Open Writing

...We were welcomed by the landlady and, as we walked down the tiled hall, I could see a newspaper spread out on the floor below a sign on the wall which said PLEASE LEAVE YOUR BOOTS HERE. However, it was not necessary to read the sign as the landlady stopped next to the newspaper and said 'leave your boots here please' pointing to the newspaper...

Alan Nolan continues his hugely entertaining account of a Coast to Coast walk with his mates.

To purchase a copy of Ancient Feet visit
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Ancient-Feet-Alan-Nolan/dp/1906510970/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1258967135&sr=1-1

Signed copies of the book are available from Alan http://apn.thelea@yahoo.co.uk

We arrived in Richmond in the early afternoon and took refuge in a pub, where we had a drink and a sandwich whilst reviewing our situation. My view was that we should call it a day and hope for better weather on Saturday, even if it did mean a longer walk. However, I said nothing and the decision was made to walk on. Democracy at work. Those who keep quiet are governed by the vociferous. Not that I felt aggrieved or petulant in any way.

The route beyond Richmond is not at all attractive for walkers. The Vale of Mowbray is rich farmland at the northern end of the Vale of York, but it is flat and featureless and unattractive to walkers. On top of that, much of the route is on tarmac as there are no suitable public footpaths heading in the right direction. Indeed, there is one stretch of eight consecutive miles with tarmac underfoot. With this knowledge in mind, our decision was to forget footpaths and simply walk along the road, perhaps as far as Catterick Bridge, in order to complete as many miles as we could as quickly as we could.

Tom had obtained a bus timetable whilst we were in Richmond so that we knew that there was a bus service from Catterick Bridge but, after giving it some thought as we walked along, I suggested that we would be better getting a taxi as the cost, split between four of us, would be cheaper than four bus fares and it would be more flexible as we would not need to worry about bus timetables. You see, petulance and grievances can lead to effective lateral thinking (even though I say again that I was not feeling petulant or aggrieved, of course).

We made rapid progress and, for the first time that day, the rain had stopped. To our surprise, Paul had stayed with us again rather than walking on ahead and, as we stretched our legs, I found that I was walking with him with Tom and Joe some way behind. When we reached Brompton-on-Swale, we stopped for the other two to catch up and, fortuitously, a taxi pulled up across the road and the driver went into a house. When he came out a few minutes later, I crossed to have a word with him about the possibility of being picked up in Bolton-on-Swale in an hour's time. He agreed, although he said that it might be another driver.

By walking the additional distance, we knocked seven and a half miles off Saturday's walk. We were dropped off outside the B&B soon after five and arranged to be collected by the taxi at eight thirty next morning. As we stood at the side of the road, I wondered why Tom was faffing around with his pack when all I wanted to do was get inside and have a nice hot bath or shower. Eventually, he produced his notes listing the places he had booked and studied them carefully for a moment.

'Now, I couldn't get us all in at one B&B,' he announced and, dispensing with his customary sham of a democratic discussion, he continued,'me and Joe will stay here and Paul and Al can stay at the Castle Guesthouse, which is a much nicer place than this.'

Bells, sirens and alarms went off. This was more Tomatalk which I translated as 'I couldn't give a shit what either of these two places are like, but the other could be bloody miles away for all I know, so I'm bagging this one.'

Accepting our leader's decision, we arranged to meet later for our evening meal and went our separate ways. Fortunately, our digs were only a short hike away and we arrived before dark.

We were welcomed by the landlady and, as we walked down the tiled hall, I could see a newspaper spread out on the floor below a sign on the wall which said PLEASE LEAVE YOUR BOOTS HERE. However, it was not necessary to read the sign as the landlady stopped next to the newspaper and said 'leave your boots here please' pointing to the newspaper. There was another sign higher up on the wall THANK YOU FOR NOT SMOKING. That's alright, thank you for noticing.

This was definitely more of a guest house than a B&B and our landlady ushered us through a door (with a THANK YOU FOR NOT SMOKING sign on it), up some stairs, through another door (with a THANKYOU FOR NOT SMOKING sign on it), along a corridor (with a THANK YOU FOR NOT SMOKING sign on the wall) to a bedroom. It was a pleasant room (with a THANKYOU FOR NOT SMOKING sign in it) with twin beds and a washbasin in the corner.

After allowing us to pop our heads round the door to inspect the bedroom, she took us along the landing to another door marked BATHROOM. She explained that this bathroom would be for our exclusive use, as the other bedroom on that landing would be vacant that night, and that the key to the bathroom door was in our bedroom. After settling in, I took the key and toddled off to use the bathroom. As I washed my hands, I read the sign above the "washbasin saying AS WE HAVE RECENTLY HAD A WATER METER INSTALLED, IT WOULD BE HELPFUL IF GUESTS COULD REFRAIN FROM USING MORE WATER THAN NECESSARY. I duly flushed the toilet again. Having washed my hands, I turned to leave and as I gripped the door handle, a sign on the door instructed me NOW WASH YOUR HANDS
I turned obediently back to the washbasin before thinking 'hang on a minute, I already have'.

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