Litter picking, a whole new world

Pick sticks are like buses, you wait ages for one, then two come at once, ha ha :-) I mentioned my new hobby to my friend, and she said 'There's a stick in my front porch you can have, you should have said so before.' So now I have got two.

The top one is the council stick. I have been out today to test drive them. I used the council stick for an hour this morning, and the other one for half an hour this afternoon. Overall I found the council stick easier to use because the jaw opens both top and bottom, and the round shape is ideal for picking up cans and bottles. However, the bottom stick grips tiny items like ring pulls much better due to the overlap of the plastic covered ends. Both are quite comfortable to use, not too heavy, and you don't have to put a lot of presure on the trigger to get them to grip tightly.

First of all I took a black bin bag out with me and put everything into it, but it soon became quite heavy with the bottles. I want to recycle the clean cans, and plastic and glass bottles, but this means sorting it out when I get back, and of course all the filthy stuff has contaminated the newish items which were still clean as they have only recently been discarded.

On my second session I took a largish carrier bag instead, and this made it easier to carry, then I tipped the rubbish into the bin bag when I got back. I have learnt to turn the drinks cans upside down as I pick them up because they might be full of water if they have been lying there for some time. Also crisp packets can have water in them as well. Tomorrow I'm going to take two or three carrier bags out with me so I can keep the clean recyclable stuff separate. This litter picking is all very technical.

I have been doing a bit of research into it, and I have discovered that pick sticks come in several models with lots of different features. There is the Nifty Nabber, the Trashstick, and the Ez Grabber. Some have a four finger trigger, or a rotating shaft, or a magnetic end. I quite fancy the model with the intellilight, that's a light on the end which comes on automatically when you retrieve something from dark, hard to reach places. Cool eh! You can have non slip flexible rubber gripper cups, a rotating head, and a locking feature, with a choice of length, 24ins, 27ins, or 32ins. Blimey, which one is best, it's almost as difficult as choosing a new dress.

Did you know there is a web site just for litter pickers? You can send your photo and they will put it on. And I was worried that people might think I am a bit barmy, it's comforting to know there are a lot more like me out there, I am not alone.
www.litterheroes.co.uk

If I feel this job is a bit beyond me, I can go on a training course with Keep Britain Tidy. I can join their Network, and go to their annual conference in Manchester. It's a pity I have missed this years though, it takes place today and tomorrow. I wonder if they have any litter picker competitions, now that would be exciting :0)

It's all a load of rubbish

I had to be a bit organised this morning, as I was due to give a talk to the members of a Probus club, near Doncaster, and punctuality is not one of my strong points. No pottering around in my slobby clothes today, I needed to smarten myself up and look a bit respectable. My talk was about simple living, recycling, and living within your means. I visited this group about a year ago, they made me very welcome and I had a great time, so I was looking forward to seeing them all again.

I took along some props to illustrate my talk, a selection of items I have made out of recycled rubbish. The room was very big so they fixed me up with one of those radio microphones, and after the committe reports I was called upon to do my bit. I normally talk without notes, but as this is a newish talk I thought it sensble to jot down a few words, just in case I dried up. I needn't have worried.

Everything went according to plan, they are such a cheeky lot, and the banter made it so much easier for me. It is a pleasure to do when the audience is only there to enjoy themselves. Afterwards I joined them in the bar for a glass of lemonade, and the jokes were coming thick and fast. It was a great way to spend a Monday morning, all I've got to do now is design another talk for next year :o)

Hooray, I have got my litter picking stick from the council, I found it when I got back, along with loads of black sacks. I must say I am a little bit disappointed though, on closer inspection I see they have not given me a new one, it is second hand. Surely if they can afford to install a brand new massive flat screen tv in the reception area of the main offices, they could buy me a new stick, especially as I've had to wait nearly four weeks for it. Oh well, looks as if I am out litter picking tomorrow, I'll let you know how I get on.

