Category: End to Ends

Another day of horrible weather: driving rain, headwinds, and no scenery to speak of, or see. So bad, in fact, that I took no photos all day, as my camera wasn’t rated for underwater use. I felt angry, cold, and very wet. Breakfast was a Selkirk Bannock, a ‘rich and buttery leavened tea bread’, ie…

There are few better things in life than to wake refreshed after a fine night’s sleep in comfy bed. As I now knew to my cost, having dozed fitfully on a lumpy sofa for three hours after a skinful of cheap red wine. I was elevated a little by yesterday’s Craster kippers for breakfast, tangy,…

An action-packed day in Northumbria, more eventful than the mileage suggests. I passed Warkworth’s imposing castle (pic), one of many on this rugged coast. Most date from the 14th to the 16th centuries, a time of border wars, when Berwick was perhaps a bit more desirable a possession than nowadays. This is an underrated, monumentally…

Groggy from another cooked breakfast of questionable local provenance, I headed for Stanley. I eventually found the Durham to Stanley railway path, and made good progress, listening to Mozart’s late symphonies on my barbag disco. Then I realised the path was actually going to another, different, wrong, Stanley. Well, here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten…

A bumper hostel breakfast, all ingredients local. Except for the grapefruit, cereal, butter, toast, jam and milk. The water was regionally sourced though. And the tea was Taylor’s Yorkshire – grown, presumably, on the the lofty tea plantations of Dalby Forest. The road north from Helmsley took me up and up into the clouds, past…

I grew up here in Ferriby, and it was a small world. We occasionally went to Hull to the pictures, but we’d only been to York once. One sunny Whitsun bank hol circa 1968, we all drove up to see a butcher’s shop dad was thinking of buying. It was an expedition. Mum packed the…

A rest day, at my parents’ house, somewhere round the halfway point of the trip. I went for a morning swim with my dad, and felt stiffer after twenty minutes in the pool than I have after ten days of cycling. Next time I’m at an interview for a job I won’t get, I’ll know…

A short day, ending with a trip over the Humber Bridge to my parents’ place in the village of North Ferriby, where I grew up. I explored Lincoln in the morning (pic), hunting and gathering local specialities for later picnic purposes. There were plenty of regionally-sourced items on offer – Lincolnshire sausages; Lincolnshire haslet; Lincolnshire…

It may have been Friday the 13th, but it was the best day of the trip so far: half-decent weather, which is 50% more decency than hitherto, and some world-beating local food and drink experiences. Especially the drink. I enjoyed my best traditional English Breakfast so far – the kitchen staff clearly knew their onions,…

I cycled round Stow’s handsome square, watching the town come to life, and hoping the miserable landlord of the pub next door had had an awful night’s sleep. I carried on heading northeast towards Lincoln, parallel to the Fosse Way/A429, along a great little back road (pic) that gave me splendid, elevated views of the…