Displacing England’s Shoreline, One Pebble at a Time

After nearly 15 hours of planes, trains and shuttles, at last I find myself among the friendly people of St Bees, enjoying their sunny seaside hamlet.  The surf laps at the broad beach of golden-red sand while herds of sheep dot the pastures over the gentle sandstone cliffs of St Bees Head.  From our vantage point on the boardwalk, I soak up the last of the warm sun and trace the route Laurel and I walked early this morning. After our full English breakfast of poached eggs on toast, bacon AND sausage and a french press of thick ‘n chewy coffee, we had set off for the shore to follow in the tradition of countless Coast to Coast pilgrims before us – to select and carry a pebble from the sands of the Irish Sea over the 191 mile walk and then deposit it into the surf of the North Sea. My stone is a roughly elliptical green-blue nugget of sea glass. It is the color of some of my favorite oceans on the planet. (It is also the color of my baby’s fresh-ta-def Nike high-top basketball sneakers – go #11!) Pebbles in pockets, photo op taken at the official “mile zero” marker for the c2c trail, and loaded down with the day’s essentials, we made off for the first leg of our 14-day journey.  

The steady climb to our perch above opened up to spectacular views of St Bees to the south, Fleswick Bay up ahead, and the hills of Scotland and Ireland beyond.  Herds of sheep grazed the blocks of brilliantly verdant pastures which are mostly bordered by low ‘dry-stone walls’ – mortarless handicraft which likely date back hundreds of years to when huge fields were parceled out to English families. The sun stayed with us to warm the gusty breezes that swept across the glens as we skirted 300ft red sandstone cliffs blanketed by heathers of pink and purple. The trail was quiet and the sea below remained oddly void of any marine craft or watersport enthusiasts… so the hike belonged to the seagulls and puffins, and the white clouds, and to Laurel and me. 

 Our route took us to the town of Whitehaven – a former coal-mining village on the harbor, bustling today with shops and restaurants. We sought out hiking gear outfitters to bolster our waterproof layer system. The weather forecast this week calls for boatloads of rain. Laurel and I had experienced the unpredictability of Northern England’s weather on Day 1, as we were caught in a torrential downpour walking back from afternoon tea. With the chill factor that comes with drenching, gusty rain fully realized, we spent our first few hours in Cumbria nestled in the luxurious comfort of Stone House Farm’s electric blanket-adorned sleeping accommodations… shivering it out like champs, praying for our shoes and clothes to dry before we hit the trail and battling the unavoidable jet lag of a European holiday. 

Oh, yeah… and “Best of” awards thus far go to:

Best Meal: Queen’s Hotel Pub. Battered Cod with an actual leafy Green Salad for me and Meat Pie in the flavor of chicken and leek for Laurel. (Meat pie…? AGAIN?? Yes, loove… meat pie. Every day.)

 Best Church and Spookiest Graveyard: Priory Church. Formerly, a 12th century Benedictine monastery… still welcomes worshippers through its ornate and extra medieval Norman door. 

 Best Framed Art in a B&B: Serenity Prayer in the stairway of Stone House Farm.

 Coming soon: More walking.  Walking the moors. Walking the fells. Hell, we might even walk a dale or hop over a swale. And photos of food. Of course! You really don’t want to miss this…