Meet the boss, just for today

I'm not getting a lot done today, here is the culprit. Daren't take my eyes off him for too long as he's into all kinds of mischief. No Henry, you can't eat the mouse.

Plenty of walks though, up early in the woods for an hour, rest for a couple of hours when I can perhaps do a bit of sewing. Then he wakes up and wants to join in.

He is so intelligent and a bit cheeky. He usually comes to me when I call him, but if he decides that he must jump into water, he dashes around frantically trying to find some. It could be a filthy ditch with a couple of inches of mud trickling through, or a pond a couple of feet deep. He always comes with a towel in his overnight bag, this is for drying him off when we get back. Off out again in five minutes. He is lying by my side waiting for the words, 'Do you want to go out?'

Last night we were out for the, just before bed time walk, and who should we meet but Mr Beasley, well it had to be didn't it! I called him and he came towards me, hesitating when he saw Henry, who wanted to play. He thinks all cats will play now, because mine are quite happy with him being around. Mr Beasley hissed a bit and kept his distance, so I called him to follow me. Of course the fella was hungry so he followed us back home.

Mr B immediately scoffed two pouches of Felix, and I rang his owner. It was nearly half past ten, and if Henry hadn't been there I would have kept him till the morning. Five minutes later a car came and he was whisked back home.....again.

Right must go, my every move is being scrutinised as Henry waits in anticipation, he is gorgeous.

There's always Hope

Good morning, and it looks like it's going to be another lovely day again. I am not going far this weekend because Henry choc lab is coming for a sleepover, so I am getting on with this post before he comes bounding through the front door wanting lots of fuss and attention.

Sorry I didn't get to post yesterday, I went on another excursion. I set off for Derbyshire even though the weather wasn't particularly pleasant. A bit overcast, drizzly, and gloomy. Going through Sheffield I thought about giving up as the rain drowned everyone going to work, but I carried on through Hathersage and Bamford, and parked at Hope outside this lovely church. The rain had eased off by the time I was ready to set off for my walk.

I had it in mind to gain a bit of height today, but it looked like the weather was not going to allow me any fantastic views. Oh well, you never know, the misty clouds might lift, and the sun might just show it's face, I live in Hope, ha ha. I took a path out of the village towards Lose Hill and met an elderley couple walking in the opposite direction. Most walkers are cheerfull and it was lovely to spend a few minutes chatting to this sprightly couple. They told me they are in their late seventies, live in Sheffield, and come walking three times a week. I hope I am doing the same when I reach their age, wonderfull stuff. They seemed quite knowledgeble about the area and pointed out Mam Tor, quite a big hill. I thought, that's where I will be heading for.

This is one of many stiles to cross, you can see Lose Hill in the distance. The rain started again and I stopped to put my waterproof over trousers on, which immediately inflated with the wind whipping around me. I looked up to the heavens and shouted, 'now rain all you like because I don't care, I am ready, and I'm going up there', ha ha.

Onward and upward, head down, one step at a time. I was in my own little world thinking there was only me daft enough to do this, when something caught my attention in the corner of my eye. I glanced sideways to see a young twenty something woman in skimpy sports gear, pony tail dancing in the wind, picking her way over the rocks and grass. She was running like the wind towards the top. After that I saw quite a few other people, I definately wasn't alone.

Here I am almost at the top, it would have been a lovely view, if........

Here is the top of Lose Hill. The wind and rain were buffeting me from the side, thank goodness I had this stone to hold on to. I didn't dare step too close to the edge. It's a wonder the photo turned out, I couldn't even hold the camera steady.

This is the path away from Lose Hill, looking towards Mam Tor. It looks neat and tidy doesn't it. Some of the badly eroded sections have been repaired and replaced with large stone slabs. Mam Tor is lost in the mist. Just as I was setting off again another lone walker appeared. He looked a big bloke so I asked if I could walk with him for a while across the exposed top, as I was in fear of being blown off. Well that was my excuse anyway:0) He was a pleasant chap. I let him go on alone after about fifteen minutes as he was in training for an endurance walk, and I didn't want to hold him back. I know how seriously these fitness fanatics take their walking.

