Coast to Coast - Day Eight

Day Eight: Keld to Reeth (11 miles)

This part of Yorkshire was once the centre of the UK lead-mining industry. Lead was essential in the mid 19th century for roofs and pipes, but also in the manufacture of glass, pottery and paint; and it's amazing that this now pretty valley was once scarred by scores of mines. Keld itself was established as a mining settlement and it's a testament to nature's powers of recovery that the place is so beautiful today.

The head of Swaledale (above) and below: looking down the dale

Lead mining started in the Bronze Age (why is there no Lead Age?) and a lead ingot with the word "Hadrian" stamped on it was found in Swaledale, proving the Romans were busy around here. In the 17th Century mining increased and by the middle of the 19th Century, Britain was producing half of all the world's lead, with 10 per cent of that coming from Swaledale. At the end of the century, lead mines opened in South Africa, the price dropped and the mines here closed down. Workers left for the coal mines of Durham and the dale declined into sheep farming. Tourism is now a major boon for the area, which makes it all the more strange that the Coast-to-Coast walk is not better supported with path maintenance and signage. Our landlady at Butt House told me around 80 per cent of her business was from Coast-to-Coast walkers.

From Keld, we had the option of taking the high route and having a closer look at the old lead workings, or sticking to the valley floor. With rain forecast, we chose the latter, but I'd love to go back one day and do the high route.

It's a very pleasant walk along the Swale, there are several waterfalls (forces) higher up and as the valley widens, the river is a wide, rocky stream sometimes constricted within high sandy banks where I saw rare sand martins nesting. I hoped I might see a kingfisher, but no such luck. There were plenty of lapwings about and oystercatchers whistling. I spotted some other waders, which I thought might be redshank (I'm not that hot on waders). During the early morning, still in my bed, I had heard curlews calling, but I didn't see any on the walk.

The bluebells in upper Swaledale were beautiful and not confined to the woods, they were all across the fields. I took some pictures, but the camera doesn't convey the beauty of them.  We were also treated to swathes of wild garlic, primroses, cowslips, marsh marigolds, buttercups, forget-me-not and pink campion.

Bluebells on the slopes of the dale.

After an hour or so walking, you come to the village of Muker (pronounced "miuker") which has a tea shop, but it was a little early for tea, so we carried on along the valley. As we crossed the bridge, we bumped into Mr and Mrs Two Homes. Mrs Two Homes annoyed David by asking him: "Are you enjoying it yet?" and if you wanted to wind him up at any stage during the next week, you only had to say: "are you enjoying it yet?" It became our catchphrase whenever the going got a bit tough.

Later on, we met them in Reeth and Mr Two Homes said they'd walked into Muker, had a coffee and then found the lower bridge had been washed out in the winter floods, so had been forced to retrace their steps all the way back.

Bridge at Muker - the one that wasn't washed away!

After Muker, the valley is more intensively grazed and there are lots of stone walls and evil little stiles, which are basically a narrow slot in the wall just wide enough for your leg, with a small, sprung gate ready to trap your foot if you're not quick enough.

We were walking without coats in the warm sunshine, but towards noon, the predicted rain came in. We were just approaching the village of Gunnerside when it started, so instead of donning waterproofs we made a dash for either the pub or tea shop, which our guidebook said we would find. We got to the pub, only to find it shut, as the rain intensified, but luckily the tea rooms were just around the corner, so we piled in.

There was one, slightly grumpy woman in charge, who was clearly torn between earning loads of money and having to work a bit too hard. She had a certain pace, which couldn't be stepped up, so we sat at a table in the dirty side of the establishment (where you didn't have to take your boots off) while she served the table of Aussies, who had beaten us to the tea by about 10 minutes.

Once they were sorted she moved on to us, pausing only to tell off Tim and his nephew (who had just arrived) for venturing a little too close to the part of the establishment with the nice carpet in their dirty boots. We had a lovely cup of tea and our first taste of fruit cake with cheese (a Yorkshire speciality). We were perfectly happy to suffer slow service as the rain was now bouncing off the road outside.

Gunnerside is at about the half-way stage of this short and easy day and from there, the path follows close by the river all the way to Reeth, capital of Swaledale. One section of the path is very strange and involves walking along the top of a heavy stone wall about three feet wide at the top and about eight feet high. It seems to have been built to contain the river and is several hundred metres long. It's not worrying, but after a while you start to think that you might fall off and then concentrate a little too much on not tripping up, so that you catch your foot and scare yourself back to concentration. Halfway along I glanced down and a duck had built her nest just below the river side of the wall in some tree branches and bushes. We made eye contact and she looked a little startled, but was staying put despite the foot traffic. I asked David and Sue if they'd seen her, but they hadn't.

Reeth is a nice place, stone-built and with a large village green. We were staying at The Buck, a large pub/hotel on the corner of the green/marketplace. Reeth was a boom town when the lead mines were in full swing and now gets by quite nicely as a market town and tourist trap. It was used extensively as a film set when the TV adaptation of the James Herriott books All Creatures Great and Small, about a Yorkshire vet, were being made.

I liked The Buck (Black Sheep) but it was a quirky place. We were able to watch the FA Cup final in a big room with a pull-down screen. The Aussies were in there and I had a nice chat with them and Mr and Mrs Two Homes were sat at the back. I did some small talk and, in spite of Sue's reservations about her fellow countrymen, I found them very friendly. We couldn't watch extra time because our food was ready in the bar, but Mrs Two Homes brought me the final score.

They sat us down and took our order, but as we waited for our food, a singer arrived with his guitar and amp and set up a big speaker about 10 feet away from us. I told the waiter I wasn't too happy as it would be noisy and soon afterwards, the landlady arrived to offer us another table in the lower bar. I accepted her offer and she said that the pub had to cater for locals as well as walkers. Hmm, I didn't see many locals, but I don't think she was being grumpy; it's just that some Yorkshire folk have little or no charm.

The landlady reminding me that the pub has to cater for locals as well
 as walkers. Sue thought it was hilarious and took a picture.

There was another cause for me to talk to her a few minutes later when my starter arrived. I'd ordered bread, olive oil and balsamic vinegar and when it arrived it came on a huge slab of slate. There were four large rolls and a bowl of what seemed to be vinaigrette with balsamic vinegar dribbled across the slate. The waitress came to see if everything was all right, so I had to tell her it wasn't. Landlady duly arrived and I tried to explain to her I'd expected some olive oil with a few blobs of balsamic dropped in. I might as well have been explaining it to my dog, she hadn't got a clue what I was on about. I think perhaps, it had been suggested as a starter, but the chef (never having been out of Reeth, let alone to an Italian restaurant) shook the oil and vinegar into an emulsion. I asked for a bowl of olive oil and she looked at me gone out. "I'll see what the chef can do," she said and took the bowl away. A few minutes later, I got a bowl of olive oil, but it was cheap cooking stuff, not nice extra-virgin. My second course was liver and that was perfect. The lesson: when in the Yorkshire Dales, don't try to be too adventurous.

Part way through our meal, the singer struck up and I was glad we'd moved; although by the time we'd finished a bottle of wine, he was sounding better. When the waitress brought round a card with his repertoire of songs, I made a request for Werewolves of London and we enjoyed howling along in the chorus.

Paul and sister-in-law Suzie joined us for a drink, no doubt alerted to our presence by the howling. I'd been saying to David that it was an odd thing walking with your sister-in-law ... what did he think was going on there ... I couldn't imagine walking with my sister-in-law ... so when they retired for bed and Suzie asked Paul if he had the key (singular) I gave David a nudge and said: told you so.