Walking (and riding) Coast to Coast

Dan and I have done many biking trips -- see posts from past years -- and this was our first walking trip, with an extremely well-organized Stanford Alumni Association group and a wonderful tour provider. The locale was the UK Coast to Coast Walk in northern England, a path that is very well known to serious walkers. Taking only a week, our group's route was far less than the roughly 180-mile ~standard walk; we covered around 60-70 miles total, depending on whose GPS, pedometer, iPhone app, or Fitbit was consulted. We had luxurious bus transportation when not walking, and we walked in some territory that's not on the standard route as well. (I don't think Grasmere, the one-time home of William Wordsworth, is on the trail, but we were there.)  I'd call the trip A Variation On The UK Coast to Coast Walk myself, to avoid criricism from purists.

There were 30 people in the group, about twice the size of our previous trips, but everyone was punctual and pleasant, and none of our worries about endless delays came true. Almost everyone had been on a Stanford trip before, and gave them very high marks -- well deserved this time also. Most of the group came from the Bay Area, including two women who live about two blocks from us on Dolores. 

I don't know the definition of "hike," but I think it's a better word than "walk" for much of our on-foot travel during the week. Some parts were boggy, we had one descent on loose rocks, and some trails just went straight up -- but it was all manageable, with the help of our trusty hiking sticks on occasion.

Like most people, we walked from west to east, starting on Monday the 22nd at St. Bee's Head, on the coast of the Irish Sea:

and we ended on Saturday the 27th at Robin Hood's Bay, on the coast of the North Sea:

It's traditional to dip one's boots into the water in both seas, so here are mine at St. Beè's:

The photo at Robin Hod's Bay looks the same.

Along the way, we saw many sheep, a few cows, more sheep, fewer horses, more sheep, and no pigs. 

The route goes through some private land, and in some cases right past people's homes. Though we saw no vegetable gardens, there were many flower gardens, some of them spectacular. The wildflowers were also beautiful. On one afternoon, we must have crossed about fifteen meadows, bounded by stone walls with very skinny gates.

We were lucky with the weather; though it was often windy, we had very little rain or bad fog. Every day included various scenic turnout points, ranging from rocky riverbanks to spectacular vistas.

I have lots more, but it can become a chant of grass, sheep, stone, and yet another fine view. So instead, here are a few signs that I liked:

Now I'm not sure who is being directed or informed by this:

and finally, a road sign for a town I may not want to live in:

 

London day 7: Globe and Tate Modern

Saturday the 20th

Today's goal was just across the Thames, to visit the (reconstructed) Globe Theatre and the Tate Modern museum.  Emerging from the tube, before crossing the Millenium Bridge, we first encountered a demonstration against David Cameron and against cuts in government funding . . . the dreaded austerity.

After aligning ourselves with neither the Socialists nor the NUT (National Union of Teachers) we crossed the bridge and toured the Globe:

It's not quite on the site of Shakespeare's original, whose exact dimensions and detailed design are not known, but it was certainly as we liked it and all was well that ended well. (Lame.) We knew that the groundlings stood in front of the stage, and we learned that they were also called stinkards.

Actors were rehearsing "Measure For Measure," specifically a dance that ends the performance:

That was fun, and definitely a requirement for Ashland devotees.

Right next door is the Tate Modern museum, one of London's wonderful free attractions. Though we aren't modern art cognoscenti, just being in the building itself is pretty stunning. It's a former power station, with some of its old industrial accoutrements visible. The scale of the entry hall makes one feel pretty small:

And there are four or five floors of exhibits beside and above that. Here are a couple of pieces I liked:

and finally, the view from the pricey restaurant at the top. Construction cranes are everywhere in London!

London day 6: shopping

Friday

Did you know that there are huge crowds of people in London? Many of them were on the streets and in the stores with us as we enjoyed The Shopping Experience today. First, Piccadilly Circus and Eros:

and high on the corner of a nearby building, some lovely golden divers:

Regent Street has a lot of old traditional stores, and some are clearly trying to keep up with the times. At Austin Reed, one display window had mannequins in business suits on surfboards, with their ties and jackets flying in the imaginary sea breeze. Even better were these casually-dressed one-percenters on a vehicle I've heard about but can't even name:

We continued to Hamley's, an almost manic toy store, with kiddie music playing everywhere and many young staffers in red tshirts demonstrating the toys:

Down the hallway marked "Toilets -- best seats in the house," Dan found what may be a unique loo:

Ending the sensory assault, we returned to the street and went to Liberty, which is much more than the fabric store that I somehow had in my mind (Jane Austen's Britex). In the Scarf Room, I could have bought a beautiful heavy Italian silk scarf at half price, only 79 pounds. Using a simple 1.5 multiple for the conversion to dollars, I decided not to. But the room is wonderful . . .

and the top of that Mayday pole is just as lovely:

After leaving Liberty, we turned onto Oxford Street and continued past Selfridge's, which occupies the entire block and announces itself pretty seriously:

then we continued toward Harrods, also impressive from the street, even from blocks away:

Would Madame like to purchase a handbag? The faux Egyptian surroundings provide just the ambience of luxury that might encourage her:

And if that's simply de trop, perhaps the tea and coffee room is more to your plebeian tastes:

We visited other departments, feeling a bit sorry for the well-dressed salespeople who have to be polite to casual tourists. But we achieved our (well, my) goal of Having An Experience, and went home for another good meal at a local pub.

