28th March day 387

When i woke I wondered what on earth was going on. The tent was being blown from side to side and the rain was hammering against the flysheet. This  was no spring shower. As i sat making my breakfast and morning coffee i pondered over my plans for the day. Having only just got the tent and still learning about how it goes up as well as how to put it away the challenge of packing up was somewhat daunting.

Siezing my chance when the rain suddenly stopped i jumped into action and began packing up. With everything but the tent stowed away in my pack i set about removing the pegs and and retrieving the poles. Now all that was left was the flysheet. Not so easy, even trying to fold it on the floor was a battle. At one point the wind caught it and filled like a parachute, i thought i would take off. Deciding that a clean packing was out of the question i stuffed the tent into its stuff sack. Unbelievably it fitted! Happy as larry i swapped my baseball cap for  my bridgedale beanie and headed for Millom where i knew I'd find a bridge to cross the river and start the days hike towards Barrow.

Following the sea defences, grassy banks forming dykes to reclaim agricultural land, i got my stomp on. As i made good progress even against the gusty winds a mist fell and obscured my views across the estuary. Gradually the wind died off and the day remained dry. Eventually the estuary narrowed considerably and i was finally able to see the shoreline I'd soon be following. It looked pretty much like most of the coast I'd already hiked although i never got bored.

Reaching a wide river i found a railway bridge to cross over and having seen two trains passing in opposite directions shortly before i decided to make a dash across using the workmen's pathways. Then i saw sense. Crossing railway bridges is stupid, you can't outrun a train. I took a step back and reassessed, the tide was out and the water not too deep, about waist deep. I took my boots, socks and trousers off and waded in. It was cold, very cold but quickly drying off on the other side and getting dressed i soon warmed up.

i continued to follow the shoreline around the top of the estuary, a mini Morecombe I'd been told. It was all unbelievably flat.

Having had the wind at my back all morning i was to spend the afternoon with it against me. The shores here were mostly salt marsh as before but as i looked out across to where I'd been that morning i realised the tides had receded revealing a huge expanse of sand. Sand that given half a chance would probably kill you. Fast tides and quick sand makes for a recipe for disaster.

After a bit of a struggle I began to realise i was actually making some progress. Ahead way off in the distance i could see what appeared to be a couple of tunnels set in to what i would consider the most interesting part of the dudduns estuary. Nearing the tunnels i began to summize their usage but on arriving i was in no doubt they were once kilns, probably lime kilns.

Sheltered from the wind i decided to take a short break and gazed back along the estuary I'd just walked. The mist was thinning out and i was able to now see quite some way. It took in a whole new light. It really was quite stunning. Way off on the horizon were the fells a mountainous backdrop to the scenery that framed the perfectly flat sandy bed that would later on be submerged as the winding channels filled with the sea water as the tide rose. I'd say it was natures poetry.

I then followed a headland round to a quainy beach before stopping in askom. Now looking at my satellite images i thought I'd be arriving in a town, i couldn't have been more wrong, askom is a mega village. There's no cafe but i did find an indian, chinese, fish n chips and a newsagent. Really thirsting for a coffee i grabbed an instant from the newsagents before carrying on.

Feeling refreshed and fueled with caffeine free coffe i headed back to the pier to rejoin the  beach. Then it starts raining, raining hard. Cold and wet and getting wetter with every step i followed the sandy beach around a headland.

On the far side i came across  a strange community of wooden buildings directly  opposite walney island.  I'm sure it would have been a nice view had the weather been better. Still grim i carried on following shoreline took and  refuge in pill box just to take a short break from the wind and rain.

I was getting closer to barrow now and spured on by the thought of sleeping inside at the Barrow lifeboat house i ignored the pains in my feet and legs and carried on following the shore. The tide was coming in now and looking ahead i knew i wouldn't be able to safely carry on  so i climbed onto the cliffs eventually ending  up in an old quarry that was now used by dirt bikes.

The Barrow lifeboat station was still about three miles away but passing a pizza hut i decided to stop and grab a bite to eat. Thin crust meat feast. Night was falling and it was getting dark. It took another hour hiking in the dark before i arrived at the station but the greeting was worth it.

27th March day 386

I'd had a particularly good nights sleep in the new tent and woke to a calm morning with the birds chattering away. After having breakfast my first challenge of the day was to work out how to efficiently pack the tent away, then I would need to recce the estuary which I'd been warned had a strong tidal current.

All packed up i headed over to the water to find a good place to cross. As i searched for a spot to land on the other side i noticed a red flag flying. I had camped opposite a military range. The red flag meant the range was active and the military were out playing. I wouldn't be able to cross there I'd have to hike round.

As i followed the estuary back still looking for a place to cross i noticed the water shallowed opposite Ravenscar. Taking my boots and socks off i waded across and began to hike round the range. As i did i heard a loud explosion. Then another. I was quite frankly pleased i hadn't crossed the night before as i would have most definitely found myself camped in the middle of a war zone.

From Ravenscar i decided to follow the banks of in of the tributaries that joined the estuary. It wasn't long till i found a shallow section that allowed me to cross over still out of bounds of the firing range.

Continuing with my journey i hiked around the  range to a pebble beach on the other side and back to the coast. The beach was mostly pebbles and stones and not the easiest of surfaces to walk. A few miles along while taking a  little rest i was joined by a black and white collie. He seemed quite friendly and after a minute or two of petting spotted some birds and darted off to chase them.

I grabbed my pack and headed off once again. The beach went on for miles, an endless expanse of stones and pebbles that stretched as far as the eye could see. Looking out to sea was what would one day be the largest wind farm in the Uk. After hiking a good few miles i realised that the dog was still following me. Taking a short breather i sat on my pack, the dog came over and lay beside me. While stroking him i noticed a name on his collar, reef. There was also a phone number. I took out my mobile but no signal. With very little choice i carried on, reef in tow.

Finally arriving in Haverigg i was able to connect to the mobile network and  called reefs owners whom not sounding too pleased agreed to meet me and collect my companion. They weren't long in coming out and with reef on his way home i decided to stop at a local pub for a quick orange juice and lemonade.

It was dark by the time I'd rested and i still hadn't found anywhere suitable to camp. I carried on using my head torch to light the way as i walked on from the village. After a couple of miles i found myself in what appeared to be common ground beneath an old lighthouse. The ground was level and if nothing else i was hoping for a good view the following morning.

25th - 26th March

25th March day 384

Waking up with the sun richard came to the station to pick me up and take me to meet up with ian at carnegie hall for a full English. A perfect start to what would turn out to be a perfect day. There were no clouds in the sky and with the high tide later that day at 3pm i had plenty of time to clock up as many miles as my legs would take me.

Leaving Workington i followed the stony shores to Whitehaven which is where Jonathan Swift was inspired to write the fictional tale of one man stumbling on a land if little people. The main character was called gulliver and the novel, gullivers travels.

My days adventure began as many others, with a lovely walk along a beach with a continuously changing landscape. One thing i particularly notice is the differentiating geology and today was no exception. Whilst i walked enjoying the sun and wishing i knew more about the rocks i was walking over i noticed a brick tunnel built into the low cliff face to my left. Richard had said I'd be passing a tunnel, he called it the german tunnel. As local legend had it the tunnel had been dug out and bricked up by german prisoners of war to allow salt water into the steel works that had once provided employment opportunities to the locals. Tunnels attract me like a mouse to cheese. I had to take a look. Although coastal erosion had collapsed part of the opening there was still enough roon for me to climb in side.

The tunnel was quite wide and about 2m high. It stretched back a fair distance too,  i couldn't see the far end but i wanted to know where it led. Using the light from my phone, as I'd left my head torch in my pack beyond the entrance, i set off looking for a surprise. The deeper i explored the darker it became. At the back of the tunnel, surprise, a doorway leading to a small room which had been filled with concrete. Gutted. That was my tunnel exploration over, turning about i headed back to the tunnel entrance and climbed back down to the shore.

I now knew i was hiking along the beach beneath where the old steel works once stood. Although i couldn't see the site I'd been told the factory had been closed and now demolished. In its heyday the steel works produced the finest steel in the world and was responsible for producing the majority of railway tracks not only in England but india as well.

There was quite a bit of coastal erosion along this stretch which was very apparent, coming across a large sea cave i had to stop to investigate. A layer of soft clay had been washed away beneath a layer of stone and rock forming a reasonable opening.  From the ceiling hung stalagmites formed from i would imagine,  salt crystals.

I only stopped for a few minutes before carrying on along the shore passing more concrete tunnels until i reached a small harbour. Chatting with one of the locals i was warned about the difficulties i could expect ahead and the dangers of the rising tide which were notorious for coming in quickly. It was a challenge i was happy to undertake.

With a slight sense of urgency i picked up the pace a little wanting to be sure I'd beat the tides and conquer this coastline. The rocky shore was easy to hike and with  tide coming in some of the beaches around small bays were narrowing inch by inch but still leaving plenty of room for me to pass. I was indeed beginning to run out of time. Whitehaven was now in sight but the tide was also almost completely in. The railway which had run above me on my left on top of a steep stone bank was looking more and more like my exit strategy should i find myself completely cut off.

The water was now beginning to lap at the boulders and the shore was completely submerged. I wasn't going to give up though and once again picked up the pace with a sense of urgency. Clambering over the boulders which were covered in a green slimy algae i had to be carefulof my footing.

The coast was now becoming more challenging with every passing moment and i still had a fair way to go. Gradually the waters began to cover the boulders and i was forced up onto the railways stone embankment where I'd have to traverse a slime covered stone wall the water a mere few inches below me and trains passing above. Keeping level headed and focussed on my goal i eventually reached a long sweeping beach.

The tide was now almost completely in which meant i wouldn't be able to hike the coastline any further.  It was a little disappointing but i was still very happy with the great progress I'd made and i was only a mere mile away from Whitehaven. It had been a fantastic day, bright and sunny, arriving in Whitehaven i b-lined it to the first costa i could find to grab a mega moca and take a well deserved break.

Leaving Whitehaven i followed the coastal path passing a tall chimney locally known as the candle stick. I also passed the old coal mines that had once employed so many on my way to st bees. The path climbed up onto the clifftops and as i hiked i found myself  looking down at the coast below. With the tide in it would have been impossible to navigate the coastline. With the tide out though i believe a successful coastal romp would be possible. As i arrived at st bees the sun was well and truly setting. From the top of the cliffs i could see the rnli station below, my shelter for the night. Jason was inside and after i was shown round i settled in.

26th March day 385

It was just past 8am when i heard a knock at the door of the boathouse. Putting my trousers on i left the operations  room and went to investigate. On opening the door i was greeted by a big smile and extended hand. It was dick. He'd waited for my arrival the evening before but i hadn't arrived until shortly after he'd headed off to work. Soon after jason popped over and the kettle was on for a morning coffee. Its always great to meet with the guys at the stations i visit and makes the journey far more interesting for me listening to the stories of courage and on occasion tragedy.

After a quick photo shoot and another mug jason took me to the beach cafe to treat me to a good breakfast filling me in with local history and more stories. The first submerged communication line was laid not far from the station to the isle of man and the anchor set in concrete just outside the boathouse had been recovered from a wreck not far away exactly 100 years after the boat sank by the crew whilst out on a training exercise.

Although the morning looked a little bleak by the time i had finished eating and got ready the skies had cleared and the sun was out. There was a light wind at my back and i dedcended onto the beach and began the long hike along the shores towards Sellafield nuclear power station. Initially i crossed a nicely packed sandy beach which soon turned rocky before ending up extremely stony. To be honest it was a pain hiking it but my spirits remained lifted as the sun warmed my face and the views continued to change.

I passed several quirky little communities of wooden buildings, some garden sheds and others, well, I'll say improvised. After a few miles hiking I eventually reached a river, the railway passed over it using an old bridge, i was going to also have to use the bridge. Much to my delight as i got closer i discovered a path that first went under and then alongside the tracks above.

Now on the right side of the river i needed to negotiate the Sellafield perimeter for a short distance, i wasn't sure if it was an official route but it suited me, which brought me out at the Sellafield railway station. I however really wanted to be back on the  other side of the tracks. With English  trespass laws now in place I'd have to be careful how i went about getting back to my beloved coast. The station certainly was not the right place to make the attempt, too many gazing eyes, too many "politically correct health and safety oh you can't do that" people.

Looking around I found a sign showing the way to the coastal cycle route and away from the power station. The cycle path followed the railway line towards a bridge crossing another small river. On the other side I was able to then go under the bridge and back to the beach and continue my journey along the coastline. All in all it was considerably easy than i first thought.

Back on the beach i hiked towards Seascale where i decided to stop to seek out a cafe for a well deserved break, a panini and hot chocolate with cream, marshmallows and a flake. After chatting to the owner who also helped her husband on their local dairy farm i set off again to find the estuary i was hoping to cross the following morning.

As I approached the estuary at the end of the beach, the wind picked up and the sun began setting. Climbing in among the sand dunes i found somewhere partially sheltered and began pitching the new tent I'd been given. It wasn't your normal straight forward tent configuration and as i fumbled with the poles and the flysheet flapping in the wind i wished I'd pre pitched the tent back at sues to check it. The pegs were small and not very well suited to soft sand none the less i carried on and with the help of the instructions eventually managed to get my home erected as darkness fell. The tent was quite frankly enormous, as big as the taj mahal. Big enough to hold a rave in or house a small family. I just hoped the pegs would hold in place for the night and vowed that i would make camp earlier the next day so i could become more acquainted with its design.

24th March day 383

It was a lovely sunny morning and i had no doubt spring had now officially arrived. After breakfast I set off to walk the shoreline to Workington. The beach passed the port was quite unusual. At first I thought it had been concreted over to prevent coastal erosion but the further i hiked i realised that it was a natural phenomenon.

The horizon ahead was not that of gorgeous hills or mountains but instead very industrial. Dozens of wind turbines spinning and a huge processing plant of some type. Beyond the processing plant which i later discovered had once been a power station i could see the vast expanse of concrete and stone that formed Workington. Still following the coast i passed a small woodland and a few more wind turbines before reaching the boundaries of the port.

Workington rnli was based at the entrance to the port and is the only station that launches their boat using a crane. The crane is the only one of its type in existence and can launch the lifeboat in around 7 minutes. Waiting for me were richard, ian and joe. Ian had been following my progress for quite sometime and meeting up with him was fantastic. All to often anonymous followers comment and like my posts but it is only on rare occasions that i actually get to meet them in person.

After the usual coffee, biscuits, meet n greet richard treated me to tea, anything i wanted. The first thing that sprung to mind was pizza express but there wasn't one my next choice was something I hadn't seen for months and a place I'd spent several hours using free wifi and charging my phone. It was if course McDonald's. Although the chicken legend probably has very little nutritional value every bite felt good. After finishing my little indulgent feast we headed back to the station so i could relax, check my kit and catch up with social media.

Later that evening the boys returned to take me to their local boozer for a few pints, 5 pints to be precise. By 10:30 i was already beginning to feel somewhat woozy. Lager always seems to get me quicker than spirits not that i was complaining.

Back at the station i was once again left to my own devices. Looking at the satellite images on my phone i could see the coastline ahead could prove to be dangerous and if nothing else challenging. So i hatched a plan; start early, have breakfast, make a dash in front of the cliffs to st bees, don't get cut off or caught out by the tides, arrive alive

23rd March day 382

My short stay in silloth was epic. But the time soon came for me to put on my pack and say goodbye to my trusty tarp. Iain had sent down a new tent and  sleeping mat for my birthday. Now back in England these would be essential pieces of kit. With less trees and the restrictive wild camping laws the use of a tarp would be too challenging and i still had a long way to go.

Having been escorted from the boathouse around the port and pointed in the right direction along the beach i set off towards Allonby where I'd been told to look out for a surf bar. Being a surf bar i felt fairly confident it would be situated near to the coast and I'd at some point bump into it.

The hike from silloth along the beach was easy going and it didn't take me long to reach the small coastal village of Allonby. As I'd suspected the surf bar was next to the coast and very easy to spot. It was now around lunch time and i was feeling a little peckish. I'd  been told to ask for peter blake the owner who would take care of me. Not only did peter offer me a room, which i decided to decline as it wss still too early to stop, but i was also given a delicious  roast turkey dinner with strawberry cheesecake desert. Peter is quite the character, larger than life, a bit like alison.

While sat at the bar chatting away and sipping my orange juice and lemonade in walked a young lady. She came straight over to me and in a very confident voice said "are you doing the coast to coast?". "Yes" i replied "I'm following the coast so i suppose you could say I'm doing 'the coast'!". Claire had decided the day before quite spontaneously that she would cycle the coast to coast route. Its people like that who really interest me. It was a shame she couldn't stop longer as i felt she had a few interesting stories to spout. I asked if she was on Facebook so i could follow her exploits, "sure, search for Nige migel!" She replied. I wanted to find out more about this nige migel but before I could ask lunch was served and claire / nige had hopped onto her bike and like the  wind was gone.

Fully refueled i left the surf bar and headed back to the beach. It was a fair old hike and with the tide out i was able to keep to the shore all the way to the harbour walls. Arriving  in Maryport during the twilight hours i headed to the local Maryport rescue boathouse to meet some of the crew. The Maryport lifeboat is not associated with the rnli but as with all the community run rescue services i was welcomed with a coffee and biscuit before being shown round and told about the services history.

The boathouse had once been used by the rnli during the mid 1800's and later moved to Workington where the water was much deeper allowing for a larger all weather boat. The dedication of all the crews I'd met on my trip were exceptionally inspiring. As i was about to set off to find somewhere to pitch my new tent i was informed that a room in a b n b had been arranged for me at the sailors return, a big supporter of the local lifeboat. Living a humble existence is always enlightened by the generosity and random acts of kindness by strangers.

21st - 22nd March

21st March day 380

A little hungover i decided to chill out for the day and catchup with my videos. The last time I'd sunk that much rum was  when iain thornber bought me a couple of bottles at Christmas. I was really feeling it but after spending over a year focused on the ultimate goal and mostly keeping tea total, well orange juice and lemonade / coffee total, it was good to let my hair down. Well when i say letting my hair down i actually mean having it clippered to within an inch of its life.

That evening i was in for yet another surprise, a party in the boathouse complete with disco, all spontaneously organised and derek fleet had driven from Manchester to join us for an evening of misbehaviour. My time at silloth was certainly going to be one I'd never forget including the the walk back to sues from the station in the early hours of the morning. Linked arm in arm we all marched in the dark along the promenade and when i began to feel the ground raise beneath me and suddenly vanish sending me crashing to the ground all Derek and sue could say was "that was a good roll, i give it 9.5 out of ten", not "oh adam are you ok". I hadn't known, i mean how could I  have, there were concrete steps directly in my path.

22nd March day 381

For the second day running i was feeling the worse for wear. Sues morning wake up call could also do with a lit polishing. Thump thump thump "if you want to go on the boat we have to be there in 15 minutes". I'm still not sure how but i managed to get myself dressed and staggered down stairs. Derek looked considerably better than i felt. With no time for coffee we headed back to the station.

Immediately upon arrival sue set about organising some much needed caffeine, i don't seem to function well without it. Then it was time to climb into fleeces and dry suits and fasten up my buoyancy aid before climbing on board the b class rib ready for my first excursion on an rnli lifeboat. Getting to see first hand how the lifeboat crew worked as a team to save lives was a trek ambition I'd had. I was now going to fulfil this ambition to its fullest.

The launching of the lifeboat was a fairly simple affair, the calm  weather helping enormously. The station tractor pushed the boat laden trailer down the slipway and into the water, mel oriented me and ensured i was comfortable connecting me up to the intercom and attaching an alarm cord to me. Sitting at the rear of the boat the alarm cord is used should something happen if a rogue wave decided to throw me overboard. The guys at the front wouldn't have a clue i was overboard, a simple but effective safety measure.

The whole process took only a matter of minutes and before I knew it the throttle was opened and we'd launched. Sat at the back I could see everything, derek was just in front of me and mel to my side. As the power went down on the two enormous engines the bow lifted and we began skipping over the waves along the solway and out to sea. The purpose of the exercise was to plot the large metal bouys on the boats gps instruments. In no time at all we arrived at the first. Slowing to a halt i could see the power of the incoming tide as it ripped beneath the bouy trying it hardest to move it in towards the estuary.

Then we moved on to the next. It  didn't take long at all. Looking back at the shore i could bearly make out the houses, mere dots in the distance. We then turned away and headed over to the Scottish side of the solway aiming for a  familiar looking lighthouse I'd walked passed the week before. It looked different from this side, smaller.

As we slowed i was called up over the intercom. It was my turn at the helm. I disconnected myself with mels help and went up front. After a quick induction we were off. My task, to keep in the deep channels that carved their way through the sandy sea bed. It wasn't as easy as the crew had made it look. With one hand on the throttle, one eye on the depth gauge and another eye on the shoreline we set off.

Although the lifeboat was able to sit in very little water avoiding the shallows was extremely difficult and i found myself relying on the instructions and experience  of the crew. It was great fun and with perfect weather conditions a thoroughly enjoyable experience. It was then the turn of derek to return us back to silloth.

Approaching the lifeboat station i was once again called forward. Derek slowed to a stop and mel lowered herself  into the water, I followed. Entering the solway with one hand on the rope which went around the rib i released trapped air from my dry suit and pushed off floating away. It was a relaxing experience, a perfect hangover cure. Mel took my arm and we lay back bobbing up and down casually conversing while the boat went away occasionally passing us send the wake our way. I was in my element.
After about 5 minutes, although it felt much longer, the lifeboat returned. It pulled up slowly and controlled along side us. Mel and i swam in closer. I wondered what the procedure was for getting out of the water. Mel went first. She headed to the stern so i followed. Loosing her grip mel began floating away. Immediately i reached out and grabbed her helmet to pull her in. It was a natural reflex. Reaching up mel took hold of a handle and began to haul herself up out of the water. I went behind to the far side and did the same. There was no elegant method of boarding the boat once you  were in the  water.

It was harder than you can imagine and took all my strength to pull myself up, grabbing onto anything i could and scrambling onto the inflated tubes that kept the boat buoyant. Mel was having a little more difficulty. After a couple of attempts she was tired and dropped back into the solway. Her pockets had filled with water and had caught on something preventing her from easily getting back on board. Pulling herself back round to  the side she used a strap the crew had attached to the side of the boat and hooking one foot in pulled herself out landing on the deck like a fish out of water.

It was a fantastic experience and one i will never forget. Looking out fromthe boat i was quite amazed at how far mel and i had drifted in the current.  The boat house was quite some distance away. That afternoon back at sues i relaxed and downloaded the footage I'd captured on my gopro to produce a short video sharing the experience with everyone following the trek.

20th March day 379

It was a chilly start to the day but as i boiled my water and sipped on a lovely hot mug of coffee the air began to warm. It had been quite uncomfortable during the night my muscles seizing up throughout. As i began to pack up  an early morning walker passed by wishing me a good morning commenting on my temporary accommodation and how cold it looked. As the conversation progressed i was informed that directly opposite where I'd stayed was an old chapel that was open with toilet facilities and refreshments, by donation.

Leaving the woods and footpath i headed over, sure enough there it was and just as i arrived a gentleman pulled up in his car to unlock the doors. He didn't give me his name but he'd been in the coastguard for 12 years before retiring. His wife had been running the chapel for a couple of years now to raise money to keep it open. Inside was lovely, the chapel was well kept and in the kitchen a nice selection of teas, coffees, hot chocolate and biscuits.

I made myself a mug and ventured outside to watch the solar eclipse a fantastical natural phenomenon. How is it that moon just so happens to be just the right distance from the earth that it completely blocks the sun as the two celestial bodies pass.

Before leaving the chapel i had one last coffee, left my donation and signed the visitors book. I then headed back to the hadrians wall walk from whence i left it and although it had rapidly turned chilly as the moon eclipsed the sun the air soon began to warm again. I was still looking for signs of the wall as walked the banks of the river which was rapidly opening up to join the solway. The first real sign that I'd now rejoined the coast was the remains of a harbour wall near port Carlisle, a small village a mile before bowness.

Making quick progress along the coastal road it took me less than half an hour to reach the next village. As i hiked the main street, following the hadrians wall walk sign posts i passed a b n b. The sun was now shining and the clouds were clearing. Outside the b n b the host was saying goodbye to her guests who had returned after completing their five day hike following hadrians wall across the country, a mini camino. As i hiked passed the lady called out "well done you've almost finished", de ja vu. A similar thing had happened to me as i walked through john o groats the year before. With a smile i stopped "not quite", "its only another 230 yrds" she replied. Obviously i had to explain the challenge much to everyone's amusement. "Shall i put a pot of tea on?", well I'm not one to say no. We all went inside and began to banter. It was fascinating hearing about the adventure the two friends had embarked on, a spur of the moment adventure. The look on their faces emanating self satisfaction. The look of conquerors.

Leaving bowness and bidding farewell to the two intrepid explorers i continued with my mission to tackle the English coast. Stopping off briefly at what was apparently the end or possibly the start of hadrians wall for a photo op i wondered how much of the actual wall was left. It was a reasonable hike following the salt marshes towards an array of enormous antennas which I'd been told were military in nature. In fact i was told on several occasions the antenna had something to do with submarine communications. Others had mentioned the history of the site dating back to the second world war where the navy had used it as an airbase. Apparently during the war the Canadians flew over and also used the base but in some cases the aircraft ran out of fuel just before reaching the airstrip having to ditch into the solway not far away. Apparently undercarriage from the wreckages can still be seen at low tide.

As i passed the antenna array the skies filled with clouds and from nowhere it suddenly began to pour. Hoping the showers would pass quickly i continued to hike back inland to make my way round the estuary and to make use of the bridge at Kirkbride. Thankfully as i reached Kirkbride the rain eased off, the sun returned and i was able to pick up the cumbrian coastal path which I'd be able to follow all the way to the coastal town of silloth, home of long serving rnli crew member and loyal trek supporter sue kent.

Sue, now retired from active service, had remained with the station taking on the roll of press secretary. I'd received many messages from sue since tackling the east coast asking when I'd be arriving at silloth. Derek fleet, a charity supporter I'd met early on had at the time told me that when i eventually arrived at silloth would experience one of the greatest receptions i could imagine. He wasn't wrong.

A bed had been made up and plans were afoot for my welcome. In fact my weekend had been planned ahead of my arrival. That evening i was treated to a lovely vegetarian lasagne,  cooked by hannah, sues daughter. Melanie, another crew member joined us later and the rum came out of the cupboard. Sue had also baked me a birthday cake which ironically was shaped like an enormous chocolate booby, I'm sure it wasn't intentional.

It was a fantastic evening and being presented with a laptop for me to do some admin on which hannah had left herself logged into Facebook a series of random posts simply had to be made. Well and truly "fraped" and after consuming a respectable amount of rum we eventually retired around 4:30am. I  wasn't going to be going anywhere the following day.

19th March day 378

It wasn't the best nights sleep I'd had, the ground was uncomfortable,  it was cold and the traffic ran almost continually all night. Eventually dragging my ass out of the sleeping bag around 7:30 despite every effort to have a little lie in i made breakfast and packed my gear away ready to cross the border and leave Scotland behind me.

Before i left the country though i had to stop for a coffee and birthday bacon bap at the first and last house in Scotland, the old toll bar. The bridge that was to carry me a mere couple of steps away. Part of me wanted to stay in Scotland a bit longer but i knew although I was only 470 odd miles from lands end as the crow flies my journey ahead would be considerably longer.

It was still very misty as I left the cafe to cross the river that defined the border. Stepping into England was a monumental achievement and a very special occasion for the trek. As i did i thought back to my time tackling the Scottish coast, the people i met and hospitality I'd recieved, the freedoms of the land, the weather.

As i continued passed the welcome sign to follow the road back to the coast the mist gradually cleared and the sun shone hard on me. I couldn't ask for more. I wouldn't see the coastline now until i got near to bowness on solway which first meant negotiating the river eden.

Finding the hadrians wall walk off the road taking me through fields and along the river bank was a nice break from hiking the busy English roads not that i saw any signs of a wall roman or otherwise.

After many miles hiking, the sunny weather almost tropical, i eventually found the coast almost directly opposite Annan by the eden channel. It was about 7:30pm when i finally found somewhere to camp up. I had to be sure i was high up which limited my options a little. This was due to the high tides that were expected later during the night. The area i had been hiking was prone to flooding when the tide levels rise above 9 meters. The prediction for the night was, you guessed it 9 meters and 10 the following day.

18th March day 377

I'd slept particularly well in the farmhouse, having a comfortable bed, warmth and peace. I got myself dressed and joined john in the kitchen for a coffee and bowl of crunchy nut cornflakes. We chatted for a bit before i had to head off on my way. I didn't think I'd quite make it to gretna that day but i was determined to get as close as possible.

The coast was a fair hike fromthe farm so to expediate my journey i stuck to the road until i reached brow well. Brow well was visited by the famous Scottish poet rober burns, bob to his mates. He was advised to drink from the well because of its supposed healing qualities. A few days after he arrived home he died.

A footpath from the well took me back to the salt marshes at the mouth of the river I'd been following since the day before. Looking out across the water i was hoping to see the English coastline especially as i was so close now.  Unfortunately a heavy mist had descended on the area and i couldn't see much further than a couple of hundred yards out to sea.

The air was warming up and it certainly felt like the sun would eventually break through. Over the next few miles i stuck to the shore and hiked the salt marshes to Powfoot and then on to the next village, newbie i think. I was now able to pick up a river bank footpath which led me on to Annan where i stopped at the cafe royal for a burger and coke and to meet with a reporter and photographer. The interview lasted a couple of minutes, alison had supplied the reporter with everything they needed so they didn't feel like an interview was necessary.

Now passed the coastline and following the river esk i decided to keep to the road and attempt to reach Gretna, the Scottish town best known for its marriages over the anvil for eloping couples.

Arriving in Gretna was quite something, mixed feelings. I can't quite put my finger on it. Stopping literally yards from the border but not wanting to cross till the morning i sought out a few trees to camp amongst. It was harder than you might think. In the end i settled for a small clump of woodland next to the retail village. Yes i was by the road and no it was far from ideal but it was to be home for the night.

17th March day 376

It was what us southerners call a mild morning. It was dry but Niether hot nor cold. Leaving my little hiding place just on the outskirts of Dumfries and keeping the river in sight i headed to Glencaple to meet alison who had gathered a few goodies for me including nikwax for my boots and some new walking socks, mine now perishing. Alison had also arranged for me to meet a guy from the nith voluntary inshore rescue service, a private lifeboat service, for a quick tour of their boat house and for a chat about the invaluable services they provide assisting the coastguards. The surrounding area is notoriously dangerous with rapid tides and quick sand. Thankfully I'd not needed their assistance during this leg of the trek but listening to some of robbies stories really highlighted the dangers of the solway coastline.

It was a fascinating break from the daily hikes and actually speaking to the crews of not only the rnli but also the volunteers of community projects such as pirsac and ninth helped me fully understand what drives the crews to risk their own lives in order to save others. It also highlighted the costs involved in launching as well as replacing and repairing vital kit.

Leaving the nith boathouse i followed a kind of footpath along the banks of the river until it started to get a bit soft underfoot as i walked over the silty shores nearing the mouth of the river. Deciding i really quite liked to keep my record clean and not wanting to get stuck in the mud i opted to head up to the road running parallel to the water.

I didn't need to hike long before I found a way back to the shore where the caerlaverock national nature reserve began. The nature reserve consists mostly of salt marshes and mud flats.  You will find most common coastal birds and i would speculate a great view of the solway. Unfortunately for me although it was a lovely day there was quite a thick haze hanging over the solway and i didn't get much of a view of anything.

The hike was very easy going as salt marshes go and the longer I hiked the warmer it appeared to get. After a couple of hours wandering along again lost in my own thoughts, mostly about how i was going to fund the nile challenge and attract sponsors, eventually reaching the mouth of another river. It was a little too deep to wade across and un the back of my mind i wondered how solid the river bed would be, having visions of getting stuck half way across. Obviously it was a job for hoolley, or was it. I checked the cached satellite images of the area and located a bridge about a mile away.  Thats 20 mins there and 20 mins back, it takes about the same time to get hoolley ready and then packed away. It was to be a close call. By pack rafting across I'd save a couple of miles hiking true but I'd also have a wet backpack and the extra weight of any mud or water and time wise it would be about the same.

After 40 minutes walking and still no sign of the bridge i had to concede to the fact that maybe my estimation of the distance to the bridge was somewhat out. In fact it was twice as far as i had guessed which meant in theory i could have made the crossing twice including packing away and unpacking hoolley in between. I was committed now and there was absolutely no way i was going back to make the crossing now.

Finally reaching Bankend and the bridge i followed the road parallel to the river and back towards the coast. Forefront in my mind was to get water for the evening meal and find shelter before it got dark. Passing a small bridge and seeing a woodland ahead i decided to stop to collect some water. Peering over the brick wall of the bridge i could see the water wasn't quite right, in fact it looked like morning after urine. While deciding whether or not i could do any better i noticed dogs barking at the gates of the farm i was now next to. Looking up and away from the urine coloured stream I noticed the owner of the collies peering out from the farmhouse. I went over to say hi and decided to ask if it would be possible to fill my bottles.

Janet and john had lived in the farmhouse for 15 years having moved from Sussex in search of a better more relaxed life. Having filled my bottles we then chatted for quite some time about the trek and the local area. So much so i was becoming conscious of the amount of light left. Making my excuses and eager to get to the woods before dark i set off with a fair pace.

I hadn't walked far when i heard a call from behind me, it was john, he'd quite literally run up the road after me. A little out of breath when he reached me john invited me to spend the night at the farmhouse in one of the spare rooms. It was a lovely gesture and one i simply couldn't refuse being that it was a completely random act of kindness.

14th - 16th March

14th March day 373

I slept particularly well on one of the leather bound sofas and was woken by an offering of bacon sandwiches and tea. After helping tim fix his wifi issues we sat and chatted. tim is quite a character, having travelled the world in a land cruiser taking four years he has now moved into the warehouse in Palnackie in the hope to launch an ecologically friendly and sustainable shipping company. An idealistic pipe dream, not for tim. With strong determination and a positive mental attitude that would fill an auditorium i believe he'd be able to move mountains if he put his mind to it.

It was nice to just simply be.

15th March day 374

It would have been nice if i could have taken more time out to listen to tims stories and visions but with such a long way to hike and with the English / Scottish border so close i had to peel myself away and concentrate on the challenge. The break had done me good though and I knew we would meet again someday.

After being dropped back at sandyhills and saying goodbye i headed off across the sand. I'd been warned by several people about the dangers of the area from rapid tides to quick sand. Taking heed of the warnings i decided to keep close to the rocks instead of taking a direct line across the bay.

Reaching a river i had to decide whether to unpack hoolley or look for a bridge. With the tide out and the risk of sinking up to my waist i decided to follow the river, afterall how long would i possibly have to  go before I could cross. Well lets just say this time it wasn't measured in minutes but in miles.

Leaving the sands i headed up on to marshes and began the long hike following the river hoping to either find a footbridge or stepping stones or even somewhere narrow enough for me to jump. It didn't happen. The marshes got marshier the reeds taller and well the river remained uncrossable.

I was beginning to regret my decision not to use the pack raft but i was also determined to find an alternative way to cross so i continued to follow the river. After battling my way through the grasses and as much as possible avoiding sinking in the marsh i reached a field that led to a track which in turn led to a bridge. Using the pack raft would most definitely have been quicker.

After the bridge i returned to the coast via the bird sanctuary at mersehead. The public footpath followed the coast all the way to southerness. The day despite my little distraction was going rather well.

