The last nights camping was at a lovely farm just beyond Ennerdale Bridge but due to knackered legs by this stage I decided to stop off for tea before completing the days walking. Since Cheryl and I visited Ennerdale last October one of the pubs has gone from traditional if slightly amateurish local serving coast to coasters to gastro pub. If anybody has read Al Murreys book of common sense they will know that gastro pubs in his opinion rate as highly as the french... on the evidence of my encounter I concur so I went to the Shepherd arms hotel where I had a right laugh with a Victoria Wood sound alike lady who was walking alone for a few days. She was highly impressed when I purchased a bottle of wine for the remainder of the evening.
Once esconced at the campsite I followed the nightly tradition of falling asleep with half my drink unfinished and the inner compartment of the tent open. I think this has been the result of the exerciase and the fresh air and of course nothing due to any earlier consumption. As usual I awoke a couple of hours later to shut inner door and discard the remnants.
The final day started gloriously with a distant view of the sea and the final packing up of the rucksack. I appreciate it is incredibly sad to get emotional over a jetboil and a tent but these had been my home for 14 days and you do get attached to them. That said the prospect of a night in a hotel with a bath was appealing both to me and those in my company!
The days weather was a classic mixture of sunshine and showers plus the return of the headwinds missing for the past week. After the last climb although the sea was just about visible the lakes had disappeared under low cloud. However as I got nearer the coast the weather improved and the mountains were once more visible. It is quite exhilerating to look back and see how high you climbed and how far I have travelled.
Lunch was planned for the Dog and Partridge at Sandwith but unfortunately the landlord only opens when he can be arsed and Saturday lunchtimes obviously would involve too much trade and effort so I had to make do with the remnants of the last nights wine.
While consuming said lunch I met three people walking in aid of a trust set up to commemorate the 12 military police killed in Iraq and we swapped sponsorship. While I was carrying 16kg they were carrying a dummy on a stretcher... each to their own.Approaching the coast I had a big lump in my throat and a tear in the eye as I thought how proud my sister would be. I miss her a lot but this walk has also been carthartic in remembering her, the times together and supporting the cause. And then it was a push down to the end. Gary time eventually caught up and I strolled down the slope to meet Cheryl and Gary & Helen,
engage in the traditional dipping of the boots in the sea and wang the pebble I had carried all the way from Robin Hoods Bay.
And so its done, 200 miles, lost a bit of weight, got a bit of a tan, sore knees and a bit of work for Norman the physio to do, met loads of lovely people and raised over £3000 for The Lavender Trust. It has been fantastic and something I shall never forget. It would not however have been possible without the support and understanding of the bride, she's been a star and I am lucky to have her.
Over the coming days I shall try and update the missing days and add further photo's. And just in case the flying dutchmen, the Belgian Brothers, Kevin the horse shoesman and John from Reading get to read this remember we were the hardcore walkers... forget the B&B's, the luggage carriers etc, hardcore C2C 'ers carry the lot!
