2012 10 08 Monday

Walney to Whitby Day 0

Getting to Barrow in Furness

"I just rode 33.8 kilometers! Check it out on Strava: http://app.strava.com/activities/24368043" Now, I need to tell you Strava wrote that not me! but I thought you might like to share this morning's ride.

It's the most beautiful day here, sunny and dry, a perfect autumnal day. I've arrived at Preston station travelling solo to catch the train up to Barrow in Furness. Michael and Steven are driving up in Michael's car later this afternoon with Judith and Margaret. Brian and Dave separately with Brian's wife Jill. I was always making the trip under my own steam but originally planned to do it with Chrissie. By mistake I diarised Monday 8th October as the start date for the ride. But this is one of those rides where we stay over the night before so Sunday was safeguarded for the trip up. Turns out it should have been Monday for Tuesday not Sunday for Monday. Now Chrissie has other bookings so I'm making my own way to the start. 

It's comfortingly warm sitting on the platform with my beef sandwiches and a coffee writing, such a contrast to last week when I tipped over 3 inches of rain out of the gauge at home. My train leaves at 14:04 so I'll chill out here until it arrives playing with my new phone. For example, did you know, according to Strava, cycling over here I'm supposed to have burned 550 calories! . . .  .   .   . 

The morning started well. I woke on time and had time to spare. It was a misty start but that augured well for a fine day as forecast. I was away in very good time. Cycling to Preston station from Read shouldn't take more than two hours but with massive potential for a puncture from the Council's hedge cutting plus my desire to be in good time I left myself four hours for the 20 miles trip. It was worth it. No pressure. The opportunity to stop and take a photo of my beloved Pendle without recrimination. The opportunity to explore the cycleway into Preston (well, nearly into Preston) without angst because of the impediment to progress from all the anti-motorbike gateways and a final dead end that even the beer swigging alcoholic found ridiculous. And the beauty of having the time to soak up the exceptional weather. What joy! And time too for sandwiches and coffee on the sun soaked platform.

When the TransPennine Express train arrived they broke it in half and we, the Barrow lot, got the back bit, and very luxurious it was too. The journey took us through Lancaster then Carnforth, the home of Brief Encounter, that soppy, oops I mean romantic war-time drama starring Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson. Time for a romantic email methinks! At this point the train leaves the West Coast main line to skirt the Lake District and Morecambe Bay. As you can imagine, the scenery here is Britain at its best but in the sunshine today it was unbeatable.

                                         Eric Morecambe hide on Morecambe Bay

Passing the Morecambe Bay flashes, now nurtured for bird watching south of Leighton Moss, crossing the notorious sinking sands of the Kent estuary at Arnside with the silvery sun shimmering on the sand and sea, trundling through pensioners' paradise at Grange over Sands then Stan Laurel's Ulverston we finally arrived at world's end, Barrow in Furness, home to BAe's Trident Submarine. This is a railway line I shall return to. There is the sheer natural beauty but also a palpable pride of place such as in the stations, all with attractively painted wrought ironwork.

These journeys are often made by the people we meet. Today it was a young mum with her six month old Cohen. Yes, he'll be the only one in his class with that name. It came from a tv programme apparently as did our Anna's from a 1977 production of Anna Karenina. Cohen was a delight. It was his first train trip and he “chatted” all the way home.

At the station three schoolboys peered over the fence at me photographing the train. "You like trains" one said. "You're not from round here" said another. "From Millom" said the third, as if it was round the other side of the world rather than 10 miles up the road. Yes, Barrow is at the end of the world, “at the end of the longest cul-de-sac in the world” as the adage goes.

I pootled up the road to the by-pass industrial estate to find the Travelodge. Not in the slightest bit solubrious. Booked in, had a sugar-loaded brew, debagged the bike and set off to reconnoitre Walney Island, even more remote than downtown Barrow. The views from the bike were in total contrast: the natural beauty of the channel between Barrow and Walney with the backcloth of the Lake District fells on the right and the mass of "sheds" as they are known in the property world on the left overshadowed by the biggest shed of all, the BAe submarine yard formerly known as Vickers.

The island is now connected to Barrow by a bridge but the less than sparkling Ferry Inn close by suggests that wasn't always the case. The island is a combination of shingle beaches, nature reserve, caravan park, "airport" and workers village called Vickerstown. The original village core is a Conservation Area. It has the essence of a model village, that's to say an ideal settlement created by an idealist industrialist like Titus Salt's Saltaire and Lord Leverhulme's Port Sunlight and Cadbury's Bourneville . and . . .there are so many. Sadly, through private ownership and a lack of appreciation of the inherent quality and style of the houses there are only a few remaining in tact but what art nouveau treasures they are. Discoveries like this are the manna that continues to make life a joy.

Over on the west coast is the Irish Sea and, though you'd hardly know it, the start of the W2W. Now found I could return to base but would do it via the coastal path and the tiny village of Biggar, there's a contradiction, where the beer is three pints for £5. I'll be back! Back at the hote . . Travelodge, as I pulled up Janet was dropping off Dave, and Brian and Jill were unloading. All good and the Ormonds and Finns arrived soon after.

We were changed and off on foot by 19:00 into "downtown" Barrow to eat at Paulo Gianni's, a restaurant that came with an online recommendation and, it was quite OK. The all Monday "happy hour" was a novelty as were the “invisible” black serviettes on black marble tables. Right, a balmy walk back and negotiations done for an early departure we were off to bed. Only time will tell if Dave's missing seat post bolt expedition and Asda's breakfast will interfere with the best laid plans of Mike and men.