We are settling into our winter life in Cabo San Lucas. The pace of buying furniture and accessories has slowed down and we have had more time to explore the many walking trails all around our neighborhood, Paraiso Escondido. Almost all the plants are thorny, spiky, or prickly, with twisted and knotted trunks. And then, nestled amid the thorns and knots, I spy a single flower.
Mexican Cardon cactus
Of all the plants, the giant Cardon (accent on the last syllable) is the most impressive. Cardon is a name derived from the Spanish word cardo which means “thistle”. It is the tallest cactus in the world, with a maximum recorded heights of 63 feet. It resembles the saguaro cactus but has fewer ribs in the stem and has more branches. I love to see birds perched on the tops of its branches.
We see turkey vultures flying overhead every day, and one day I spotted what I think is a golden eagle.
Our roof deck. Imagine yourself here.
The cushions for the bench on the roof deck were delivered on time and are beautifully made. We love the brightness of the color. It’s been unusually windy and cool this winter here, but we have enjoyed a couple of lovely evenings with family around the fire pit under the stars.
Master bedroom wall undergoing a redo
Unfortunately the wall that was fixed in the master bedroom needed major surgery. A day after it was replastered, sanded, and repainted it blistered all over again. This time the workers took it down to the concrete, let it dry out completely, and dry some more. And then the crew got moved to a different project. And then, a day before guests arrived, they returned to reapply plaster so this time we told them to return after guests are gone. I’m thinking this may be a design element that we can say reveals the bones of the condo. Modern fusion maybe?
The beach is a little over a mile away and has a lovely wide expanse of soft sand. There are rocks at one end that provide the classic waves breaking against rocks scene. We are careful to walk in the soft sand high above the tide line since this stretch of beach is infamous for sleeper waves. These are waves that appear in a wave train without warning, hurling themselves far above the foam line and then retreating forcefully back to the ocean. Several people have been surprised and drowned by these waves in recent years.
Scott’s mom and sister arrived for a weeklong visit at the beginning of March. We visited shops in Cabo San Lucas, strolled along the Marina, visited Todos Santos, and spent a lovely evening in San Jose Del Cabo.
Church in Todos SantosWall mural, Todos SantosStreet in Todos Santos
My mother and aunt are visiting now and my niece, nephews, and their mom just left. We love sharing this beautiful place. We plan to be here from the end of October to mid December this year, and then return after Christmas. Get your tickets now! Early discount! Special prices just for you! I’m kidding on all the price stuff, of course, just trying the sell you all on the idea of coming to visit. For a good time, text or email me. Our calendar is wide open so far…..
Pirate cruise by El ArcoMy niece on a pirate cruisePirate ship!
Snowy, icy streets by the Amazon Spheres, photo by Anne B.
We were a little disappointed to miss the record snowfall in Seattle in the first part of February. We kept reading articles in the Seattle Times and getting reports from friends about snow piling up, school and business closures, and icy streets and sidewalks. I am happy to say that everyone we know got through Snowdoom pretty easily. The photos of the parks, trails, and mountains were spectacular and I was quite jealous.
Meanwhile, in Paraiso Escondido, the sun shone and temperatures ranged from 70 to the upper eighties. Paraiso Escondido is the name of our neighborhood and it means hidden paradise. We continue to spend much of our days waiting for deliveries, waiting for minor repairs to be completed, and figuring out how to run errands and get things we need without a car. Taxis are expensive since the local taxi company has had a monopoly on tourist transportation for many years. We had to pick up a framed poster last week; the taxi into town cost us $20 US and the one home with the stop for the poster set us back $30! Uber is only recently legal in Cabo and is openly hated by all the taxi drivers. Still, many tourists who are accustomed to taking Uber and Lyft at home are beginning to use Uber here since it is less than half the price of a cab. Resort areas appear to have some type of agreement with the taxi driver cartel because Uber drivers are not allowed to pick up inside the resorts. However, we can take Uber from outside the resort into the resort as long as the Uber driver leaves his license at the security gate. Our other option has been to rent a car as needed, and we have done that occasionally. Paraiso Escondido is a lovely and quiet area, but it is quite a ways from downtown Cabo and all the services.
Outdoor furniture puzzle completed!
We received the shipment of our old outdoor furniture from the Clyde Hill house. Scott took most of it apart to store the furniture in Bellevue before shipping it here. Miraculously, we received all the pieces and had all the nuts and bolts. It was our very own homeowner’s puzzle project!
Grocery shopping has been a challenge without a car. It is too far and too hot to walk into central Cabo to the closest market. Lucky for us, La Comer has a delivery service. It took me several tries to figure out the online ordering system. Dictionary in hand, I would choose items and think I had them loaded into my cart only to find that a) I hadn’t really added them, b) I had added ten of one item, or c) I hadn’t properly logged in so my full cart didn’t really exist. Scott suggested I use the experience as an opportunity to improve my Spanish cursing vocabulary. An empty refrigerator was a great motivator, though, and I managed to place an order for delivery. The next challenge came when I received phone calls to ask me if it was okay to substitute X for Y (I think) and to let me know certain items were out of stock. It is one thing to try to communicate face to face. It is much more challenging to understand a foreign language over the phone without the aid of facial expressions, body language, and gestures. The food was delivered at the delivery time I requested by two lovely ladies and we got what I had ordered. I am very happy that this modern service is available here.
Sunrise over Quivira Golf Resort
I get out for early morning runs several times a week and get to see some amazing sunrises. I hear coyotes yipping, owls hooting, and often see whales breaching. We had dinner with our next door neighbors, Dave and Elizabeth, who have two condos they rent out on Airbnb. They are here intermittently depending on their work schedules and when their condos are not rented. The world is a small place: Dave, Elizabeth, and their dog, Kion, live in Bellevue and, up until recently, owned a house in Clyde Hill. They are runners and recently participated in a half marathon in San Jose Del Cabo. I was too lazy to try the half marathon, but Elizabeth and I have hiked to the lighthouse with Kion a couple of times.
Whale watching group in front of El Arco, the archWhale surfacingThe whale’s fluke, or tail
Scott and I went on a whale watching excursion organized by QLife, the Quivira social planning group that plans daily activities for owners. 17 of us met at the marina in Cabo and headed out for a 2.5 hour tour on a 32 door panga, or fishing boat. Our guide had a degree in marine biology and environmental conservation and was extremely knowledgeable about whales and marine life in general. We were able to see five whales, three adults and one mother and calf. One whale surfaced right behind the boat with a giant whoosh of exhaled air; it gave us all quite a thrill.
QLife also offers weekly book club meetings, and I have attended a couple of times. Book club is led by Ariana, a young Mexican woman who has a great love for literature. For the last meeting, Ariana chose an essay by Mexican author Octavio Paz from his book The Labyrinth of Solitude published in 1961. The essay is called “Mexican Masks” which, in itself, has several meanings. Mexicans are fond of physical masks as can be seen in both folkloric and popular culture. There is a famous museum of masks in Zacatecas, Mexico and one can find wooden masks in local craft stores. Lucha libre, Mexican professional wrestling, is characterized by colorful masks.
Lucha libre masks, image from Wikipedia
Octavio Paz, however, writes not about physical masks but about masks as a psychological and social identity, as a way that Mexicans hide from themselves and others. Some quotes from the essay:
“The Mexican…seems to me to be a person who shuts himself away to protect himself: his face is a mask and so is his smile.”
“He builds a wall of indifference and remoteness between reality and himself.”
“Form surrounds and sets bounds to our privacy, limiting its excesses, curbing its explosions, isolating and preserving it…. the Mexican aspires to create an orderly world regulated by clearly stated principles.”
“He wants modesty, prudence and a ceremonious reserve to rule over his everyday life.”
“Therefore we make use of dissimulation… The dissembler pretends to be someone he is not” because the pretense eventually becomes a superior, more artistic, form of reality.
“We dissimulate in order to deceive ourselves, and turn transparent and phantasmal.”
And my favorite, “The Mexican considers woman to be a dark, secret and passive being…whose instincts are not her own… and who is always vulnerable.”
Needless to say, between Ariana’s stories about growing up in Mexico to become a professional and educated woman and the Canadian and American perspectives the rest of us brought, we had a stimulating discussion about stereotypes, cultural norms, machismo, women’s roles in Mexico, and the repressive force of too much formality in a society. According to Ariana, machismo is alive and accepted in modern Mexico, corruption in government and business continues because it is both accepted and considered a form of competition, and the educational system is poor to mediocre. The majority of women, though educated, she said, still accept their roles as subservient to men and do not have professional ambitions. As a professional woman who loves to read and partake in intellectual discussions, Ariana considers herself an anomaly and shared that she has few female friends. It was fascinating to hear Ariana’s point of view, but it left us all a bit surprised and dismayed. Ariana’s intent with Paz’s essays is to help us understand Mexican culture and apparently, according to her, little has changed since Paz wrote his essays in the early 1960s. We have another essay this next week on The Day of the Dead, one of Mexico’s most beloved holidays.
We haven’t spent time at the pool yet. And no tequila shots so far. But we are enjoying our days and looking forward to when our visitors arrive in March. It’s been fun and challenging and educational to actually live in Cabo. I’m sure it will get easier and more routine as time passes. Meanwhile, we are learning how to pay our electric bill (in person, in cash only — and in Spanish) and our internet bill (in person, in cash, in Spanish). We went to San Jose for the Thursday night art walk and bought some art from a street artist. And we found a young art student who we are paying to paint a picture for us. I think we may be in for more surprises.
A rainy January morning in SeattleMexican flag at El Faro Viejo
We left Seattle on a rainy January day to travel to our new condo in Cabo San Lucas and begin the process of moving in to what we hoped would become our winter home. As the plane touched down on the tarmac at the San Jose del Cabo International Airport, I felt a sense of exhilaration, anticipation, and apprehension. It was exciting to dream of setting up a place where friends and family could join us for their vacations, where we could enjoy the sun and warmth almost every day, and from which we could explore the Baja Peninsula. At the same time, we were already dealing with construction delays and problems, furniture delivery delays and errors, and the bureaucracy that is inherent in Mexican companies and government. Fortunately, when we had taken possession of the condo in November 2018, a property manager, Roberto, had been recommended to us. His guidance and suggestions did much to help smooth our entry into Cabo condo life. Among other things, he had arranged for our internet service, a modern convenience that is as necessary in Cabo as in Seattle!
View across the terrace
Our condo, with its travertine floors and high ceilings, echoed when we unlocked our door and stepped inside. We had one bed, one sofa, and one chair. A washer and dryer, stove and oven, dishwasher, refrigerator, and microwave. And a great view. The first week was a whirlwind of buying, from linens and towels to measuring cups, dishes, pans, and food. Every buying trip would generate more lists. It would also provide me with opportunities to use my intermediate level Spanish skills, often leading to confusion for everyone which then gradually changed to understanding by means of body language, gestures, and shared English words. I couldn’t help but remember a story my Spanish teacher had told me when she was learning English. Thinking that she was doing pretty well, she was a little taken aback when someone kindly pointed out to her that the English word “public” has an “l” in it and that the “l” needs to be pronounced. I imagine I make many similar errors!
Médano Beach
One of the reasons we chose to come to Cabo is that it seems like a mix of Mexico and the U.S. The Baja doesn’t have the grand history of mainland Mexico or its large and colorful cities, but it has a relatively dry and sunny climate and is a four and a half hour plane ride from Seattle. It is famous for its resorts and beaches and many tourists flock here for a week of respite from snowy winter homes. We did that for twenty five years or more, coming with family to enjoy a week of vacation together. Thus Cabo was familiar, too, and that made the decision to buy here easier.
Cabo San Lucas sits at the tip of the Baja California Peninsula where the Pacific Ocean and the Sea of Cortez meet. Visitors usually fly into the airport in San Jose, about a 45 minute drive east of Cabo. The area is subtropical desert and is dry and rocky. On average, it has approximately 320 days of sun a year and less than ten inches of rain. The Sierra de la Laguna mountain range provides a backdrop to the city and is the southernmost range in the Pacific Crest system. Its peaks range from 1300 to 3300 feet in elevation, with gentle slopes on the western Pacific side and steeper slopes on the Sea of Cortez side.
Cabo itself is a resort town of more than 80,000 people. Many of the people are connected in some way to the tourist industry from working in resorts and restaurants to construction of new resorts and luxury homes. There is a thriving fishing industry and adventure tourism, and the bar and party scene is famous with everyone from spring breakers to newlyweds and retirees. When I mention Cabo to people they usually mention that they have been to Cabo Wabo, Sammy Hagar’s well known bar and nightclub. And then there are the cruise ships. Some of them are so large that they seem to fill the bay between Los Arcos and Medano Beach; when their passengers disembark to visit Cabo, their numbers seem to overwhelm the downtown area near the harbor.
But there is another Cabo, one that tourists do not often visit during their precious few days of vacation, and that is the Cabo where residents live, shop, and play. This Cabo sprawls behind the tourist areas, wrapping itself around the hills that sit between the town and the Pacific Ocean. This is the area we now had to learn to navigate and shop in.
Because of the geography (or, perhaps, sadistic urban planners), many of the streets twist, turn, and run at diagonal angles to each other. Actual traffic lights are obeyed and we were always happy to find a left turn lane with a green left arrow since many left turns are left to the discretion of drivers. Speaking of discretion, stop signs are usually a general suggestion to slow down and look all ways, but not necessarily to actually stop. In fact, coming to a full stop can earn one an angry honk from the driver behind since it interrupts traffic flow. There are several intersections without traffic lights where multiple lanes of traffic come together and, somehow, it works as each driver slows down and cautiously inches out to take his or her turn to cross the intersection. Many roads have giant speed bumps every 100 feet or so and these help keep speeds to a minimum. Unfortunately, many of the bumps are not painted or identified. The same is true for the upside down speed bumps, the random holes in the streets. Hitting either a bump or hole at more than 20mph can provide quite a jolt for drivers and passengers. On smaller streets, hazards come in the form of dogs who often lie sunning themselves in the middle of the road and piles of leftover construction materials blocking lanes. And then there are the pedestrians; they cross intersections, marked and unmarked, and often appear to be risking their lives as they dart between cars or across lanes of traffic.
Did I mention that I don’t drive here? Scott did a remarkable job of navigating, assessing, and deciding when to go and when to wait. He did an admirable job, too, of ignoring my gasps and attempts to find a brake on the passenger side. Almost forty years of marriage has helped him fine tune his ability to tune me out when necessary.
We make a good team. He drives and I frantically search the Spanish dictionary on my phone to find out how to say curtains, or mirror, or whatever item we are going to shop for next. Fortunately for me, my job is so much easier than his because most people speak English quite well. And then there are Costco, Home Depot, Walmart, and the Mexican equivalent of Fred Meyer/Whole Foods, La Comer. These are all giant stores with shopping carts, a wide selection of clearly tagged merchandise, and multiple checkout lanes. And clerks who speak English. We rented a car the first week we were here in order to set up the condo and our days were filled with trips to the big stores and smaller, more local ones. People were kind, helpful, and full of suggestions for us both in person and in online forums about Cabo living. We found tiny Mexican shops that sold dishes and glassware, a large Mexican artesanal store filled with furniture and art, and Mexican furniture stores.
About the furniture stores. We had arrived in Cabo with the misguided expectation that the furniture stores (and selection) would be similar to Seattle. There are many very large villas and condos here, after all, and they are furnished, so it seemed reasonable to expect stores filled with furniture. We found furniture stores but their stock most often consisted of samples rather than actual stock. We learned that is is very common to have to order furniture here, made to size for the area it will go in, and finished with custom upholstery, stains, and finishes. And it takes time. The 6 week delivery quote we received in November has stretched to over twelve weeks now for some of the items we ordered. The sofa, chair, and bed frames we received so far are beautiful, but we have learned to factor in manufacturing and delivery times into plans.
SunriseFirst sunset from our rooftop deck
Truth be told, it has been a week of agony and ecstasy, or more precisely, irritation and elation. The ecstasy part comes when we step outside to enjoy our views, during the hikes we’ve taken around our condo, and when we remind ourselves to stop and intentionally appreciate the fact that we are living in this beautiful area. I often rise before dawn, awakened by the deep hoots of a great horned owl. One morning, I crept up the outdoor staircase to the roof deck to try to see the owl; it was perched on the railing and we stared at each other briefly before it flew off. Humpback whales spout and breach offshore. The stars shine with such clear intensity that I feel like I can touch them. There are birds everywhere and, early one morning, I saw a bobcat silently cross the road and disappear into the desert brush.
Unplugged washer hoseKitchen mop upBubbling paint
The irritation is generally related to new construction issues in the condo. The first time I used the washing machine, I turned it on and we left for lunch. We returned to find an inch of water in the kitchen. Apparently someone forgot to connect the drain hose and water simply drained on the floor. And then we found that the washer didn’t actually work and got stuck on the wash cycle for hours on end; the warranty team requested a repairman who found a faulty motherboard and replaced it. And then there was the dryer that is gas powered (why gas and not electricity?) and didn’t work because it hadn’t been connected to the gas. And the dishwasher that didn’t work because the water was not connected. And the faucets where the hot and cold water taps are reversed (I’ve been promised that they will be fixed). And the jacuzzi with no filters. And then there was the sudden bubbling of paint in the master bedroom that started small and spread larger each day like an alien growth.
We started out by writing emails to inform the warranty coordinator of each new issue. No answer. We progressed to daily emails that listed again items that needed to be fixed and asked for a response. Nothing. We had brought our North American expectations of schedules, spreadsheets, and quick responses. Our frustration grew to the point that I demanded a replacement for things instead of simple repairs. No response. And then, like magic, yesterday morning, workers arrived and our condo has been a hive of activity these last two days. There is someone repairing and repainting the wall, a plumber has been called, jacuzzi filters are installed, and everything else is being addressed, even minor things I had forgotten. What have I learned this week? Adjust expectations but be persistent. Be patient. Be clear about details. And that when things get done unexpectedly you can go from agony to ecstasy, from low to high with gratitude.
Hiking again!The lighthouse
View from the topEl Faro Viejo and one of Quivira’s golf holes
We celebrated the end of our first week with a hike to the lighthouse on the hill behind our condo. The area is crisscrossed with hiking trails and dirt roads, and we had been told that one of the nicest hikes was to the lighthouse at the top of the hill and then down to the old lighthouse, or Faro Viejo, by the ocean. We started early since the sun is quite strong by mid morning. The small trail through desert brush was quiet and we admired the huge cardon cactuses that dot the landscape. Birds flitted between cactuses and perched on top of them, posing and singing. We saw a roadrunner ahead of us on the dirt path, and we could see whales in the ocean. The 360 degree view from the lighthouse made the climb worthwhile and I think this will be a frequent hike for us. From the top of the hill we walked down to the old lighthouse. We could hear the surf pounding against the rocky cliffs below the lighthouse. The lighthouse was built in 1905 and looks Spanish Colonial. It is in ruins, but the terrace which faces the ocean is used now for occasional yoga classes. Behind the Faro Viejo, the greens of the Quivira Golf Course wrap around the hill and seem impossibly bright against the desert landscape.
We have more ahead of us but, for now, today, all is good. We can look around and even start to smile a bit.
Maybe this is where our repair requests ended up?A handy bike rack
Our final day wasn’t really bittersweet and we agreed that we were ready to be finished with the walk. We felt we’d accomplished what we set out to do: see three National Parks in England and experience walking in the countryside. We felt strong and energetic, which was a good thing because the first two miles were a steady climb back up to the moors. After experiencing mud and bogs on the moors in previous places, we were grateful to walk on a quiet paved road for some of the time.
Morning climb out of Grosmont
The weather turned overnight and it was quite cold. “A bit brisk,” was the cheerful greeting when we met local hikers; “a bit brisk” included hail, sleet, rain, and wind which these hardy types seem to meet with glee. The bad spells didn’t last too long, though, and as we neared the coast of the North Sea, the sun came out.
