Tuesday, 10 July 2012

Day 18 begins


 8/7/2012
Day 18 begins



I was woken by the sound of voices quite close and was soon up and ready to leave the comfy spot that had leaked only slightly into my tent. The rains had been light and the condensation was more the problem than other things I feared. I really should stop breathing whilst asleep.....

I soon found the reason for the noises as a few girls on horseback trotted past the tent on the footpath. They too were surprised by a tent and me packing up. The shelter of the old battlements were as advertised, good, and had kept the main winds from attacking me in the night.



The day was fresh and air bracing as I sped off along the beach line towards Bridlington. I had had a brief bite to eat, but I don't totally enjoy cold sausage roll. The fields again were wet and my kit was soon getting battered with the long grasses and barley. I nearly died when I saw how close to the edge of the cliff I was whilst following one particular line. The corn disappeared at the very edge of the cliff, so it must have been a fresh slip as a tractor would have ploughed here a few months ago at the very least. Phew, the land was literally disappearing into the sea.



I came along to a campsite that heralded a spectacular array of features and services for the camping public of Great Britain. Barmston Beach was a park with a bar restaurants and a club house to rival most well populated seaside resorts and here it was on a cliff edge threatening to disappear in a few years time if not sooner. I decided that a mini breakfast was in the order of the day. They said that they had stopped serving breakfasts, but the young man, disappeared to ask if they could rustle something up for me. Tea and a mini breakfast soon arrived, thanks to the great kindness of the kitchen staff who probably had other important things to do. I was very pleased by their attentiveness and soon got into conversation with Andrew and the others about my walk and topics in relation to their trade and other interesting things. I watched rapt at the way they folded knives and forks into neat packages with a napkin. (Simple things please simple minds don't you know?)(Mine that is)



Andrew drew my name in some kind of tribal writing and I was flattered by their attentions. They were very chatty people despite having lots to do running a busy camp. Thank you to all at Barmston Beach Holiday Camp.
The only option was to walk on the beach now, but it was firmer than I had imagined after so much rain. The birds were swooping everywhere and I saw so much going on along the cliffs above what with all the recent damage caused by landslip. The poor birds possibly had to rehouse here often. They would go out in the morning and by tea time their houses could be under the sea.

I met and spoke to a couple out walking, Trisha and Michael from Scarborough who had been looking for a different place to explore today. They asked me initially where they were headed to, assuming I was from around these parts. I gave them a brief idea based solely on my recent knowledge of the area, but we talked about many walks, as they too were keen hikers. It seems they also were bird watchers, I heard names and things I had never before heard in my life. It did tell me that I should be paying a bit more closer attention to the scenery and wildlife around me as I walked. 




The beach seemed to go on forever, but I eventually arrived at the beach volleyball competition Trisha had told me about earlier. I sat up on the cliff top watching the goings on for a while as I ate my lunch. There was a serious competition going on here, and many teams competing, I was fascinated for an hour. 




 
Then Bridlington in all her seaside town glory came into view and I spotted chip shop upon chip shop, and even more chip shops along the streets and seafront. I also noticed some attempt at modern art or something, and the whole area was kind of like a decking patio paradise. It did have a bit of a feel as a seaside port, the harbour full of boats but deserted of water, some nets hanging to dry around the docks. 




It had more rock shops than Skeggy I swear, but in a way was far more up market than the Lincolnshire holiday haven counterpart. Maybe because it was cold here, but I saw no flip flops or Bermuda shorts, or fat bellies hanging out of badly fitting clothing.








I asked around town but nobody seemed to know exactly what the internet was or where I could buy it. I jest.... really, but few people had any idea where to find it outside their homes. I eventually got a lead that took me to Whetherspoons and the Cloud. I should have known, they are a very progressive company in most big towns and cities. I made good use of the facilities and stretched my welcome to the limit on my one drink, using the internet to get almost up to date with writing and my blog. I hope you at home realise how I suffered for your entertainment, aww the stress of it....

I was quite hungry now and somehow all the rows of chips shops had closed just to P... me off I guess as I really fancied fish and chips now. My timing is rubbish sometimes, and I had written right through the trading hours and into the early evening. I did eventually find one shop open on my way out of town, no significant meeting having taken place. I realise that here in a seaside town, that everyone is a stranger, so my appearance was not so obviously noted as in a small village inland. The chips were not what I had hoped the fish though recently cooked had gotten cold quickly and I had only walked for two minutes to sit by the seafront promenade. I won't be recommending this shop to anyone, sorry.... and please boys, work on your people skills too, I was not the first customer with a complaint, I overheard.


I set off to walk along to the headland and a home for the night. I walked along the beach head, which I now affectionately call memory mile. There was literally a mile or more of benches set facing out to sea every few metres along the top of the cliff. In a way it was a sad sight, many people had died to earn such devoted tributes. I was in tears by the time I got to about bench thirty. So much love had been shared to create these memorials to their loved ones who had sadly departed this life. Moving tributes that helped me to write a poem or two, as I sat contemplating life and all its weird mysterious ways. Emotions flooded out as I saw the real passion of so many who had loved the departed.

I met a guy called Phil, who like myself was out for a walk, though his was to get a breath of air, mine quite obviously more of a long term effort to exercise. We had a very nice chat he applauded my efforts to raise money for charity and try to help change the world. He said that he would also help as he could, so I await the responses to come. It is refreshing to see that few people actually think (or at least don't say such) that I am crazy in my efforts to bring about a shift in how we all see the places in which we live and the world in general and the people of our Great nations. Phil wished me well, taking note of my details, and said he would be in touch soon. Thank you Phil for your encouragements.

I saw away in the distance a nice spot to set my tent, but it was still some way away and involved a huge set of steep steps down and then back up into the forest before I eventually arrived there. It had been worth all the sweat and pain, the view overlooking Bridlington was spectacular and I bet few people had such a great view for their last minutes of the day. 



I wondered why I was the only one here, but in some ways pleased to have the place to myself. I don't mind sharing of course, but please bring along some wine and nibbles for the experience. I had a piece of chocolate and smiled. Life was very good.

The top of the headland was my setting as the sun went down, I couldn't imaging what could spoil this, except hammering rain. Far away the universal mechanics were conspiring to answer my prayers and I knew they would be answered. Light almost gone, I settled down in my sleeping bag and was sated by my view for the moment. My eyes kept closing, so I pulled the flap down and secured the tent for my well earned dreams.

And so day 18 closes peacefully.

1 comment:

  1. Wot ? No chips? Name Names and shame!
    Sounds like paradise, with the view an all! x

    ReplyDelete