some haribo tangfastics appeared out of nowhere.

Just outside Gargrave by the canal we spotted a sign that said 'Malham 5 3/4 miles. Our hearts sank and I ate my words as it became apparent that we had a few more hills to go. The last few miles seemed to take forever both Richard and I had throbbing feet and sore ankles. We tried to call our friend Johnny to tell him that it was 'a long way' as he reminded us so many times on leaving Manchester. A text had to suffice as there was no answer.

Finally caught sight of Malham village and the towering limestone cove behind. By now we could go no further so we stopped in a field of cows for a brief moo-ment to scoff some more sweets for our final descent.

15 minutes later we but on our brave faces to march through malham like big strong boys hiding our pain. On finding our B&B, 2 flights of stairs, 3 heavy bags made 2 angry walkers.

After comparing war wounds and beingp gassed by smelly boots we crawled to the pub for local fare and hobbled back like Quasimodo in time for bed ready to face the big baa-d world tomorrow.

DAY THREE

DAY THREE

Woke up at a sensible time and headed for breakfast in the White lion pub. Plenty of cerial out in the counter but no bowl so we sat down and waited. A loud Spanish family sat at the table opposite and there two year old girl proceded to rip a leaflet into confetti and throw it over the floor before poring milk and musli onto the table to tuck in. We then had a very nice full English breakfast and Ash braved trying a fried egg.
We had a relaxed start having a coffee with Dawn before we set off down the canal to pick upthe Pennine way.
It was like a photography master class on our way up and out or Hebdon as we stopped to take photos of loads of wild flowers for the spotters book and other interesting things.
Walking up a steep cobbled path, wild flowers covered in morning due leaned in on each side to create something you would see in a Beatrix Potter book. At the top someone was playing a harmonica so Dawn and Ash had s little dance.
We stopped for lunch at a tranquil stream or at least it was apart from the biting insects.
Nothing much more exciting until we got to Bronty land and the Withering Heights farmhouse. Did I say 'more exciting?' this really wasn't much more than a few falling down walls and Ash wanted to know why it wasn't that barn over there, if that pile of rocks over there or the one back there that was the 'actual' place?
And so the walk down to Ponden, a few final fell runners with whippet. Dawn the visious Dog Trampler stood on the poor dog as it ran past.
Final mile was fairly tough Tarmac walking as the signs saying how far still to go were depressing. We arrived late at the guest house and let ourselvs in with a key left in the boot for us. The house was like a colourful David Hockney painting but really nicely decorated and welcoming. We quickly got ready and headed down into Howarth for a pub lunch before dark at the Old White Lion. 

DAY TWO

Day Two
DAY TWO

Day two. The plan was to set off by 7am. After listening to the rain on the slate roof for hours throughout the night, after a toast and crunchy nut breakfast it was acually about 8am before we set off. 
We had to walk two miles back to Crowden before the actual second day of walking started. The faces round the dinner tables the night before had been agasp at our plans to walk the 28 miles to Hebdon Bridge. Only after completing today's walk did we realise quite why they sucked air thorough their teeth and uttered "Oh it's a long way!"
The first four miles was easy going before Ash realised something wasn't quite right in his boots. On closer inspection he realised he had peeled a layer of skin from his heel and it looked especially angry. Ash remained cheery with a whitty joke which resulted in a five minute rolling laugh for sheer whit and stupidity.
From here on it was down hill through bogs and rivers before the gradual asent up to Black Hill and Soldiers Lump. Pretty quiet traffic wise apart from the occasional lunatic fell runner.
Time for a well deserved handful of Asda smart price mixed nuts and a Mr Kiplings bakewell slice.
The remainder of the morning was especially dull with a flagstone path for miles and miles and miles. It wasn't until we reached some reservoirs that it got even more dull. I think we have both seen enough if these for a full lifetime.
After reaching a main road and running back to take a photo of the 76 Pennine Way sign, we stopped for lunch consisting of a ham and cheese salad sandwich provided by Joanne from guest house the night before. A handful of Ash's reggae reagge nuts, Meg, the grumpy mans, Hyper hound came bounding over to mob us, with excitable tail and lick our hands. Did I mention Joannes sandwiches? They were very Good and Ash pointed out I kept mentioning it.
After miles of further walking, and Ash winning an arguement over the name of the Pack Horse path we marched up to White hill covered in old mans beard before the walk down to the M62 footbridge, more crazy fell runners and just in time for more crazy fell runners.
I've always wanted to walk on this footbridge and now I've done it I don't feel a great need to do it again very soon. We had planned to meet dawn here but being ahead of schedule and the heavens opening we were not surprised to walk on without her.
When walking over the bridge we heard a car sound it's horn. It was only on getting to Hebdon did a text let us know that oud friend Colin had, at that precise moment, been driving along the motorway and had seen us. They do say it's a small world.   
The next two hours and forty four minutes (ash insists on acuracy) was made up if about four more reservoirs, kept interesting by a large bag of peanut M&M's and silly categories games.
By now we were soaked through and chafing was becoming a real problem. The final assent was up to Stoodly Pike above a steaming Hebdon Bridge as smoke and mist rose from the valley. 
Inside the tower was pitch black and we couldn't see more than the first three steps up. After searching through Ash's backpack in almost every pocket we found his torch and gingerly assended the tower for fear of a sheep, or worse, coming down from the darkness. Once reaching the top it really wasn't worth the effort in the pouring rain and mist but it had to be done.
And so to the final three miles walk down to Hebdon Bridge. We had to negociate a especially angry bovine hurd who thought the pennine way path was all theirs.
A few final handfulls of Haribo and we arrived in Hebdon Bridge and located the White Lion Hotel.
We were welcomed by a local who at first wanted to know which of the  two football teams we supported before starting a long chat about the pennine way, what jobs we did, how he had owned a walking shop, where he lived and that his wife said no to opening a b&b. He was very nice but I was so tired I soon found myself making polite nods and "oh yes" comments.
After moving our bags from the flooded room we headed out for a very nice Turkesh meal at the olive branch.
Considering I'm writing this at eleven pm and am shatered I'll be amazed if half of it makes sence! Night