I had 15.5 miles to ponder the final leg of the C2C today and about 8 miles before the official trail ended, I concluded that Alfred Wainwright was a hiking sadist. We passed a highway sign pointing south that informed us that Robin Hood’s Bay was 3.5 miles away. But not for us intrepid hikers! We had to go north first to get to the coastal trail so that we could really appreciate our arrival in Robin Hood’s Bay. I have to grudgingly admit that Wainwright was probably right; it was pretty spectacular and formed a fitting book end to our departure from St. Bee’s.
We had one final task, to dip the toe of our boots in the North Sea and to toss the rocks we had carried from the Irish Sea. A storm had arrived, and the storm surge from the ocean prevented anyone from going near the beach. We stood on a beach access road in charming Robin Hood’s Bay and met the waves as they came in. Rocks dutifully thrown, we headed out for a celebratory whiskey and pub dinner. Job well done, I say.
We walked, and then we walked some more. On the moors in the wind, and then through a few quiet villages. 14.5 miles and, thankfully, fairly flat. Both of us agreed that the highlight of the day was the walk up a gentle slope through the woods over stones worn down by centuries of walkers and packhorses. And the ginger cake with custard for dessert. And the whiskey. One more day!
Moors in the morning with a distant view of the North Sea.A shooting hut from 1891.A grouse in the North York Moors National Park
We woke to a beautiful sunrise over the charming town of Osmotherley.
Breakfast at The Golden Lion Inn
The Golden Lion Inn was a nice place to stay the night before our longest day on the C2C. It is quite old and the downstairs areas keep up the atmosphere of years gone by with candlelit tables both at dinner and at breakfast.
Osmotherley
Well fortified after yet another breakfast of eggs, sausage, and toast, we left Osmotherley. On the way, we appreciated the stately houses, then, midway up the first hill, walked with the cows for a bit.
A view of a couple of the Glorious Hills ahead
This was the beginning of the Glorious Hills, a series of six hills, one after the other, and each higher than the last. The ascents weren’t too bad but the descents were tricky as they were very steep and slippery.
At the top of the first hill, we met Graham, a well traveled gentleman from Kent whose extensive knowledge of politics, travel, birds, geology, pub names, moor vegetation, and local legends kept us going. We chatted until the last hill when he finished his three day hike and had to drive home. He’s the one who told us that the hills were called the Glorious Hills and I agreed wholeheartedly after the first hill. The second was kind of glorious, the third was not glorious, the fourth was hard, the fifth was another damn hill, and the sixth was a &$@ hill.
The paved Cleveland Way
On a brighter note, the route was clearly marked by flat rocks similar to paving stones. Graham explained that the stones came from disused cotton and woolen mills, were helicoptered to the hills, and were set by volunteers. The project was started in 1998 and is pretty amazing since the paved route goes on for miles up and down all the hills. For much of the day’s route, the C2C shares the trail with the Cleveland Walk, one of the UK’s National Walks, and this explains how well maintained it is.
At the top of one of the hills are the Wainstones, a striking jumble of pinnacled rocks jutting up from the moors. They are a popular place for rock climbing.
We said goodbye to Graham right before the last hill that took us to the top of Ulla Moor. We still had 8 miles to go and were concerned that it would get dark before we reached the night’s accommodation. We saw lots of grouse in the moors. We were happy to find that the last 5 miles were on the bed of a railroad track that is no longer used; the rails had been removed so the walking was relatively level. Unfortunately the wind really picked up and we got to experience the winds on the moors.
Our pace got slowed by an amazing sunset, and then we missed the turn off to The Lion Inn and reached a paved road in total darkness. I had a headlamp but was so tired after 20 miles and 3100 feet of total elevation gain (and loss) that I fell into dark despair. The Inn is very isolated and there was nothing anywhere around us — except darkness and the rising full moon. Scott, ever level headed, saved the day — or night — and took out his cell phone, turned on roaming (gasp!), and determined that our Inn was 12 minutes walking on the road over a small hill. Imagine my joy when, upon cresting that hill, I saw a well lighted place, yellow light spilling from its windows. The Lion Inn was built in the mid 1500’s and is a warren of low ceilinged public rooms with fireplaces. Thankfully our room was fully modern AND had a bathtub, praise be to modern conveniences.