From southerness i made my way to Carsethorn where i joined the road, again being warned by a local about quick sand. It was now beginning to get late so coming across a small wood i decided to stop.

16th March day 375

The mornings were definitely warming up. After climbing out of my sleeping bag and packing away i continued to follow the road. I was a fair way from the coast now and my goal for the day was to cross the bridge in Dumfries. Simply following the road was a doddle and by the afternoon i arrived. It was still a shock walking round the streets, so many people.  I  felt anonymous and insignificant.

12th - 13th March

12th March day 371

The sun was now beginning to rise earlier and earlier every day, and it was noticeable. The forecast for the day was well to be frank crappy. I was to expect rain all day but as i peered out from my sleeping bag it didn't look like it would rain in the slightest. It was a bit windy though and gaining strength with every passing minute. I however didn't want to get up just then unfortunately i wantedto get a few good miles in that day aiming for at the very least Auchencairn and if it was possible Kippford. An early start was essential.

Breakfast was a quick affair and packing up equally so although trying to fold the tarp with the winds blowing it about meant being a little resourceful. It still wasn't raining. I left the woods and crossed a couple of fields again through gates, a fantastic invention someone should really introduce around the isle of Whithorn. I then headed down a muddy track between trees sone trees which brought me to a junction. For some reason my guts said turn left but knowing the coast was down to my right i ignored my gut and went with my head.

As the track descended as it twisted between the trees i still wasn't convinced this was the right way to be heading,  i don't know why but it just didn't feel right.

It didn't take long and i could see the shore, the track continued on but there was a kind of path thingy which made for a more direct route. It was almost vertical but someone had  kindly strung heavy rope between the trees to aid my descent.

At the bottom and with a few steps i was on a stony beach looking along, planning my course still trying to convince my gut it was in fact wrong and  that although it would be tough this was still the right direction  to head in.

It felt good being back by the waters edge again after spending a  few days on cliffs or hiking nearby roads. Yes the going was going to be tough, physically and mentally but i felt the rewards would be Olympic. Setting off along the beach i kept an eye on the cliffs ahead. Muttering the words "this could be a mistake" i began to tackle the boulders and slippery rocks I'd now encountered. I  wondered how many times I'd said that and had most definitely now lost count.

The boulders were gradually getting larger the further along i went and i was also now beginning to face enormous slippery plates angled down towards the sea. The tide had also turned and was most definitely coming in. It was no longer a simple case of scrambling over rocks it was very much turning into mini climbs which is all well and good as long as i didn't need to make a hasty retreat. As any climber will tell you "its easier climbing up than climbing down ".

The further i hiked the more slimy and slippery i was finding the rock beds beneath my feet. Crossing one such bed i slipped and didn't stop until i hit a small ridge at the bottom.  There would be absolutely no way i would be able to scramble back up it and started to really hope my gut was wrong otherwise I'd have no other choice but to find an alternative way around this obstacle.
I continued to scramble over boulders, climb ridges and traverse ledges until, thud. My heart skipped a beat. I was to go no further. The tide was racing in and in front of me a climb down i wouldn't be able to manage on my own. Which was a shame because I'd come to the mouth of an enormous cave which beckoned and taunted me.

Thud, then the gravity of the situation struck a cord. I'd need to make my way back over demanding terrain and race against the tide. My gut was right and whats worse i could now find myself in the situation where I'd possibly be cut off from the tide. Under no circumstances was i going to call the rescue services, i got myself into this mess i was going to get myself out of it.

Turning round i now had the problem of not only finding a safe way back to the place I'd started the mornings adventure but also do it before i found myself cut off completely by the tides. It would take me a full hour to get back the stony beach, clambering, climbing and sliding if the rocks and boulders. It was also now beginning to rain, a rainfall that wouldn't let up one bit for the remainder of the day.

With two hours wasted i resigned myself to the fact I'd be spending the rest of the day hiking the fields at the top of the cliffs. Heading back to the steep slope with the rope i now had to climb, the heavens opened up further. I pulled myself up the slope, boots trying their hardest to find grip and using tree roots as hand holds. I then followed the track back up into the woods passing the head of a unicorn immortalised in concrete. The track had now joined a tarmac road or was it somebody's driveway, it didn't matter i found a gate and began the soggy hike across the fields.

The rain was beginning to gather in puddles and divets. The fields were gradually going squidgy, soft under foot, wet under foot. Passing from field to field sometimes passing through gates but often jumping the stone walls and fences all the time avoiding either electrocution but also being impaled or shredded. I thick mist began to descend and the views ahead vanished, engulfed.

I was now beginning to feel a dampness through my jackets and fleeces. I was quite literally wet to the skin. The fields were also worsening the longer i hiked it was quite frankly getting ridiculous. Coming to a road and dense forest blocking my way i headed inland to see where it lead and to see if i could find a quick route around.

Reaching the main road near Auchencairn and rain falling hard i decided to stick to the tarmac to Palnackie. From Palnackie I continued to follow the road to Dalbeattie where i stopped for a hot drink before carrying on to Kippford.

Alison brown had been following the trek and my progress as well as hand  drawing cartoons from photos I'd taken and uploaded to social media. To finally meet alison was quite the experience. Its funny that when interacting with social media friends you always create a picture of them in your mind. I don't think even i had truly expected to meet someone whos real life personality simply doesn't translate in virtual reality. Alison is a truly amazing individual and certainly not somebody you meet everyday.

After checking in to the room alison had arranged at the anchor inn i had a quick bath and hung up my clothes to dry out. I then joined alison in the bar for dinner and a chat. She'd also brought a few goodies,  a parcel from iain from craghoppers, a tube of arnica, new toothbrush, chocolate and other useful items, all very well thought out.

13th March day 372

Unlike the previous day it wasn't a particularly early start to the day. My boots although were drying in front of a radiator were still very wet.

After breakfast and reorganising my kit i left the anchor behind and proceeded to walk along the harbour front across a beach made entirely of sea shells towards Rockcliffe.  It wasn't all shells though, the tide was thankfully out and i was able to walk between the smaĺl boulders scattered along the shore.