London day 5: British Museum, National Portrait Gallery, theatre

Thursday

We set out late in the morning for a shorter day, looking ahead to the theatre in the evening. (When in Rome, spell like a Roman.) The two goals were the British Museum and the National Portrait Galłery. The weather was again beautiful, so,after taking the Overground and tube to central London, we walked everywhere else until going home at night.

Along the way we saw the usual cheery pub signs: 

 

And a clear indication of James Smith & Sons' business:

We also saw a dramatic illustration of (presumably) conservation of historic façades. Here are two adjacent "buildings" with nothing but front:

And then to the British Museum, which as I noted last year is an inexhaustible source of wonder. You really have to choose a topic and go there; you are doomed if you try to "just walk through." Having been fascinated by the Early Britain exhibits before, we went back. My focus for you is amazing little things that demonstrate the incredible craftsmanship of people in France, England, and Scandinavia many hundreds of years ago. Zoom these photos to see the detail!

First, an adornment at the top of a flagon used at feasts in Celtic Lorraine:

And gold rings from England around 300AD:

Those who read last year's oohing and aahing about Sutton Hoo (burial site of an Anglo-Saxon king,  early 600s AD) will not be surprised at these belt buckles, shoulder clasps, and purse cover:

And next, 600 years later, we have a Viking comb and two cases. There are runes on the lower case that reportedly say "Thorfastr made a good comb." (I wish I were funny enough to make this stuff up.)

After leaving the Museum, we made a short visit to the National Portrait Gallery, which is really interesting especially if you recently read Wolf Hall or know anything about English kings from any other source. (There are lots and lots of other portraits to see. Though I love "our dear Audrey" as Elizabeth Taylor called Ms. Hepburn, we skipped the exhibits on her and on Paul McCartney.) I didn't take any photos because those portraits are humungously huge and It seemed useless.

Then we happened on a nice surprise. We went into the church of St. Martin in the Fields for a look, and found a string quartet rehearsing for a concert later in the evening. The music and the setting were very pleasant!

After dinner at the aforepictured Porcupine, our last event was to see a play at the Gielgud Theatre:

This is the only time we've seen a Tony award-winning play within days of the announcement. OK, it won in New York, but it's the same play: "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time." (Negatives first: people are allowed to eat and drink in the theater, and late-comers are seated after the performance begins. We are totally spoiled by Ashland, where NOBODY EVER climbs over you when the house lights are down!) Huge positives: the set and staging were amazing, and the acting was great. Now I need to read the book to see more about how the geeky math fits in.

We walked down Regent Street after dark, passing a zillion high-end stores and fancy buildings. A subject for another day.

London day 4: Keyhaven

Wednesday

We took a day trip on the train to visit the home of our HomeExchange hosts Jane and Ben, who keep their London apartment for their occasional use and exchanges with people like us. Ben's family has lived for at least three generations in a little town near Southampton, on the coast, where he sails a lot.

We took the 9am train from Waterloo, and wow what floods of people flow through there at rush hour. (It's a real reminder that London's population is more than 10 times San Francisco's.) Jane met us at Lymington, a town with a bit of Carmel touristism but a lot of its old charm, and drove us about five miles to their house at Keyhaven, where Ben keeps a very nice garden.

Their excellent plan was, after lunch at his sailing club, to walk out on a long long spit to Hurst Castle. (Yeah yeah, definitely not Hearst Castle.) Though the harbor at Keyhaven has many boats, the buildings and roads are small and pleasant; it feels traditional and self-confident without any sense of snobbishness. Still, there are rules:

 We were appropriately careful at the gate, beyond which is but a small boat launch ramp:

The spit is a natural and constantly-changing sandbar covered with weathered rocks of around three to five inches, mostly white to tan. It's maybe a mile long, with The Solent (an entrance to Portsmouth harbor) to the south, and the Isle of Wight less than five miles away, easily visible. This is the view back toward Keyhaven, with boats moored between the spit and the land:

And here's a view of the Isle of Wight and Fort Albert (which from here resembles Fort Point, but who knows really):

At the end of the spit we find Hurst Castle, built by Henry VIII when he guessed that England might be attacked by Catholics who were outraged by his split with the Church. 

The Castle was a defensive fortification during the Napoleonic Wars and both World Wars, and volunteers have worked to create and maintain small exhibits including mementos like Ben's grandfather's WWI letters and kit:

We climbed the ramparts and descended into the storage areas for the gunpowder and shells, with our personal audioguide (Ben) telling us about how he rambled around as a kid. (It had a lot of Alcatraz flavor, with all the rock and the sea and the guns.) Here's a 19th-century gun:

and here's a mockup of a WWII radioman who has just identified German planes headed for bombing runs over London:

The biggest cannons in the place were designed for warfare against ironclads. Here are Dan, Jane, and Ben around one such gun, with a slab of ironcladding, pierced, behind them:

We returned to London late in the day, and I'll end with an illustration of wonderful British humor from the train: