Reeth to Richmond

I learned halfway along our hike today that our destination is not the Richmond from Ted Lasso, darn! Woke up to a clear sunny day in Reeth. Went down to breakfast in the back of the pub and afterward stepped outside outside into totally cloudy sky threatening rain. No wonder weather is hard to predict here. Our hike was 11 miles and varied like yesterday- some river bank, some ups through pastures, into higher grassy areas, stone fence stiles, stepping stones up through small forests. etc. The 4 Aussies caught up to us and we walked a bit together then had “tea” with them at a bench in one of the little hamlets we passed through. We caught up with them a second time at their lunch and said our goodbyes- as the Richmond valley was in view and they have a rest day tomorrow in Richmond while we are pressing on. It is sad to leave them. Besides young Rachel, we’ve enjoyed the company of Mark, Ruth, Greg and Gaye the most on this trip. And now, who knows who we will meet and draw close to- or perhaps it will be “just us” for the next 70 miles. We shall see! As for the walk, I hate to say it but it was much of the same wonderfulness so I’ll just show it in photos below. The Richmond experience warrants a bit more ink. Left Reeth this morning about 9am and arrived Richmond 2:30pm. Richmond is the largest town on the hike at about 8,000 people. Like Reeth, it is centered on a main cobbled center town “square” (in Reeth’s case, though, it’s a triangle, and Richmond a circle) with an old church in the very center of the circle and walkable streets with a combo of quaint and ordinary shops and restaurants radiating out from the circle. There is also a large castle with a tower and accompanying wall ruins just outside the city circle, behind the first row off shops. Tom and I wandered around in a bit of a daze, found a post office and wrote a few cards to send off, picked up some toothpaste at the pharmacy and ended up at Granny’s Cafe with tables in a skinnier alley off a skinny alley. The tiny little shop was loaded with tarts and quiches and scones and brownies and all manner of amazing goodies, even including a “cornflakes tart,” a pie shell crust, layer of jam and a heaping pile of cornflakes with something sticky holding it all together on top. Whoa. We opted instead for a strawberry and cream scone, and a quiche and salad. It was a little chilly in the alley but each chair came with it’s own crocheted afghan granny lap blanket. Perfect!. We then headed to the Richmond Castle, not having read our guide book about whether it had hours or admission. I suppose I was so convinced in my head that it was just a walk up and explore on your own anytime sort of experience that I was shocked to see there was an admission building, shop and staff. I checked my watch. 4:40pm. Castle closes at 5:00pm. Good, we just made it! Wait… sign says last entry is 4:30pm. Oh no. We tried some crocodile tears with the 3 staff at the entry, saying we’d come all the way from Seattle, WA and they just said, “sorry, you’ll have to come back tomorrow at 10am.” Aw, that just doesn’t work with our morning marching orders to head on down the trail at a decent hour. Ok, I reminded us, it’s ok, we still have plenty of other castles, ruins, historical buildings to see. We’ll be ok. But, I”m sure Tina and Peter won’t forgive us- I think the Richmond Castle was a highlight for them. Boo boo. But, you know, in our defense, this whole experience continues to be like drinking from a fire hose. There is so much to see, do, think about, plan for, anticipate, etc that sometimes the obvious things will slip through our hands. It can all be quite overwhelming (in a good way) Our check-in at the Castle House was a comedy of errors. We arrived early (we didn’t know what time to check in), called, and the owner directed us via phone how to get in and find our room and put our breakfast order in on a little slip of paper by the guest book.Our bags hadn’t arrived yet and a delivery guy was simultaneously trying to deliver a package, to no avail. After puttering around town, we came back and there was confusion about where our bags were, other guests were arriving and Tom was jumping in to help them with their bags up the stairs sloping in all directions. A woman who claimed not to be the owner (but didn’t say who she was other than to make it known she wouldn’t be here tonight or in the morning).was friendly but very spacey, took orders from all of us for complimentary drinks. She said she’d call to check on our bags without giving us any confidence she would actually do so. Meanwhile, our room is TINY and like a fun house. The floor in our TINY room slopes at odd angles every couple feet. The wardrobe, dressers, and classic garage style hanging artwork each have picked a unique direction to slump, and the door latch is so bent because the casing on the wall is 2 inches higher than the latch on the door. Somehow it actually locks, though. It’s truly a miracle. I asked Tom, “I wonder when you purchase property like this, at what point is it acceptable or even feasible to try to fix it. I mean, do people just get used to wobbly buildings? Would you be laughed at if you tried to bring in a structural engineer or a foundation expert?” Maybe I’m just being oversensitive, having grown up and lived in earthquake territory and am used to the constant mantra of retrofitting. Does England, with it’s wonky, crumbly, crackly ancient stone buildings ever have earthquakes? Upon reflection later, the whole Castle House B and B experience was much like living on a boat: navigating very small spaces and the feeling of being at sea with waves changing the direction of the floor and wall angles with regularity.