At last it was beginning to brighten up a bit and I caught a glimpse of the highest peak, Mam Tor. You can see it at the top of the picture, it's still got a bit of snow left on it. I stopped at this big rock for a bite to eat, as it gave some shelter from the wind. You can see a line of walkers coming along. When I set off again I passed them all, having lunch in a sheltered spot behind those trees.

This is the view I had as I had my lunch, beautiful isn't it?

Off I went again, the weather is getting better.

Some nice views on each side, a little bit of sun, lighting up the wonderful tapestry below me.

A little bit of blue sky.

Mam Tor is getting closer now. I let two walkers overtake me, their chattering was irritating. As far as I'm concerned the only way to enjoy this spiritual place is to be completely alone with nature. I'm not religious, but this is God's heaven.

Getting closer, this stone marks Hollins Cross. It's a place where many footpaths meet, there is a quick way down to the bottom from here.

Now I'm in a quandry, do I take the grassy cycle path or the foot path? It doesn't matter, they run along side each other. I choose to walk on the cycle path, easier on the knees and boots.

Whew! Here I am, arrived at the top. I didn't take any more pictures because I have already taken enough, and any more would have been the same.

Nobody up here, so I took a picture of myself.

To complete my anti clockwise big circle on the map, I descended at this point, and set off in a southerly direction, over Windy Knoll, across the fields, crossing Limestone Way, and heading towards Bradwell. I skirted around a limestone quarry, and took a path which went alongside a massive works. There was huge buildings and sheds on both sides, a tall chimney which dominated the skyline, and enclosed conveyor belts crossing the path overhead. The monotonous droning of the machinery was in complete contrast to the stillness I had just left behind. I wondered how the people living in the houses close by could live with this noise in the background every minute of every day. I shouldn't complain, we have to be gratefull for the jobs it gives to people. At least they had marked out the footpath to make getting past it easy.

A short walk back into Hope, and I was ready to leave at ten past five. Total distance walked - 10.25 miles. Timed just right to call in at Tesco on the way in, and get my reduced price shopping. I also had a £6 off voucher on a £40 spend, so I went round with pen and paper adding up as I filled my trolley. Got some smashing bargains, so I'm happy.

An aquired taste

I bought a packet of this organic three grain bread because I remember mum getting something like it sent over in a food parcel from Germany, when I was a mere slip of a girl. It came in a box with a lot of other weird and wonderful food items. Mum was so pleased when it arrived as it reminded her of home. Of course we were excited as well because there was often some German sweeties and chocolate for us to fight over.

We tried everything in the parcel, but weren't impressed with the bread that looked and tasted like cork table mats, so mum always ate the whole packet herself. I wondered if the taste had improved over the years so I got this to try.

On the packet it says it contains rye, oats, and barley, linseed, sesame seed, and apple fibre. It has no preservatives, is low in fat, and high in fibre, and is vegetarian, so it's got to be good for you. So why does it still taste blooming horrible :-0 You'd have thought after all this time, about 50 years to be precise, they could make it a bit more palatable. Never mind, I shall soldier on with it and eat every last crumb, even if I have to force it down my throat. .

I popped in Asda the other day as I was passing, just to check out the 'whoopsies'. For those who don't know what a whoopsie is, it's when their buying department gets in too many of an item and no one wants to buy it so they have to get rid of it at a reduced price or they will be lumbered with it and have to bin it. Whoopsa daisy we have made a cock up here, better get rid quick, ha ha.

Anyway, I bought these two fruits in a bag for 30p. Haven't the faintest idea what they are, I got them because they were cheap. They are quite big, green and red with a smooth skin, and yellow flesh. It tastes a bit like pineapple. Anyone know what they are?

English Journey

My first thought when I wake up each morning is, 'what day is it?' Without fail I ask myself that question. This is one luxury I am very gratefull for, to be able to spend half an hour or so gently emerging from my sleep and quietly contemplating what the day ahead might bring. I am in complete control, how I fill the hours and minutes is entirely up to me. After ten months of retirement I never dreamed it could be this wonderfull.

Some people fear the day they have to stop going to work, the routine of clocking in every morning, chatting with their work colleagues and tasks to be completed, it all gives a purpose to life. I used to be the same, I remember I laughed at the older drivers when they said they couldn't wait to get out. I was so in love with the job I joked that as long as I could climb into the cab with the aid of my zimmer frame, I would carry on driving till the end.

So what changed? Well I am convinced it wasn't me. I have thought about it long and hard. I still have that craving for freedom of movement which the job gave me. I still have an appetite for exploration and learning. I still have the confidence required to do the job and the intelligence to work alone, to make decisions, and to do what I think best. It's the job that has changed.

I find the whole work ethic fascinating, and have recently found this interesting book which gives detailed descriptions of many workplaces throughout the UK. I haven't read any J B Priestley before but I am really getting into this. English Journey was first published in 1934 and is just as relevant today as it was then. His journey starts in Southampton, then Bristol, Swindon, Cotswolds, Birmingham, the Midlands, Yorkshire, Lancashire, the North East, and back down to Lincoln and Norfolk. He gave up driving after crashing into a lamp post, and used rail, motor bus, and a chauffeur driven car for his wanderings. Maybe the modern day equivelant would be to do it on a bus pass :o)

The book paints fascinating pictures of work places. What I like about it is the down to earth, plain speaking descriptions. There is no political correctness, he says what he thinks. Of the Potteries he says, 'Undignified and ugly little towns, the rows of dingy dolls houses, the narrow streets that lead from one dreariness to another'.

He visited a hosiery factory in Leicester, detailing the tedious piece-work that the girls spent hours at. The manager explained, 'In his experience girls preferred purely routine and monotonous jobs because once they learnt the fairly simple necessary movements they could then work all day and think about something else while they were working'. I remember doing piece-work myself, in a toilet roll factory. I don't think they call it piece-work any more, it's called targets, ahhh, the dreaded targets:0(


And so today, I have no piece work, I have no targets. Good or bad? I don't know. Maybe I'll set myself a few goals, who knows. Perhaps I'll roller skate around the UK and write the follow up to this book, ha ha.

Plain crazy

I've been kerb crawling round the industrial estates today, looking for stuff for the Scrapstore. It's very sad that such a lot of warehouses and factories lie empty, with For Sale or To Let boards on the front of them. The way this recession is going I can't see them being occupied ever again. Such a waste and such a shame that they are left to crumble into disrepair, and become derelict. No wonder people's moral is low when they have to pass these eyesore buildings, day in day out.

I visited eight businesses with my begging bowl, and managed to fill my car with cardboard tubes, offcuts from two sign makers, massive rolls of paper, and loads of plastic buckets with lids, from a food processing factory.

I am going to take a small step ladder with me next time because I nearly fell into a skip. Also, when I get the litter picker I will be able to use that to retrieve items I can't reach. I had to rummage around amongst a lot of disgustingly smelly plastic and carboard packaging, to reach the large buckets which were near the bottom. Some of them had pieces of cooked potatoes in them, and no I didn't bring them home for my dinner, ha ha. The food comes into the factory in these buckets, they repackage it into small portions, and the buckets get chucked. I thought that was terrible, what a waste of perfectly good buckets.

I must say a lot of firms are extremely good at recycling their waste, especially if they can sell it on. But some can't be bothered and send it to landfill in a skip. I heard a story from one guy at a kitchen and bedroom furniture maker, which really annoyed me. Apparently they had been giving their wood offcuts to someone for their wood burner, and someone from the council had seen this person collect his firewood. The company was prosecuted and taken to court and fined.

