Coast to Coast: Richmond to St Bees, 100 miles, Monday 7th June (by minibus)

I forgot to mention yesterday, that we had a pint in the pub we’ll be staying in, when we return to to Richmond in ten day’s time.

It would appear that The Buck (for that is the name of our lodgings) is gearing itself up to be THE premier venue in Richmond for watching World Cup football over the next few weeks. Not just one, but two, fifty inch LCD TVs have been installed in the bar area. When we arrived, Death Metal music was pumping out of the sound system at full volume. A couple of youths were playing pool in the otherwise deserted bar.

I just kind of know where our bedroom will be situated.

Will it be over the snug, where the old Yorkshire men quietly reminisce about the good old days, when Black Sheep was a penny a pint, and everything was the colour of sepia?

Or will it be over the bar, where I will lie on my bed, wide awake, at three in the morning, watching the plaster drift lazily down from the ceiling, listening to the endless beat of “Brutal Truth,” “Napalm Death” and “Pig Destroyer?”

We shall see…

Anyway, back to today. We dropped the cars off at the “secure parking”, which turned out to be an abandoned gypsy caravan site a couple of miles outside Richmond. I wondered briefly how many thousands of additional miles would be on the clock when I returned, or whether I’d even see the car again, before joining Lia, Sally and Amanda in the mini bus.

The journey to St Bees was spent mostly in silence, as we pondered the fact that after travelling the hundred or so miles to St Bees, we’d be simply turning around and walking back.

We arrived at 10am, and after dropping our bags off at Stonehouse Farm (our lodgings for tonight), we wondered how to spend the rest of the day – Spike and Emma not being due to arrive until 6:45 pm.

Given the size of the St Bees, this might have posed a problem but for the fact that there were several pubs dispensing Jennings’ ales, my favourite bitter.

But first off was a stroll to St Bees Head itself, the starting point of our walk across England.

A beach, a deserted hotel and a tiny beach cafe/gift shop were the only sources of entertainment. I searched the shop in vain for an “At least I made it to the start of the Coast to Coast Walk” fridge magnet, so instead we had a coffee and chatted amiably for a couple of hours. Later, we dropped by the local post office/gift shop, in search of more souvenirs. After about an hour browsing the postcards, we decided to leave, as we were beginning to look decidedly suspicious.

Then it was off to the Queen’s Head for lunch and a few Jennings’.

All this excitement warranted a well deserved lie down, so we retired back to the guest house for a couple of hours.

Spike & Emma finally turned up on the six forty five pm train, late as usual, and we adjourned back to the Queen’s Head for a few more Jennings.

Tomorrow, at last, we begin the walk!

Blister count: 0                                                                      Consecutive Full English Breakfasts: 1                              Arguments: 0

PS I’m pleased to report that Spike has treated himself to a set of expensive, rugged, breathable etc etc T-shirts especially for this holiday. Sadly he’s left them all at home.

It’s not just me, then.