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Choose your own adventure!

This morning we opted to choose our own adventure and explore the northwest coast; an area not covered in the Orientation Tour yesterday.  It was my turn to drive, so once I had convinced my left leg it didn’t have a role to play, we took off in our zippy little hire car, heading out of town and up steep, windy, pot-holed roads, to reach Captain Cook’s Lookout on one of the most northerly points of the island.  After about 20 minutes (the speed limit on the island is 50, so there’s no going anywhere fast), we found ourselves enjoying spectacular vistas as we took the short walk to Cook’s Monument and the viewing platform beyond. From here we overlooked the rocky outcrops that provide the breeding grounds for a variety of seabirds, and the vast expanse of ocean beyond.  As we meandered our way back we stopped at a couple more vantage points, one of which, Puppy’s Point, we shared with a nonchalant herd of grazing cows. Under the British system of free range grazing rights, locals are pe
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In a hurry going nowhere!

As the car drove behind the reversing bus, our driver made the comment that despite all the signs on the bus saying ‘do not overtake turning vehicle,’ etc, there was a driver who was ‘in a hurry going nowhere!’ A situation which struck me as being something I didn’t expect to encounter in what I anticipated to be a more relaxed approach to life on this remote island   We were on our morning orientation tour of Norfolk Island on a somewhat windy and showery day, conditions which were in direct conflict with the advertised mild island weather. With the prevailing conditions in mind, it was probably a good day to be in a bus traversing the island accompanied by the knowledgeable commentary of our driver.  We drove firstly around historic Kingston built when the island became a penal colony, all the while being entertained with interesting stories of unfair administrators and the cruel treatment of prisoners who were sent here for ‘the term of their natural life,’ which meant that they wer
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It’s not Italy, but …

 No, it’s not Italy, but, getting to Norfolk Island has proven to be an adventure in itself and this quaint island does seem to hold a great deal of promise.  And yes, I was meant to be in Italy at this point in time, however with that trip postponed until 2025, due to circumstances beyond our control, my friend Fiona and I decided to make the best of a disappointing situation and take ourselves on a week away in lieu of Tuscany.  Hence we found ourselves rising at 4am this morning in the Holiday Inn at Melbourne airport, where we availed ourselves of the courtesy bus which ferried us to the airport in plenty of time for our 6am flight to Sydney.  Having ascertained that our luggage was indeed checked all the way through to Norfolk Island, we threaded our way through security and settled in for an airport-style breakfast, at huge cost. It was tasty however, and the coffee was not only particularly good, but also much needed   Our flight left on time and consequently landed in Sydney in
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Coast to Coast UK - Robin Hoods Bay to home

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Anyone who knows me well, knows that 3 weeks is my upper limit for being away from home. By the time I get to 3 weeks, I am itching to be back in my safe space, in the same country as my family and the people I love, no matter how great the travel experience I am having. I have been known to push through the homesickness and make it to 5 weeks, but it’s a stretch. The fact that I have been away from home for 4 weeks and 3 days now, is a miracle in itself, but add to that the fact that I had to leave one beautiful grandson behind, and while I have been away, another grandson has been added to the family, that I have managed to remain absent this long, is a miracle worthy of a sainthood. But I am at Heathrow airport as I write, and will soon be winging my way back home, albeit without Wallsy. But let’s backtrack a little… We made it to Robin Hoods Bay and settled  into our beautiful B&B called Lee-side for a well-earned rest. We had one day to explore the quaint little sea-side
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Coast to Coast UK - Egton Bridge to Robin Hoods Bay

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We finished as we had begun – fully decked out in wet weather gear. There had been rain overnight, as forecast, but when the rooster crowed at dawn (his personal version of dawn), there was a suggestion of weak sunlight, and we mistakenly thought the day was going to fine up. We had already looked at some alternate lane-based routes to skirt us around the wet-underfoot and boggy bits, if necessary, so we felt well prepared for the day. Back in the room after a quick breakfast, we readied ourselves for our predetermined departure time of 08:30. This time was based on information that the North Yorkshire Moors Railway steam-hauled train would be arriving at Grosmont Station, 2 miles up the road, at 10:25 and we thought it would be nice to have a coffee there and watch said train arrive and depart. Ready to leave right on time, we looked out the window, to see the rain bucketing down. So it was packs off, waterproof layers and pack covers on, and we were again ready to leave. The walk
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Coast to Coast UK - Blakey Ridge to Egton Bridge

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We must have looked like a line of forward slash symbols marching across a page, as the ten of us who left the haven of the Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge at 9 am today, walked across the edge of the moor, leaning into the cruel wind. The wind was cold and lazy, wanting to go straight through, rather than around us, and trying to blow us off the edge of the moor with every gust. We had walked for an hour and covered 2 ½ miles from High Blakey Moor to Danby High Moor, but when we looked across the dale, we were still looking directly at the Lion Inn across the breach.   We soldiered on, battling the wind, which was sometimes blowing across our path, and sometimes pushing us on from behind. We turned onto Glaisdale Moor, our ranks quite spread out by then, each making our own way to the best of our abilities, and followed the line of Glaisdale Rigg. At some point on the Rigg, Wallsy and I found a suitable large stone, there had not been one seat on the whole walk, and we had been hiking fo
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Coast to Coast UK - Great Broughton to Blakey Ridge

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Often in life we are encouraged to forget the past and look ahead, setting our sights firmly on our goals. But when hiking it has become apparent that looking back is equally as important. By stopping and turning around every so often, we see the places we have been from a different perspective. We can see the beauty we have passed through, and all that we have achieved, necessary motivation to keep us walking towards our goal, especially when it is up a steep hill.   We had organised the hotel van to return us to Clay Bank Top carpark this morning at 9 and our New Zealand friends joined us for the same shuttle. We got a headstart on them going up the steep pinch towards Carr Ridge, until, just through the first gate, ½ a kilometre in, Wallsy spotted a seat which provided him with an appropriate spot for a quick sock adjustment, and I decided to pop my coat on, as I could already sense the cold wind on top of the moor. This gave New Zealand a chance to overtake us. Suitably rugged
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