On the Way to Stornoway

I sleep well in the little room I have to myself. I am a bit surprised to have no blisters after walking so far in wet boots yesterday. But I am really tired. I can tell that the effort took it out of me. No breakfast here so I put on my still damp boots and, after a cup of tea, set off via the co-op to buy something to get me going.
     It starts to rain as I set off again and I take shelter in the quaint little market square thingy (I am almost sure that that is the correct technical architectural term) and put on my overtrousers. For once this turns out to be the right decision.

There is no gear shop in Dufton. Actually, there is no shop in Dufton. There is a pub which is not serving food the night I arrive because of a bereavement. But I got an adequate enough meal in the hostel. I had to share a small room with two very tall cylcists. But I have had a decent sleep and the sight of a red squirrel in the garden cheers me up. I spot another one as I set off. It is another grey and overcast day and it is raining gently as I set off through the village.

Too much wine last night. Not masses too much, just that extra glass that makes you feel a bit jaded. Or maybe it is the weather which is overcast and threatening.  The hostel provides breakfast cereal which I take advantage of. The YHA is franchising out some hostels and this is one of them. And it seems much better than the official ones have become.
      To start off I walk through the rest of Kirkby Stephen which proves to be as pretty a wee place as it is well provided with shops and chip-shops. What it doesn't have is an open gear shop.

Up early again. But this time it is actually neccessary as my train really does leave at 6.00 am. I'm semi conscious until Leeds where, like last time, I am startled into some sort of wakefullness by the rush hour. Trains empty of commuters who go charging by in great herds and you have to avoid them. I get a coffee and something to eat and jump on the Carlisle train.

This is nearly empty until Skipton when suddenly it fills with a great party of people who all seem to be retired and enthusiastic about trains. The couple who join me at my table buy a guide to the Carlisle-Settle line when the tea trolly guy comes round. It is crowded enough for me to be glad to get off at Dent and to step into solitude. And solitude it is. As I charged up the hill in much hotter weather to get the train last time, I only have a gentle rise to deal with as I carry on up The Coal Road. Immediately I come across orchids on the verge. There are dozens of them, almost drifts in places. 

I wake up early in the grim and cramped bunkhouse. It is a gorgeous morning. Lambent light makes the cloud round Pen-Y-Ghent into a glowing halo. Nothing to keep me here. No inclusive breakfast, and no means of making tea. I need water though and am wondering if the bathroom water is potable when I remember that there is a campsite almost next door to the pub. So I set off and make a quick detour. Sure enough the campsite has a water tap so I refil my plastic bottles. Off again munching a museli bar. Not much of a breakfast but the shop is still shut so it will have to do. I don't mind too much. The morning light is too delicious to mourn lost sausages for long.

It is wet when I get up, the road outside the pub slick with light rain and it is still drizzling slightly and overcast. This is not such a bad thing as I have lost my brand new hat. I rememeber coming into the bar with it but not what happened after that.

 At least I have some sunblock if I need it later. But losing this hat after one day is annoying. The last one I bought, in Haworth, I lost after one afternoon!

Too early. Too too early. I have to get up at quarter to five but end up waking before the alarm and I am out of bed before half four. This is insane. Human's were not meant to endure...  nice morning though. It is just dawning as I stumble around the flat getting breakfast number one of a long series.

Few people are about as I leave the house, not even the usual bus drivers from the garage. There are a few drunkatics shambling around and when I get to Archway, some shift workers. The tube is locked. Panic. My train is at 6.00 I read the timetable and there is just enough time to get to Kings Cross if the first tube train is bang on time.