With travel, as with anything in life, things don’t always go as planned. While it’s easy to do a bit of bitching and moaning when things don’t go to plan, for the most of it, I really do try to roll with the punches. Does it really matter if I can’t get to a certain place on the day I had planned? There is always something to see and do around the next corner.
Glasson Dock to Lancaster
Rolling with the punches was the order of the day as we attempted the Lune Estuary Walk from Glasson Dock to Lancaster last week.
Glasson Dock is at the mouth of the Lune River on the shore of Morcambe Bay. Even though it’s no further from Heysham to Glasson than it is from Heysham to Morcambe (and we walk there almost on a daily basis), the bus trip took us almost an hour and a half. With the locks, and the marina, the cobble streets, and old buildings, it’s a cute little place.
The Cemetary at Glasson’s Christ Church is home to graves dating back to 1842. Of course, a visit was necessary!
Thanks to my friend, Lesley, I have learned that I may have coimetromania (n) an abnormal attraction to and desire to visit cemeteries. I won’t say that I suffer from this condition; rather, I quite enjoy it. Not only are old cemeteries often beautiful and peaceful, but they offer all sorts of historic information (and the opportunity to play detective and make up stories about the folks who call them home).
Once we left the village, we were treated to the view of the River Lune Estuary. At one point, we were quite certain we could see the Heysham nuclear energy plant.
At the beginning of our walk, we found the usual good signage and primarily tarmac or gravel paths to follow. Once again, we are impressed with the system of paths available for pedestrians, cyclists, and equestrians in the UK.
It was after a couple of miles before we ran into any other walkers near the end of the passable portion of the trail we were on. It was completely flooded. The group directed us to this option, at a higher elevation than the first, and a bit farther from the river. Enter Plan B.
We took this delightful “high” detour for a ways, thankful for the friendly advice, certain things would improve soon.
After about 1/2 km of sludging through the muck, we turned a corner and….
Clearly, time for Plan C. We backtracked along the mucky ‘high’ trail. No worries, there was that path to Aldcliffe the other walkers had come from. We’ll go that way. It isn’t the route we had planned to take, but heh… we’d never been to Aldcliffe!
This seems like the perfect opportunity to mention my hatred of having wet feet (unless I’m in the shower or at the beach – I’m not completely unreasonable). I will do almost anything to avoid getting my feet wet when they shouldn’t be. At this point, there was no option but to return to Glasson Dock. I considered it. Karen did not. “Just go along the edge.”
With no excellent opportunity to stop to take pictures, I can’t properly show the particularly nasty patch of blackberries that attacked us. I did stop to let one solitary f*bomb fly when the brambles purposely reached out, twined their thorny branches around my backpack, stuck themselves into my waterproof (previously waterproof?) jacket, and ensnared me. Obviously, you understand that letting out a curse word was the only sensible thing to do at this time.
“Just keep going,” came the voice from behind me. No, not in a supportive, helpful voice… there was a sigh. There was also eye rolling. Yes, I could hear it.
Horrific injuries were sustained. Blood gushed. Pain forced me to dig deep down, gather all my strength, and free myself from the evil brambles. I trudged forward and I was victorious. I know you are worried about my injuries. Following the pleas of the National Health System, I did not report to the A&E (Accident and Emergencies). My hand, which looks as if it had been scratched by a wee kitten, will heal. Eventually.
After our detour through Aldcliffe, we managed to find a path along the canal and made our way to Lancaster. We love the canal walks, so all’s well that ends well… and my feet were dry.
Heysham Nature Reserve
One more Plan B. It was just too cold and miserable to bother going far from home, so we thought we would check out a local nature reserve. There are some attractions that just don’t hold up out of season. This would be one of them. No doubt, in the summer, the reserve is teeming with birds, butterflies, and other wildlife. On a cold, grey day in January, this just was not the tranquil, scenic walk we had anticipated. We are quite accustomed to traveling during the off-season and don’t need everything to be picture perfect. Sadly, this destination was even below our off-season standards.
You don’t always get what you want, but how many of us can say we’ve ever actually been to a nuclear power station before?
I still haven’t decided if I want to do a station tour. Might be more interesting with my brother, the engineer, along. Perhaps, I’ll keep this little gem in my back pocket for another rainy day.