Day Fourteen: Glaisdale to Littlebeck

Glaisdale to Littlebeck: a mere 13 km

Our bed last night, though a lovely antique, sagged in the middle really badly and neither of us slept very well. But in the morning we slept in until 7:15 and didn't have breakfast until 8:30. The hostess wouldn't make us porridge (!!?) which was a little annoying because it's our favourite. She said that she doesn't make porridge because she has a good muesli instead. But muesli is dry cereal, not hot and cooked, and I tried her muesli and it wasn't that good. So we ended up having scrambled eggs on toast and bacon, copious amounts of English tea, and lots toast with marmalade.

We dawdled packing up and took some pictures of the house before we left. The lady really did have some nice antiques, including a tall solemn grandfather clock that I liked. On the front of the house, there was a sundial over the front door. Kind of a neat idea. There was also a date over the front door from the 1700s...in other words the house is close to 300 years old!

You got that? No caravans
Glaisdale in the distance
Hi! Sunshine!
Oh Postman Pat (link)
Fording the ford
Beggar's Bridge (here's the story behind the bridge)
How does one buy a river?
Worn down sandstone steps
Just a suggestion
More sandstone stepping stones

Once we were on our way, we went quite slowly, taking pictures of bridges and trees and stone paths. In Egton Bridge, we stopped at an old Roman Catholic Church --an oddity because it remained Catholic even after Henry VIII's big plans. It was unlocked and we looked around inside at the paintings and architecture and in the little prayer garden. The Catholic ornamentation struck us as clearly different from the several Anglican churches we'd been in previously.

St. Hedda's church and prayer garden
Inside St. Hedda's
Take that; walkers, bikers and riders only
Egton Estate:
we wanted to explore but there were signs saying "thou shalt not"
Anyone for a hearse?
My next car

Upon reaching Grosmont, we could immediately hear the steam train and it wasn't long before we were awarded with the sight of one. Grosmont (pronounced Growmont) is one of the stops on a restored steam train line, North Yorkshire Moors Railway. It serves both tourists and people commuting from town to town. We investigated taking a trip, and decided against it, but it was quite reasonably priced, and would have been fun.

Train leaving Grosmont
Workers having a chat

Semaphore signalling

We hung around the station for quite a while, watching the trains come and go. We had lunch and tea in the train station and Brent took lots of pictures.


The walk out of Grosmont was an incredibly steep hill. We walked upwards for several kilometers on the pavement (boo). We left the farmland behind and went into the moors again. We stopped in the moors at an obelisk for an apple and some chocolate and to appreciate the moorland--this was the first day we traveled through the moors when it was not raining.

Yes, a 33% grade
Obelisk standing in the moors

Coming towards Littlebeck
Littlebeck in the distance

We reached our B&B--Intake Farm-- at about three thirty. The hostess invited us in to her kitchen for tea, and she chatted with us for quite a while. She's about the same age as my mum and has three daughters about the same ages as my brothers and I. It felt quite like home sitting at her kitchen table drinking tea and talking. The house was a huge old farmhouse that used to house two families, but has been renovated now for the family and the B&B guests. The farm is a working farm with cattle and over 500 sheep.

Our room was quite big and the bed didn't have a footboard (hurray!) so Brent could stretch his legs out. The shower had lots of pressure, and there was free internet. We had supper at the house because there was no where else to go. Supper was a simple but tasty homecooked meal of mashed potatoes, beef stew, cauliflower with cheese, and steamed cabbage, and we had pavlova for dessert. It was very good but cost us fifteen pounds each--you do the math. Nevertheless, we were extremely happy with the Intake Farm, it was clean and cozy and one of the friendliest places we stayed.

We found out that the Australians would be staying at Intake Farm the following night, which was both good news and bad news. Bad news, because we were still holding out the hope that they would catch up to us somewhere along the line and we could spend the last day hiking with them and celebrate at the end, and this was now for certain not going to happen. But good news because it meant that we could leave them a note when we left, and so that's what we did.