One public room of The Lion Inn, High Blakey Moor
It was a challenging day for both of us. The cumulative miles and then the mileage today have given me blisters and other minor foot issues. But we did it. And really, it was a fabulous day. Two more days.
Our lodging in Danby Wiske consisted of twin beds in the guest room of a private house. We had our own private shower and a view of the owners’ small farm. The drawback? The hostess apologized but the only place to eat in town, The White Swan Inn, was closed Monday nights. No grocery stores either. The pizza restaurant five miles away wouldn’t deliver because it was too far. We made do with granola bars, slept well, and then devoured the delicious breakfast provided by our hostess in the morning. Not a great end to a rather frustrating day, but then some days are like that. As we left Danby Wiske, we walked by The White Swan Inn and appreciated the sign above the door (without forgiving the prior evening’s closure, of course).
Then it was into the fields we went. I know farmers must love the smell of manure mixed with rich soil because they envision the wonderful crops it will produce, but I think it is an acquired smell.
Needless to say, we were happy when about mile 7 of our scheduled 12 mile day we reached the Cleveland Hills and left farmland. On the way, we had a nice surprise when we saw one farmer’s gesture of friendliness.
We reached Ingleby Cross where the C2C enters The North York Moor National Park and we began our first real uphill in days. From a clearing near the top we could look back over the way we had come.
Near Ingleby Cross we met Stephen from Aberdeen, Scotland who was walking only as far as Osmotherley, our destination for the night. He had already done the last miles to Robin Hood’s Bay several times. He and his wife are avid hikers and had just finished a 9 1/2 month trip around the world where they had hiked in Nepal, SE Asia, India, New Zealand, California, and South America. He wanted to visit the ruins of the Mount Grace Priory on the way to Osmotherley and we decided to join him. Lucky for us, he had a GPS system that allowed us to eventually find (through a bit of trial and error) a little used path through the forest to the Priory. The Priory was founded in 1398 and completed after 1440. It housed about 15 hermit Carthusian monks who lived in separate cell like houses, each about 22 feet square with their own gardens. They had minimal contact with each other, were sponsored by wealthy families to pray for the families, and spent their days reading, meditating, writing, praying, and gardening. Sounds kind of nice, except for the isolation part.
Our side trip added several miles to our day but was well worth the effort. Tomorrow it’s THE MOORS. 20 miles. It gets dark around 7 now. I wish I hadn’t seen American Werewolf in London. It’s full moon tomorrow, October 24, too. Wish us luck.
I started the day with this delicious English breakfast (minus the baked beans). And toast. I was ready for the day but reluctant to leave our comfortable B and B and interesting Richmond. We had a 14 mile day ahead of us and we left Richmond at 9 am. It’s been a bit of a joke between us that no matter how far we have to walk each day, we seem to arrive at our destination around 5. Not a bad 9 to 5 gig.
The morning was sunny and clear. We had one last glance at Richmond Castle high above the River Swale, and then walked over more pastures and more fields than at any other time on the C2C. This is low country and it is covered with some pastures, but most is arable acres of wheat, oats, and barley. Alfred Wainwright called it “the dullest part of the whole walk”.
Although it was easy terrain, it was also easy to lose the path. Our 14 mile route turned into 17 with a few unplanned detours as we followed what we thought was the correct trail. There are so many signed footpaths, and that is how they are signed: Footpath! At one point a woman walking her dogs informed us that we were “a bit off track,” and, at another point, a man stopped his car to see if we needed directions to the C2C. Fortunately, we were able to regain the correct trail easily. We did visit a beautiful 14th century church, St. Mary’s Church in Bolton-on-Swale.
St. Mary’s Church, Bolton-on-Swale
We also saw the outside of Kiplin Hall, a hunting lodge built in 1620 for James I’s Secretary of State, George Calvert. The grounds are extensive and there are many buildings on the estate built from red brick, but none are as elaborate as the main house which is unique in Jacobean architecture.
Kiplin Hall, Kiplin
Tuesday, Day 14, will be more of the same until the end of the day when we reach the Cleveland Hills and the beginning of the hills in the North York Moors.
