Thank you!

Now that the walk is over I'd like to thank you, the reader, for your many supporting emails and text. At the last count they totaled 2 ( including that text from my mum reminding me that I owed her 34 euro for the window cleaning man). Your support was very much appreciated and without it I wouldn't have been able to pull through. And the final word must go to my walking partner, Vic. 

Vic, I'm sorry about reading your personal journal; that was very wrong of me. No excuses. And be assured your fantasies about sleeping with a half woman, half beast  will remain private. I'd implore you to make contact with me again. I enclose one last photo for old times sake. I drank both of the pints below in your absence ( and with a heavy heart). 

Done (tbtf)

Yorkshire Dales National Park

Day 8: to Reeth (12 miles, 130m, 5.5 hrs, 3, 9)

Day 9: to Richmond (10 miles, 335m, 4 hrs, 4,8)

Day 10: to Danbe Wiske (14 miles, 70m, 6.5 hrs) 

North York Moors National Park

Day 11: to Clay Bank top (20 miles, 840m, 8.5hrs) 

Day 12: to Glaisdale (17 miles, 310m, 8 hrs)

Day 13: to Robin Hoods Bay (18 miles, 500m, 9 hrs)

From the worst photoprapher ever, I actually got the bus across and met yer man there. 

And then there was one.....

Vic and myself have 'mutually' decided to part company for the last day's walking and into the future. At dinner last night he declared that he was 'done with me' and that I can go 'fxxx myself'. And that I was 'unworthy of his friendship' especially as I did not know the meaning of the word "bucolic" and that I was "no better than an Neanderthal". My argument was that in their day the neands were great but that their time had passed. And that he had taken their place, along with the other indolents from North America. I was just joking.

Anyway, it all happened rather quickly. I took the opportunity of his rejection to cancel his room in Robin Hood's Bay. I told the hotel that he was being treated for 'delusions'. The woman said no worries and that it was quite common in these parts after the walk.  So it looks like we won't be getting the perfunctory closing photo. The one below will have to do. You never know what is inside someone's head.  Vic is an angry man I guess...

Bucolic versus bubonic

In fairness to Vic he taught me a new word. 'Bucolic' which an ideal countryside environment many people yearn for. 

When he asked me to put it in a sentence I suggested the folowing:

"Following a period of life in a bucolic village the rats got bored and the resulting bubonic plague killed 25 million people in 1347". I firmly believe, as indeed do many distinguished scholar, that something got lost or switched in translation. 

Perhaps it's me.....

But does this key ring look a tad large versus the key size. I think I'll say it to Steve ( the proprietor of The White Swan) for his take on it. It just about fits in my rucksack. I stole it just to annoy him and for overcharging us by around £100, bastard. 

A beer garden with a view of Richmond castle

We feel the pub is stretching this slightly.....the Bishops Blaize would have been a better choice but Vic seemed insistent. 

All creatures great and small

We are walking through James Herriot country at the moment. It brings me back to my childhood TV of watching James with his arm half way up some cow in most episodes. 

Not to mention the antics of young Mr. Tristan and Sigfried (played by the great Robert Hardy) and James' wife ( "oh, I do love you James"). If you recall she spent her time cooking in the kitchen. She (Carol Drinkwater) went on to write a really successful book about olive farming in the south of  France. 

It was a nice show but would I want to live in the Yorkshire Dales? They were actually showing the original movie in Reeth where Anthony Hopkins played Sugfried but the timing didn't suit.