He didn't say why, but I know our council is very heavy handed where rules and regulations are concerned. I had a few discussions with them when I was starting a business, about how I was going to dispose of my trade waste. I wanted to recycle my very small amounts of tins, cardboard, glass, and plastics in the appropriate bins at a collection point. Shock horror, you can't do that. You need a trade waste bin which will be emptied every week, the contents will go to landfill and you will pay for it! I told them where to stick it. In the end I didn't start the business it was far too much hassle.

In fact I am sure that if the council found out that I am removing stuff from skips, (with the owners permission of course), they would find a way to put a stop to it. Waste from business premises is dealt with in a completely different way to household waste. The council are always on our backs to sort our own waste and recycle everything, because of the cost of putting it into landfill. Yet they think nothing of chucking whole skip loads into a big hole without sorting it out. It is just plain crazy to me.

Nude vegetables

Well that's my lodger gone then, and I'm just munching my way through this lot. Have you noticed the asparagus, posh eh! Can't remember the last time I had this delicacy, it's far too expensive for me, but you've probably guessed, it was reduced. 52p instead of £1.50. I'm going to stretch it over three meals.

This meal is typical of what I eat most nights, a big plate of steamed veg, with an addition of something or other. This time it's a grilled salmon portion.

I must say, whenever I eat out, which isn't very often these days, the veg is usually boiled to bits and tasteless. I never buy tinned veg except the odd tin of mushy peas, and the only frozen veg I buy is sweetcorn, and peas. All other frozen veg is soggy and has no taste, yuk !

So this is my simple, good for you dinner, asparagus, potatoes, carrots, peas, cabbage, salmon. No faffing with sauce, gravy, or any other dressings. Nude vegetables are fantastic.

Oh What A Beautiful Morning

I have a confession to make, I didn't sleep alone last night. At 6.30am my companion jumped all over me, so I had to get up because I was not going to be allowed any more shuteye. What can you do, I had no choice but to climb out of my nest, gulp down half a cup of coffee, with beady eyes watching my every movement, untill we stepped out of the front door.

'Come on Auntie, hurry up, I've got my legs crossed here'

Five minutes later we were in the woods, boots crunching through the dry winter twigs, with frost glistening in the morning sun.

I love mornings, it's the best part of the day. This morning everything is bright and sparkly, and fresh and crisp. Blue sky with the sun peeping out between the trees, what more could you wish for :-)

'Was that a rabbit I saw just there'.

In my head I hear the song 'Oh What A Beautiful Morning' and I can't help singing it out loud. I think it's going to be a lovely day.

What am I?

I've had a meeting today in my new role as 'artist', yes, that is what I am now calling myself, amongst other things, ha ha. I went to see Jo who has something to do with running the arts centre in town, not sure if she is the big boss but she seems to be in charge.

She is interested in my craft work, particularly the articles I have made with recycled rubbish, which is most of it, so I took along a couple of bags full of stuff to show her. She liked it, and we discussed how it would fit in with some of their exhibitions and workshops.

It would fit in well with a recycling project they are planning for July, so I said I would be happy to go along and display my work and talk to the visitors who are interested. There is also the possibility of exhibiting some of the items in a glass display case.

The Scrapstore will be tied in with this also. I am really excited about the opportunity to pass on ideas so that other people might be inspired to try and make things as well. The most important message though is to think about what we are throwing away, and that everything should be used again wherever possible.

Now I have to think of a title for myself which reflects what I do, to go into the next brochure, so what do I call myself? Meanqueen does not sound right. I need a title which says, 'making something new out of something that has been thrown away'. Junk Collector, Rubbish Recycler, Recycling Queen, Recycling Guru, Crafty Recycler, Rubbish Remodeller??? Help :0) Any ideas please post here. Ta very much.

A wonderful place

I hope this is not getting too boring for you, I was going to think of something else to write about, but.....I went for a walk instead :0) another five miles. Maybe I should give the camera a rest for a few days, but like walking, photography can be quite addictive. I thought it would be a good idea to take photographs which remind us of the wonderful place we live in.

