Hi, everyone,
Okay, I’ll admit it up front: the title of this post is perhaps the closest I’ll ever get to yellow journalism. That being said, it is, by certain definitions, completely true.
You see, a number of years ago, my family and I were on holiday in England and we stumbled upon a small coastal town called Robin Hood’s Bay. While we were exploring, my mom noticed an ice cream shop that was selling Choc 99s. For those of you who have not spent much time eating ice cream in British or formerly British settings, Choc 99s are soft serve ice cream cones with a Cadbury’s Flake. For my family at least, they are both nostalgic and delicious. So when a chance to get one arose, we all leapt at it. Imagine our collective disappointment when we learned that the shop had closed.
Soon after this tragedy, we ran into a few people who seemed to be waiting for something to happen or somebody to arrive. As you may know, the Jacksons are a curious breed, so we asked them what they were up to. It turned out that they were waiting for friends who were about to complete a long cross-country walk called the Coast to Coast. It began on the west coast of England and ended in Robin Hood’s Bay, in the east. We stored that information away in some recess of our brains, and enjoyed the rest of our holiday.
Several years later, when my mom and I were brainstorming about how we could celebrate our 30th and 60th birthdays which were to occur within a month of each other, the idea of the Coast to Coast resurfaced. I had done several week-long hikes before and was eager to try one in country I knew was so beautiful. Besides, we had to go back to Robin Hood’s Bay to get our Choc 99.
Now, in the States, if you wander around in the woods for a few hours, that’s a “hike.” Not so in Britain. It turns out that even when you walk over 200 miles over 16 days, sometimes for over 10 hours at a time, through three national parks, in weather clement and otherwise, ascending and descending the cumulative height of Everest, it’s a “walk.” Gotta love British understatement.
It was quite the walk. As you can imagine, we met some incredible people. As you can imagine, we had a lot of good talks and laughs. As you can imagine, we went through some absolutely gorgeous scenery. I was able to capture a little of it:
However, what’s harder to capture than the physical ups and down are the emotional ups and downs of a trek like this. Even in normal life, we experience such a range of emotions over the course of a fortnight, but they can become a bit more intense in a setting like this. So instead of presenting a barrage of photos here (don’t worry: they will come on Facebook later, once I’ve sorted through them all!), I present to you this photojournalistic essay, if you will, recreated in my bathroom in Spokane several weeks after the hike. My hope is that this will convey a bit of what it felt like to be hiking across England for a few weeks.
Day 1: Excited
The adventure begins!
Day 2: Awestruck
This place is stunningly beautiful!
Day 3: Overwhelmed
I’m clinging to a mossy mountain in the wind and rain because the path
we’re supposed to be on has turned into a waterfall in the downpour.
Day 4: Content
An easier day when we could relax and enjoy the scenery.
Day 5: Exhausted
Our longest day so far and so, so hot!
Day 6: Worried
My knees are really giving me grief. I hope I’m not doing permanent damage. I also hope I don’t have to be airlifted out of here.
Day 7: Incredulous
There is a flock of parrots in the town where we’re staying and they
roam the town by day and return to their owner by night. What?!
Day 8: Nervous
The road we’re taking to our B & B is so steep and uneven that the
driver of the Jeep has to stay in the vehicle so that it doesn’t tip over.
[NB: Certain villages were so remote that there weren’t any
or enough lodgings. Once you arrived in town, the owner of the B & B
where you were staying came to get you.]
Day 9: Embarrassed
I walked into the wrong building when trying to come back to the B & B
after supper. The man in the living room kept saying, “It’s my house!
It’s my house!” but I was distracted by how the hallway looked
so different from when we’d left.
Day 10: Asleep
We arrive in Richmond, where we are going to spend our rest day.
I promptly have my first nap of the trip.
Day 11: Fascinated
On our rest day, we learn about local history at various museums,
including an exhibit about the Kearton brothers, pioneering wildlife
photographers who used unorthodox techniques to get good shots,
including using taxidermied animals as hides.
Day 12: Confused
Where did the path go?
Day 13: Beleaguered
Relentless rain.
Day 14: Pooped
So many hills!
Day 15: Thrilled
Our B & B host gave us an alternative to the traditional English breakfast: a cheese board with over a dozen English cheeses!
Day 16: Triumphant
We made it!
I will likely write more about the trip in upcoming posts, but for now, one final photo from the actual hike does need to be shared:
We did get our Choc 99, although this was several days before the end. Our last day was 22 miles, so by the time we arrived in Robin Hood’s Bay, sure enough, the shop was closed.
I guess we’ll have to go back.
Have a great week,
Sarah/Mouse