We are staying at the Willance Guest House once owned by Robert Willance. Above Whitckiffe Wood which we walked through yesterday is Willance’s Leap. In 1606 Willance was riding a young mare who may have been spooked by something and she leaped over a limestone precipice with Robert in the saddle. The mare died, sadly, and Robert’s leg was badly broken and had to be amputated. Willance went on to be the first alderman, or mayor, of Richmond. The area of the accident has been known since as Willance’s Leap. Willance died in this house in 1616. It is another wonderful guest house with kind hosts who make delicious shortbread and brown bread, and who received an award for one of the best breakfasts in the UK. It was delicious!
We went off to explore Richmond Castle this morning. It is a massive Norman Castle, mostly in ruins, and exactly what I think a castle should look like. It has massive walks, a tall square tower, and the ruins of a Great Hall that invites visitors to imagine noisy medieval feasts and parties. Construction of the castle began in 1069 and it is now known as one of the finest examples of Norman building in Britain. There is even a legend that King Arthur and his Knights are sleeping in a cave under the castle. I knew I could sense Lancelot nearby!
The Great Hall
After the castle we strolled the town and sampled local bakery items. If you like dry scone-like pastries, this is the place for you. Thankfully we still had some Kennedy chocolates from Orton.
View of Richmond from the Castle towerRichmond StreetWaterfall, or “force,” over the River Swale below Richmond Castle
We walked by this encouraging hand painted sign today. Thank you Anonymous Well-Wisher! Another day without rain. In fact, by the time we reached Richmond, it was positively warm — and sunny. It was a day much like yesterday: leafy trails along the river, quiet paved one lane roads, sheep, and the sounds of birds and rustle of leaves. As usual, we went through many gates and over many stiles; some of the stiles were quite narrow!
Yorkshire is beautiful, gentle, peaceful. It all looks like a J. M. W. Turner painting. Being Saturday, we met a few locals out for walks with their dogs and a party of hunters who we think were hunting pheasants.
We hiked a little over 12 miles, but it was an easy day and we arrived in Richmond by 3. Richmond is the largest town on the Coast to Coast route and the Richmond Castle built in 1071 dominates the town. Among several notable places to visit is the Georgian Theatre Royal. Built in 1788, it is the UK’s oldest working theatre and the only Georgian theatre with its original interior. We were able to take a tour, and it was a pleasure to see it. British Royals are quite fond of this tiny place and there is a Royal Box where they sit when attending performances (the box is surprisingly simple and plain). Dame Judi Dench is the theatre’s president.
Grocery shopping has been a challenge without a car. It is too far and too hot to walk into central Cabo to the closest market. Lucky for us, La Comer has a delivery service. It took me several tries to figure out the online ordering system. Dictionary in hand, I would choose items and think I had them loaded into my cart only to find that a) I hadn’t really added them, b) I had added ten of one item, or c) I hadn’t properly logged in so my full cart didn’t really exist. Scott suggested I use the experience as an opportunity to improve my Spanish cursing vocabulary. An empty refrigerator was a great motivator, though, and I managed to place an order for delivery. The next challenge came when I received phone calls to ask me if it was okay to substitute X for Y (I think) and to let me know certain items were out of stock. It is one thing to try to communicate face to face. It is much more challenging to understand a foreign language over the phone without the aid of facial expressions, body language, and gestures. The food was delivered at the delivery time I requested by two lovely ladies and we got what I had ordered. I am very happy that this modern service is available here.
At the top of the first hill, we met Graham, a well traveled gentleman from Kent whose extensive knowledge of politics, travel, birds, geology, pub names, moor vegetation, and local legends kept us going. We chatted until the last hill when he finished his three day hike and had to drive home. He’s the one who told us that the hills were called the Glorious Hills and I agreed wholeheartedly after the first hill. The second was kind of glorious, the third was not glorious, the fourth was hard, the fifth was another damn hill, and the sixth was a &$@ hill.
At the top of one of the hills are the Wainstones, a striking jumble of pinnacled rocks jutting up from the moors. They are a popular place for rock climbing.
The Blue True Dream of Sky 