DAY ONE

DAY ONE

The first struggle was getting all of our bags to the train station In manchester. Fortunatelly Johnny had agreed to drop us off and we were glad he did as clearly we had packed far too much!

Johnny was quiet, but then it was very early for Johnny, since it was almost 10'oclock. Johnny did however keep reminding us that it was a long way. "oh it's a long way" he repeated like a Parrot, or raw onions the day after that Big Mac you shouldn't have had.

We caught the train to Edale and talked to a monotone man about his experience of completing the Pennine Way back in 1976. He was clearly in a chatty mood and Ash was clearly not. We got off at Edale and searched high and low for a White van with 'Arrow' written on the back that would be our baggage transport for the next two weeks. We met a lovely couple, a charming couple, a delightful couple, who we called Peter and Margaret. We missed their names but these seemed appropriate for a retired couple carrying bags and walking into there twilight years.

By now it was almost eleven and it seemed only appropriate to go to the Penny Pot Cafe for tea before we set of, and besides, we had walked all the way from the train station!

After tea and a very welcome bacon and saysage buttie, we strode along the lane to the Nags Head and the official start Pennine Way. Walking up the lane we spotted about ten flowers from the spotters guide and Ash did insist on taking photos of the wrong colour poppies. He carried on doing this for the next four days and took increasing delight in pointing then out to me.

The first real physical challenge came when we reached Jacobs Ladder and all those steps. We met four ladies huffing and puffing on the way up and didn't really cheer them along by telling them how much further up it went. However they seemed perfectly motivated to follow us as we marched on ahead in our shorts.

At the top of Kinder Scout we sat on the rocks and admired the view. I reminded Ash it was time for a lemon slice, he rolled his eyes! We sat for a while and watched others climbing Jacob's ladder and laughed as a man almost fell off the edge of some rocks trying to photograph the views. His soon to be wife was not as amused.

We soon reached Kinder Downfall and wondered if anyone would be under attack by the vicious flock of sandwich eating sheep. We were delighted to see the full sheep mafia were out as poor unsuspecting victims lost there lunch to an organised attack. Fortunatelly we had learnt this from previous visits and continued on further for our lunch. Of cause before we did, it was only right to watch as bleets and screams followed more bleets and shreaks of the poor unsuspectind day trippers.

The next few miles over the barren moors of Bleaklow were as usual pretty dull. Having walked them many times before didn't help in making them any more exciting. I did however remember some paths, I had walked along some 4 months earlier, in thick thick snow which now looked very different surrounded by the new shoots of bilberrys and wild flowers.

Lunch time was declared upon findind a small stream and a blessed releaf from the unchangung landscape. I tucked into my now melted cheese sandwich while Ash munched on a Tesco BLT. After eying up my sweaty sandwich he offered to go halves.

The end of day one was only round the corner so we set off along the edge of the valley heading down to Crowden. Fortunatelly we decided to use the power of the IPod to locate the first nights B&B. We were glad we did as it was actually two miles out of Crowden and we would have endedup walking right past it and then had to turn round. Ash smugly applauded himself for suggesting we checked and saved ourselfs an unecessary four miles.

On realising we were only a mile from home I was like an impossible school child desperate to get there yesterday. Ash had to rein me in by denying me cake if I didn't calm down.

By six we were walking into the gravel enclosure of the Old House B&B. The place looked deserted, the only sign on the door said reception but the doorbell didn't appear to work. We gingerly krept in as the door creaked with every cm. No sooner had we set foot into the hall and a stocky guy James came over pointing to a corner of the floor exclaiming "leave your boots there!"

After obaying his every command quickly and preciskey, the mood soon lifted as he showed us our room and offered to make a large pot of tea. The feeling of calm only improved as we realised our bags had arrived as planned.

We settled in and enjoyed the huge pot if tea in the conservatory before perusing the menu and selecting a home made steak pie for tea. It was lush! The gravy rich, the meat tender and the pastry light and delight. We complimented Joanne on her cooking before realishing how shattered we were, and how a good nights sleep was in order.

The room was charming, with oak beams and chandelear; A fresh jug of milk with a selection of teas, and above all two very comfortable beds! Before we knew it we were sleeping soundly to the gentle bleet of sheep on the hills outside.