Ta-Daaah!

       We did it! We walked across England!  

       We traipsed into Robin Hoods Bay mid-afternoon, signed the Coast to Coast log of finishers that is kept in the pub on the waterfront and checked it for the names of friends who finished earlier. The tide was waaaaay out, so I dropped my rock from the Irish Sea, that travelled all the way across England nestled in my backpack, into a deep tidal pool, kerplunk!  And we had a celebratory dinner with walking friends, including two indomitable ladies who were celebrating a 70th birthday and a warm hearted guy from The Other Washington, the one in the top left corner of the map. We closed the restaurant down, but the staff was very understanding about it. 

        












The last day was 15+ miles over more moorland, more lovely woodland, and just to make the thing symmetrical, ends as it began, with a walk along the cliffs over the sea. 

       

         Robin Hoods Bay is a cute little town but walkers don't own it. We finished on Saturday and the town is lively with tourists and day trippers and families eating take-away fish and chips on the beach. Walkers are a like secret society passing amongst the holidayers. 

       Our B&B is ten steps from the water front with narrow, winding hallways and claustrophia inducing, low ceilings.  The story is that the warren of cottages and old buildings at the waterfront were once linked by secret tunnels and hidden attic passageways to facilitate a thriving trade in smuggled goods. Over the last few centuries  the cliffs have crumbled, dropping  200 of these houses into the sea but now the town resides behind massive concrete sea walls buttressing the cliffs 

        We were very lucky in our walk. We finished with no physical complaints, but stories to tell. The stories are probably of interest only to other walkers, but we relish them. And we have fond memories of friendly, fascinating people, those who live along the trail and those others who like us, were only passing through.