Fun
Man suffers only because he takes seriously what the gods made for fun…Alan Watts
Assuredly it’s merely a minor revelation to admit that while walking England’s Coast to Coast trail over the past 15 days I’ve been reflecting, at least a smidgen, on the notion of fun. Some might wonder (politely to themselves of course) why it’s taken me so long, and that choosing to walk over 330 kms with an overall elevation gain equivalent to climbing Mt Everest, in the UK, in the Spring, is ample evidence that some remedial fun study should unquestionably be prescribed. We’ve had several locals say things like: “Whatcha playin' at toddling off from a stunner like Canada to splosh around in this sodden mess. Y’lost ya marbles?” Actually they generally just offer a cordial “y’alright?” but this is what we presume they mean by that question. And so I’ve wondered, what is it about this long distance walk that makes being lost, wet, sore, cold and tired, well, fun?
Much greater minds than mine have asked similar questions about the nature of fun. And obviously there are significant variances between what people consider fun, even from one day to the next. So I realized as I laughed on trails that had previously been serving as mud-wrestling pits, or got whipped in the face by another wet gale-force blast, or woke up each morning stiff and groaning, that it would be a mistake to take such an experience as a walk like this, one as substantial as a full Yorkshire breakfast, and reduce it to some sort of piece of toast truism. All meaning would be lost because when it comes down to it, fun is far too small a word. Here’s 5 things that made this a fun adventure for us.
Finding a simple rhythm. It’s deeply satisfying when all you need is in the pack on your back and your thoughts are focused only on each other, trail finding, food, and moving purposefully towards an identifiable goal: your destination. Being on the journey becomes increasingly all-embracing and freeing. It’s something like the flow experience which while certainly fun is more short term. This is a deeper, resonating, unhurried pulse that beats more powerfully as the days go by.
Being outside in the elements all day. We walked long days, taking plenty of stops to rest, take pictures, and weather permitting, enjoy the picturesque views. Some areas felt wild, others pastoral. In the dales, fells, and particularly the moors, finding dry ground to sit on was challenging. We got out of the wind by sheltering on the leeward side of stone fences. We were fortunate to stop at churches in some small villages where benches and even covered entries offered much appreciated hospitality. We felt at times like hobos. Despite one death-defying highway crossing and the occasional busy roadway linking parts of the trail, it’s been quiet and peaceful. The sky, the land, the rain and wind all become like creatures asking to play with us.
Watching spring arrive. We started walking the peaks in the Lakes District where it felt like late winter with fresh snow falling and hailstorms. By the time we reached the east coast leaves greened full with the potential of the season, asserting their importance with an optimistic freshness. Cherry blossoms and wildflowers were on fully display as proud as the pheasants we constantly saw out swaggering in colours and hollering like strangled crows. We walked through countless fields full of newborn, awkward lambs. They are curious and try to approach but their mom’s quickly call them away. We feel part of this spring greening despite the rainy days.
Novel experiences, surprises, and history. Some really have asked us why we’ve come all this way to do a long-distance walk. Of course Canada’s resplendent wilderness is a tremendous joy, but there are so many other amazing places in the world to visit. We’ve had so much fun ending our days in small villages where we’ve had tender steak and guinness stews, spicy hot curries, and comforting shepard’s pies. It’s been a walk to evoke memories. I thought about Sunday roast dinners with Yorkshire pudding and gravy, at my grandparents as a child. We remembered all the great books we’ve loved that were set in the moors including: The Secret Garden, Jane Eyre, and of course Wuthering Heights. We walked beside 4000-year-old stone barrows and visited 1000-year-old abandoned Abbeys. We trod stone paths and Roman Roads, and stopped at a charming teashop in the woods beside a roaring waterfall where we ate freshly baked scones with delicious clotted cream and homemade jam. We felt immersed in a Britain we’ve read about and inherited through our parents and grandparents.
Feeling like part of a team or community. We’ve been surprised at how few people we’ve seen on the walk. In at least half the places we stayed we were the only guests. We walked for hours without seeing another person on the trail. But when we do it is fun to compare notes, share tips, commiserate about the weather, and connect as humans from different parts of the world finding joy in the adventure. We met many trail runners, including a 68-year-old gentleman jogging in the moors who told us he took up running 7 years ago when he weighed 12 stone. He now weighs 7 stone and because in a recent long distance Coast to Coast race he didn’t meet his goal of running the whole 192 miles in under 68 hours (he was 68:50) he is going to try again on his own in July. Another local walker who was out for a day hike had already walked the trail multiple times in both directions and was going to do it again in 2025 to celebrate it officially becoming a National Trail.
Alan Watts quote suggests that there’s another way to look at the idea of fun. It’s not doing one thing over another. Instead it’s the art of responding to life's capricious script. Maybe it’s all a divine comedy. We finished the Coast to Coast Trail over 15 days of walking. Like life it was challenging, beautiful, rewarding, and for us, a deluge of the kind of fun that washes winter, age and dullness away. Oh and we arrived on the coast to this:
What will we do next? Put it this way - you know how much we value spontanaity and following our instincts. So… we cancelled all of our carefully booked upcoming accommodations, trains, and flights to Ireland, including our flight home from Dublin. And because surprises are fun, stay tuned!
Travel Notes
Geography fun fact – looking out over the North Sea from Robin Hood’s Bay I initially wondered how far it is across to France. I realized that I was probably north of France, so maybe Holland. I was surprised when I looked it up and discovered that its 600 kilometers straight across to Denmark.
Storm Katherine brought gale force winds for days. We were told by one innkeeper that there had been 3 inches of rain in 24 hours. We heard from many locals that “it’s barely stopped raining since last July”.
About half-way through our walk Sharon slipped in the shower. She saved herself from falling but kicked the wall and broke a toe. Her hip was hurting, and her toe was aching, but she “was fine”.
·We visited Whitby, a town just 10km north of Robin Hoods Bay where we are staying. We learn that apart from being the home of the spooky ruins of a 12th century abbey, and just generally a picturesque and busy ancient village, it is where Bram Stoker was inspired to write Dracula. They host the world’s largest Goth festival there each year.
·The trail is not well marked. I had good luck using an app with the trail data uploaded. However, in the pouring rain, just navigating an iPhone is no easy task. Screens don’t respond to wet fingers and raindrops. That said we only got lost once.
We stayed in many fantastic places but the 400 year old Lion Inn is such a welcome sight sitting all alone atop Blakey Ridge, high up in the moors. Perhaps it was the especially rainy and windy day we had, so finally arriving there, people huddled around the fire to warm up, good ales on tap, great hospitality, it was wonderful. So too were Park House, Clay Top Huts, Lulus, and The Royal Oak.
The Coast to Coast Walk
Day 1: St Bees to Ennerdale Bridge. 26 km
Day 2: Ennerdale Bridge to Roswaithe. 26 km
Day 3: Roswaithe to Grasmere, 18 km
Day 4: Grasmere to Haweswater. 26 km
Day 5: Haweswater to Orton. 24 km
Day 6: Orton to Kirkby Stephens. 22 km
Day 7: Rest day
Day 8: Kirby Stephens to Keld. 20 km
Day 9: Keld to Reeth. 22 km
Day 10: Reeth to Richmond. 18 km
Day 11: Richmond to Danby Wiske. 24 km
Day 12: Danby Wiske to Ingleby Arncliffe. 16 km
Day 13: Ingleby Arncliffe to Clay Banks. 21 km
Day 14: Clay Bank to Blakey Ridge. 15 km
Day 15: Blakey Ridge to Grasmere. 23 km
Day 16: Grasmere to Robin Hood’s Bay. 24 km