I spotted these pretty catkins today. I am high up overlooking the River Trent at Alkborough, less than three miles from my house. This is one of my favourite walks.

Spring is definately coming. Mother nature is waking up the woodland plants and flowers once again. How sweet the snowdrops are, pushing their way up through the carpet of dry leaves.

I looked out of my window at about 6pm tonight and caught a glimpse of a lovely sunset, behind the houses across the road. I grabbed the camera and ran down the street to the back of the church, hoping I wasn't too late. Just a few minutes left before it disappeared over the horizon.

The blood red sky was reflected in the river below.

I couldn't walk away untill it had gone, it was so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes.

Our church is floodlit, maybe worth trying to take a picture with my little point and shoot digital camera. I didn't expect it to turn out very well, but I am pleased with these two.

It's good to be alive. We are so lucky.

A bit of chitter chatter

I did a little five mile local walk today, just to keep my hand in and to stop my muscles from seizing up. No not loads more photo's, just the one, which I had to lie down on my back in a ditch to take. I thought it was a bit different.

Talking of photo's, thank you for your comments on my last post, I very much appreciate it. I am a little bit disappointed however that although I post photo's at the biggest size allowed, they are not big enough. It would be a better if the width of the photo was the same width as the text. When I put them on the walking forum they are bigger and look so much better. I know you can click on them and a new page opens with the photo blown up, but then it is too big to fit on the screen, and you have to scroll sideways, not ideal.

I am to become the chief litter picker in my village. That's as soon as the council gets their finger out and provides me with a picking stick and some black bags. I contacted the secretary of our parish council to volunteer my services, she then contacted the council offices in town, and I had an email from her to say someone would be in touch with me. That was over two weeks ago, I emailed her to say I'd heard nothing. At last they contacted me and said they would drop the equipment off at my house. I am not holding my breath, everything is so long winded with the council. We will be knee high in rubbish by the time it arrives.

I decided to offer to do this job, (a) because I already walk around the village dog walking anyway, and (b) I am sick of seeing the mess. It is mostly wrappings and cans that the youngsters throw down, despite the fact we have enough bins. I think the only way to deal with the problem is to do battle with the little beggars, why should a few people spoil things for the many people who are proud to live here. I can see me becoming about as popular as Linda Snell in The Archers, a noseying busybody, ha ha.

I went to donate blood yesterday, but they didn't want it. Another low iron level reading. Oh dear, I am going to have to up the Guiness intake, and maybe a bottle of red wine will help just before my next attempt to donate.

Remember Mr Beasley, the cantankerous but lovely pussy cat that won't stay at home. I walked past the bungalow where he used to live yesterday, calling his name, just in case he was about. I often do this but he is not usually there, mainly because someone else has picked him up and taken him back home. Well yesterday he came running to me when I called, I quickly grabbed hold of him and virtually ran home with him clutched tightly to my body. After he scoffed two pouches of Felix cat food, I rang his owner, put him in a cat carrier, and drove him home.

Once again his owner was gratefull to get him back. We don't know how to stop him from doing this. His home is down the hill over half a mile away, yet he keeps coming back up to the bungalow. As soon as he was let loose in the house, he was on the sofa enjoying lots of cuddles, purring like mad and rolling about, obviously pleased to be back. I bet he thinks we are right mugs. All he has to do is go for a stroll, get fed lots of food, and get a car ride back again. I think I'm being taken for a ride. But he is lovely though. Toodle Pip.

Jelly legs at Boggle Hole

I have gone a bit mad with the photo's on this one, hope you don't mind. I took ninetyfive, but have managed to get it down to thirtytwo, phew. Anyway, let's crack on. I went to Lockton which is a small village north of Pickering, just off the A169. This is the area of the North Yorkshire Railway, it looks a bit interesting on the map. There has been a lot of heavy rain causing flooding in the area, so I wondered what I was going to find.

