Coast to Coast: Ingleby Cross to Blakey Ridge, 21 miles, Sunday 20th June

Ah, what bliss it was to stay in Park House, our stopover at Ingleby Cross. It’s a tiny cottage, remote from the village, high up in the woods overlooking the Vale of Mowbray, with nothing to disturb it.

Yet it’s fully licensed and served the best food we’d had for days. Marvellous!!

A lovely Full English in the morning set us up for the next longest walk of the holiday; up and over the Yorkshire Moors, climbing all of the main peaks along the way.

The going was tough once again, but at least the weather was fantastic, and we had superb views in every direction; back across towards the Dales, where we’d left Richmond, and north east towards Tees Side and the coast (which I’m sure I could spot, probably somewhere around Saltburn-on-Sea.)

On the way we saw a chap on crutches struggling manfully up to Cringle Moor summit. I don’t think he was attempting the Coast to Coast; more likely he was doing part of the Cleveland Way, which shares the C2C route for around twenty miles.

‘Fair Play to him,’ I thought to myself, as I elbowed him out of my path on the way past. ‘You don’t see that every day.’

You may have noticed that I haven’t recently made mention of our travelling companions Captain Beaky, Striding Man et al. That’s because we’ve either left them behind us, or ahead of us, I expect. Or maybe they’ve dropped out, as this stretch has been no laughing matter. Either way, we’ve been virtually alone on the walk since leaving Richmond.

We stopped for a spot of lunch after we’d descended from Hasty Bank, the last of the series of peaks facing north towards Tees Side.

After lunch it was what I can only describe as a gruelling (that’s a new adjective I haven’t used before. I’m beginning to run out of them) ten mile hike across Danby Moor and Glaisdale Moor to our hostelry for the evening; the Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge. On arrival I ordered a pint of Theakston’s  Black Lion Ale (my absolute favourite), which went down so smoothly, so easily, and so fast, that I managed to get another one in before Spike had completed the order. That’s how thirsty I was.

But what about the Lion Inn?

In my mind’s eye, I’d conjured up a vision of this pub as being rather Spartan, with stone floors and wooden bunk beds, a tin bath tub to bathe in, and a stone jug to rinse your hair with.

The reality is somewhat different. The Lion Inn is what’s known in the trade as a “destination pub,” and this one was certainly the destination for hundreds of people today, especially due to it being Father’s Day and brilliant weather. The place was packed, but we managed to get a table, however we were back to the standard pub grub once more – Cumberland Sausage, Fish & Chips, Lasagne (meat or veg), Steak and Ale Pie.

I found Chicken Kiev on the menu, so I ordered that, as I hadn’t had it since the early eighties. Lia had Lasagne and Spike and Emma had Fish & Chips.

I realise I haven’t mentioned Yellow Tee Shirt Man yet. We’ve met him on and off at almost every stopover.  YTS Man travels alone. He’s very friendly, but always turns up late. He’s not really built for the task in hand if you get my meaning, and seems to have problems map reading. As every day goes by, he seems to become more and more wounded and dilapidated.

Yellow Tee Shirt Man turned up at about 9pm, having apparently been wandering around the moors since leaving Osmotheprly about twelve hours earlier. We had a discussion about his increasingly troublesome feet, then retired to bed.

I really do hope he makes it all the way.

Tomorrow we’re off to Grosmont, a “mere” fourteen mile trek, where, if we’re early enough, I’ll get to play on the vintage steam trains.

One final note; I will NEVER, NEVER, walk forty five miles in two days, EVER AGAIN!!

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Blister count: Not funny any more

Consecutive Full English Breakfasts: 13 out of a possible 14