Coast to Coast - Day 10

Day 10 - Richmond to Ingleby Arncliffe (25 miles)

There's plenty to see and do in Richmond and, on my perfect Coast to Coast, I'd have a rest day here and spend some time looking at the town and its history. The castle was started in the 11th century and dominates the town, even as a ruin. Richmond was famous as a centre for cabinet making and a market town. There's a fine cobbled marketplace and lots of tiny streets running off it.

We had a long day ahead of us - the longest on the walk - and so we made a fairly early start, met Sue on the edge of town and set off with purpose.

The trouble with these long days is that you feel a pressure to get the miles ticked off and it becomes less of a walk and more of a route march. It's a measure of my improving fitness that at the end of the day, although pretty weary, I was not as pooped as I was when arriving in Shap and I was able to walk a further mile to the pub that evening.

The day began with a steep descent from Richmond to cross the Swale, which is now becoming a proper wide river (you can no longer jump it or wade across) and we followed the Swale as far as Catterick Bridge. Just after Richmond, you walk through some woodland and it was an absolute carpet of wild garlic. This pungent-smelling plant has been with us throughout the walk and we were lucky - for a couple of weeks each year, it's a lovely white flower, for the rest of the time a mass of flat leaves or nothing at all.

We were clocking up the miles and our first target was the A1. It was a significant event crossing the M6 at Shap, but the more easterly Great North Road was a sign that our destination was getting closer. The Coast to Coast path should take you under the A1 alongside the River Swale, but that section of path is currently closed due to road improvement work on the A1. The path is diverted with an extra mile added to the day (just what you need!) and you cross the A1 via a temporary footbridge amid a mass of earthworks and rejoin the proper path alongside Catterick Racecourse.

Just after Catterick Bridge, where the old A1 crossed the Swale, we left the river that had been our companion for the past two-and-a-half days and struck east across the Vale of Mowbray. The North York Moors still looked a long way away, but getting steadily nearer and nearer. One feature of the walk is seeing large landmarks creeping towards you or being left behind. You stand on Kidsty Pike and see the Pennines and think: "I've got to walk all that way." Two hard days later, you're standing on Nine Standards Rigg looking east to the Lakeland Fells and thinking: "wow! I walked from there."

First village you come to (and there aren't many on this stage) is Bolton-on-Swale, although it's on Bolton Beck rather than the Swale. It's a pretty, well-kept village with a nice 14th century church. There's a sign saying that you can make yourself a cup of tea in the church if you wish, which is the most Christian thing I've seen in any church in the past decade. In the churchyard, there's a memorial to Henry Jenkins, who claimed to be 165 years old when he died.

You are now into arable land with a few cows here and there and the path is via bridleways and a few footpaths. It should be easy walking, but there's no shortage of stiles and Armstrong gates to slow you down, and the paths were also very telling. There were no huge rocks like the Lake District, but the bridleways had been trodden in the wet and the hoof marks had set like concrete, so it was easy to turn your ankle. In the arable fields, tractors always seem to have one wheel on the path when working the field and the cleats left by the tyre have also baked into corrugations that really punish your feet and ankles.

Our first target was the village of Danby Wiske where there's a pub called the White Swan. We arrived to find Mr and Mrs Two Homes sitting outside and this put David, who was already not in his best mood, into a right grump. A lot of walkers were staying at the pub, although none that we knew, and how I wished I was among them. The good news was that we had 15 miles under our belts, I had an excellent cup and tea and the fruit cake was the best of the whole trip.

In the pub, we examined maps and checked where Sue was staying. She had to go on to Osmotherley, making her day a little longer, while we stopped at Ingleby Arncliffe. We then discovered that the next day Sue was walking a 20-miler to Blakey Ridge, while we had two days to complete the journey. It meant our paths diverged and she would finish a day earlier than we would. We'd all assumed that we would finish on the same day.

So, around five miles from Danby Wiske, we waved goodbye to our companion of the past nine days as she took a more direct route to Osmotherley and we headed for Ingleby. After the walk, Sue is being joined by her husband Richard and spending some time in Cambridge and London. We made a loose arrangement to meet up and said our farewells.

It was odd being just the two of us, but there were more miles to cover and they were hard miles. At the end of the day, one mile seems like two, and the path often followed three sides of a rectangle where the right of way was blocked by an unco-operative landowner. The Cleveland Hills were getting closer and closer and soon we reached the barrier of the A19, the main road into Middlesbrough. Unlike other major roads, there's no footbridge across and you've no choice but to wait for a gap and run across two lanes of fast-moving cars and lorries. A rush of adrenalin helps get those stiff legs moving, but it's crazy that there isn't a bridge. They even built a footbridge over Thorney bypass and I've never seen anyone using that.

You'd think that all the businesses and agencies along the route would get themselves together and lobby government to make this a designated long-distance footpath, build a footbridge here, improve the paths and stiles and put in some proper, consistent waymarks. The world recognises the Coast to Coast as one of the world's top long-distance walks and yet our authorities effectively ignore it.

Our B&B was on the route as we entered Ingleby Arncliffe and landlady, Jo Collinson, was in the front garden mowing the lawn. She was a model of efficiency and energy, within minutes we had tea, scones, the rules of the house had been explained, breakfast orders taken and then she was sorting out two young children and finishing the lawn. Accommodation was in a separate building at the back of the house, but it was very good. Jo said the only place to eat was the village pub called the Blue Bell. It had recently changed hands, so the new folk were still being assessed, but early signs looked promising. We were a bit dismayed by how far it was and there was the prospect of a hill to negotiate on the way back, but the pub proved excellent, with good beer, good food and very friendly staff who actually looked pleased to be serving you.

Tim and his nephew joined us and we had a very enjoyable meal. It turns out that Tim is from Northampton and knows many of the same farmers and characters in the area as David. We had a good old reminisce about our walk this far, including the various navigation errors. On the first day, Tim and nephew had walked from St Bees to Black Sail Hut and stayed there overnight. That was a hard first day!

Wild garlic in the woods just out of Richmond.