The weather wasn't too good, frequent showers which became more persistant as the day went on, however my new jacket was doing it's job and kept me dry. I set off and this is the first view I saw as I turned a corner behind the old rectory, and left the village behind.

I walked along the top of a wood which fell very steeply down on my right hand side. The path started off very muddy and continued like this for a long time. Soon I was scrambling down through the scrub, being attacked by spikey bushes on all sides. The path continued to descend very steeply as I struggled to remain upright. At the bottom I came over this stile.

Eventually I came to a farm next to the railway line. The path I wanted to take through a field was completely impassable, it was waterlogged. Time for a drink and a quick bite to eat, next to this water wheel. All of a sudden I heard the distinct toot toot of a train approaching, I didn't think there were any running this early in the season. I looked up and saw a steam train, wow, got to get a picture of this. In my haste to get my camera out of my pocket and get a good position, I managed to trip over the towing hitch of a small trailer which laid on the ground. A split second later I was sprawled out on the grass with my face in the mud. I don't mind if you laugh, because I did. I jumped up and pointed the camera, yep think I have got it. When I checked, oh dear, I have cut the front of the engine off, what a shame, that would have been so good.

I thought I would put this photo in here as an example of the mud I was having to do battle with. In the summer this would be a pleasant bridleway to saunter along. No, this isn't where I fell thank goodness.

My alternative route was over the railway line and follow the path alongside. I knew I had to cross back over further up at Levisham Station. More mud to do battle with, and rain as well. I was paying so much attention to where I was putting my feet, I couldn't find the path I wanted. I went a bit too far, but no matter, I was able to turn right onto a tarmac road, which took me to the station, where I asked the ladies in the refreshment room if I might sit in their dry shelter for ten minutes to eat my sandwiches. They said, that's ok.

Suddenly it got quite busy, men in orange overalls came from nowhere and started busying themselves in anticipation of something about to happen. The warning siren sounded as they closed the crossing gates, so I guessed there would be a train arriving. I asked if it would be a steam engine. One man said the first would be a diesel, and the second would be a diesel but it would be towing a steam engine at the back. Another chance, I thought, yipee. So here they are, both stopped on the platform. They look like they are side by side going in the same direction, so I have cheated really. I love steam trains.

I set off from the station along the road, I'd had enough of mud and rain so I decided to go back to Lockton on tarmac. The road was very steep, with a hairpin bend at the top, just off the bend was a footpath straight on, still climbing, onto the moor. I checked the map and saw I could make a diversion to get some more height. Even though it was still raining I was determined to get up there, wow what a view! This is the picture I took at the top looking down on the road I had just walked up. A little bit of lingering snow left. The photo is a bit hazy due to the rain, but well worth the effort of getting up there.

There was a choice of which way to go next, but as time was getting on and it was still raining, I decided to follow a wide path which changed to a road. I stayed on the road through Levisham village, a chocolatey box picture village, pity I don't have time to linger. My walking mileage for the first day was 7.87

By 5pm I was setting off for the youth hostel at Boggle Hole. I got a bit lost because I wasn't sure which road off the main road I had to approach it from. Eventually I saw the YHA sign, three miles to the hostel. Then I came to a sign that said 'To The Sea Only'. By this time it was getting dark. I knew you had to park before you got there and walk the rest of the way. At last I found the car park, and set off down the track with my rucksack, cool box full of food, and a holdall, walking into the blackness. I was beginning to wonder where I was going, would I end up in the sea! After five minutes I could see the lights through the trees, I could hear the sea but not see it. I was given an eight bed dormitory all to myself, great. Time to cook dinner.

The next morning I saw how close to the sea we were. The main building has a waterfall behind it, with water continually flowing down the side of it, which then goes out to sea. When the tide is out you can drive a four wheel drive or a pick up truck, down the ramp and over the sand and pebble beach, to the courtyard. When they have a delivery they have to take their smaller vehicle up to the car park where the lorry will be waiting, to collect their stock. The building at the back, up lots of steps, is the annexe. A party of school girls were put in there on the Monday night, I'm glad they weren't next door to me.

