...nothing but footprints

"I hope you haven't got far to walk with this," the helpful guard commented as he helped me lift my rucksack off the train. "Oh, not really," I replied.  "Only 80 miles". I don't think he believed me.  At 21lbs my rucksack did feel very heavy, until, that is, I was wearing it, when it actually didn't feel too bad at all.  It was a little after 2.30 p.m. when we got off the train at Ilkley station and went in search of a toilet.  There hadn't been one on the train from Leeds and now, it seemed, there wasn't one at the station either.  At least if there was I couldn't find it.  I spotted a pub across the road and Tom and I dashed over.  Let's start as we mean to go on, I thought.  With a beer!  The bar was dimly lit and the only customers were a handful of men gathered around a large screen TV watching a football match. "Are you going for a walk?" the barmaid asked as we ordered a pint of Tetley's (definitely no

A year ago we walked the Yorkshire Wolds Way long distance path, from Hessle in East Yorkshire to the North Yorkshire seaside town of Filey.  It was a wonderful experience which left us with a longing to undertake another long distance walk at the earliest opportunity.  Although it was tempting to tackle a longer walk this time, such as the Cleveland Way (110 miles) or the Coast to Coast (192 miles), we decided to opt for a walk which could be fitted easily into one week and included plenty of beautiful scenery and pubs along the way.  This criteria made the choice very simple indeed. Opinions seem to vary as to the actual length of the Dales Way, which traditionally starts in the West Yorkshire town of Ilkley and follows the course of several rivers through the Yorkshire Dales, skirting around the Howgill Fells before heading through Cumbria to finish above Windermere and the popular tourist town of Bowness.  Of course, it can be walked in the opposite direction, but most people pref

Sometimes I have no clue where I would like to go for a walk.  As our favoured walking day is Sunday, I usually spend at least an hour on a Saturday evening pouring over my maps and browsing walking sites on the web, searching for inspiration.  But sometimes that inspiration just doesn't come.  This was the case one Sunday morning in April, when I got up to make breakfast without a single idea where we would be heading.  And then I discovered we were out of honey.  The decision was made!  We would go to Egton Bridge, on the northern edge of the North York Moors, because there, from a little cottage by the river, can be found the finest heather honey money can buy.  Over breakfast I plotted out a circular route from the centre of the village which would take us along the banks of the River Esk to the neighbouring village of Glaisdale, along the high moorland at Glaisdale Rigg and back over Egton High Moor. It was a lovely spring morning.  The sun was shining brightly and it was un