In the picture you can see a pick up truck. Two men came to repair a wall, this is the ramp they had to drive down, then sharp left over the beach. There is a gap in the fence for pedestrians, you follow the walkway over a wooden bridge.

I took a short walk onto the beach and took this photo looking towards Robin Hood's Bay.

I decided to follow the footpath north from the hostel onto the Cleveland Way, towards Robin Hood's Bay. Not far to go now.

Thought I'd better have my photo taken. As you can see the weather is much improved today, in fact it is glorious, I have removed some of my layers.

Almost there now, this wonderful boardwalk makes it easier.

This charming olde worlde place is full of tiny cottages packed tightly together. Some of them must never get any sunlight through the windows, and not much privacy either. The best time to visit is out of season, it must get heaving with tourists in the summer.

Some of the streets are only the width of a couple of paving slabs, as you walk around you feel like you should be apologising for encroaching on their territory. I try not to look in the windows.

After half an hour of wandering around this model like village, and partaking of a double chocolate and toffee cone, it was time to continue my walk along the coast. I like to check the view behind me as I go, to see where I have just been, and thought this was lovely.

I headed inland towards Hawsker and walked along a disused railway track for a while. The railway between Whitby and Scarborough closed in the nineteen sixties, and now it is maintained as a walkway and cycle track. The old station here has been turned into a cycle hire place and cafe.

The two carriages are full of bicycles.

From here I set off back along the road which goes right through Fyling Hall School. Very strange, you think you are on private property because there is a big white gate at the entrance with the name of the school on a sign on a stone post. This was my longest day at 12.39 miles.

Day three and I set off south from the hostel, on the Cleveland Way. These are the steps at the start, quite a steep climb onto the top of the cliff.

A bit further on I found a lot of neat steps, thank goodness someone has built these for us walkers.

These were steps that went down towards the beach.

And then back up again. I decided to have a walk along the beach, might as well while I am there.

Some distance away I could see a waterfall coming from the top of the rocks, worth an investigation, I thought. I wasn't sure about the times of the incoming tide so I kept my eye on the waters edge just in case I had to do a runner back to the safety of the path. Isn't it lovely.

As I walked around the other side of it, with my back to the sun, I found a rainbow, even better, this is my lucky day.

Magical, I love rainbows.

While down on the beach, I got a different view of just how much of the edge was crumbling and falling into the sea. Large chunks of earth and vegitation are slipping away, in some places the path was only three feet wide. It wont be long before they have to move the boundary further inland. This concrete bunker type building is already losing it's foundations, you can see the right hand side of it jutting out. I think they will have to take it down before it falls down.

Look at this lovely wooden bridge, it's a work of art. Thank you to the people who put it there.

I'm not far from Ravenscar now. This is the view looking inland.

And this is the view looking out over the sea.

I'm almost in Ravenscar now. In the distance is Robin Hood's Bay, where I was yesterday. Wouldn't you just love a view like that, I could sit and look at it for ages.

I am beginning to feel a little bit weary now but there is still time to do a bit more, don't want to get back too early. I left the cliff top at this point, and continued my journey along the disused railway line/cycle track. After a mile or so I turned sharp right to head back to the car at the hostel. I hadn't done much moorland walking so I set off across Brow Moor and Howdale Moor. A bit early for the heather, and a bit flat, but thankfully not much mud.

Once off the moor my legs were beginning to turn to jelly and I still had a good bit further to go. I always push myself to the limit. I walked through a farmyard and looked for the stile out the other side. I found this gentleman waiting for me, my knight in shining armour, and I was his damsel in distress. It's a pity he didn't have a white horse to whisk me off to the car. Nice to see a farmer with a good sense of humour.

My mileage for the last day was 11.18 making a total of 31.44 for the three days. I'm quite pleased with that. I hope you like my photo's, thanks for looking.