Reaching Rockcliffe i left the shores and began to follow the nature trail being somewhat safer than getting stuck in the silty mud flats that make up this coast line. The trail took me around some private gardens and down to Rockcliffe bay. The bay was really quite quaint, sweeping round with sandy beaches and lunar rock formations.

Maybe the sun was getting to me, my bag was lighter,  or it possibly even that i was hallucinating, either way it felt good. It felt like i had a spring in my step. I continued to follow the coastal path to the castle view point where the panoramic views were outstanding.  I  could easily see the coast ahead of me and across to the English coastline stretching across the horizon never appearing to end or for that matter even start. Whats more i could see the landscape I'd just crossed during appalling conditions from a different  point of view,  as the eagle flies.

Looking along the  cliff face and down on the shoreline i had to make the decision whether to go low or high. Remembering the previous days antics and adventures i decided to stick to the coastal path i could see snaking over the sine curves of the peaks and trophs ahead. Maybe my confidence had been battered or that based on my experience coupled with what i had been told I'd simply decided it was simply too risky.

It was a peaceful plod up and over the serpents back all the time looking down on to the beach below like a falcon seeking its prey. The longer i spent looking down and hiking along the more and less convinced i became I'd made the right choice. It was certainly the safest.

Reaching the end of the beach and whilst descending the final slope, except it wasn't, i began to feel more inclined towards the "yes adam good decision" then i passed a narrow footpath coming from the shore. Which meant it was possible to negotiate, you loose.  I wasn't going back i just had to accept that this time good ol gut feeling was waaay out.

As i carried on my way the views continued to be outstanding and it wasn't long before I reached port o warren and beyond that sandyhills. Sandyhills overlooks an enormous expanse of sand while the tide is out. Whilst descending towards port o warren i remembered the invitation I'd been given to call by to visit tim, the gentleman I'd met in the tea pot a few days earlier. Upon pulling out the piece of paper he'd written his address on i realised he didn't live near port o warren but in fact Palnackie a small village I'd passed the day before.

I'd really wanted to hear more about tims travels and his eco friendly shipping company. I sent a text to see if he was still up for a meet, i got a reply and quarter of an hour later he met me in an awesome off road land cruiser, the land cruiser he drove around the world in. We then did something really quite unpressidented, i went back to Palnackie.

Arriving at tims warehouse, head office for the shipping company and home for tim. Apparently it was the oldest building in the village and sat opposite an old port, an ideal location for a shipping company don't you think. Inside the warehouse it was organised chaos with recycled timber, motors and all manor of items carefully distributed around the ground floor. In the far left corner  platform had been built housing a living space above and several bunks below. Tim has a vision, idealistic possibly, insanity most definitely not. It was here i decided to take a couple of nights out from the trek to delve further into the mind of this unique individual.

10th - 11th March

10th March day 369

It was a gorgeous spring morning, clear skies and birds singing when i woke. With hardlya breeze in the air i boiled my water for breakfast and gradually gathered myself together ready for the day ahead.

Continuing to nurse my knee which appeared to be improving daily i stuck to the track passing through i would guess a holiday village and out the other side. The calmness of the weather was unbelievable especially after hiking through the torrential rain the day before. Finding a coastal path marker i headed away from the track and began to follow the footpath.

Taking me across a field i found myself at an ancient harbour. There were three unusual stone columns erected in a perfect triangle. I wondered what they had been used for. Maybe tying a maiden to satisfy the hunger of a sea serpent. After taking a bit of time to clamber over the rocks and take a closer look i followed the shore as far as i could. The tide was out and the sand firm. As i walked away from the pillars i pondered at how ridiculous it was to think they'd tie a maiden to them, there were three pillars after all therefore room for three maidens which made more sense and i would guess sea serpents would be quite large and have an appetite to suit.

A little further along i came across a mini castle. I wasn't sure what or why but it intrigued me enough to make me stop and take a look round. It was certainly suitable for hobbits or gnomes. Maybe it was a gnome castle. Satisfied I'd unravelled the castle secrets i continued on my way. The rest of the day was easy, simply following the coast and enjoying the views lost in my own thoughts.

Before i knew it i could see Kirkcudbright ahead 3 maybe 4 miles away. I'd even almost forgotten about the twinges in my knee, well almost. Looking across the tidal bay at the peninsula i was tempted to unpack hoolley and cross over but having been warned about the tidal race and the fact I'd intended to visit the rnli station in the town continued to walk up to the bridge and into town.

Seeing a chinese takeaway open as soon as i hit the high street i decided to grab some sweet and sour chicken with a portion of chips. The station was closed so i contacted alison to see if she knew anyone i could see and get a look round the boathouse. Naturally she was right on the ball and after getting in contact with john the operations manager informed me she'd arranged an interview with the Galloway news, a photographer would be meeting with me 10am at the harbour.

It was still light and i had planned to keep going but pr was more important if i was to build awareness about the charities i supported. A woodland just beyond the town looked good for shelter so i decided I'd stop short and pitch up there after I'd met up with john at the station.

Arriving at the crew house i was greeted by john who kindly gave me some history and background about the station and crew and who also offered to take me to the boathouse which unusually is located 4.5 miles from Kirkcudbright. This is because the bay is massively tidal and if the boat was housed nearer the town they would have trouble launching in times of need.

The boathouse itself is one of the oldest in the rnli and still fully functional with launch ramp. Back at the crew house john then offered me the floor for the night which was much better than the 3 mile hike to the woods and 3 mile hike back the following morning to meet the journalist.

11th March day 370

It was a blustery day when i woke. Poking my head out of the rnli station to check the weather i wasn't sure if it was going to rain or not. I checked the weather forecasts for the area and it seemed like there was the possibility later that day.

Packing my sleeping bag which i still had to wrestle with on a daily basis one of the seams burst and i found myself covered in duck feathers. It was a messy disaster.  I cleared up and made repairs doing my best to sew the seam back together.

Leaving the station it began to rain. The forecasters had for once got it right, unfortunately. Where had the sun disappeared to that i had the pleasure of hiking in the day before. I had plenty of time to get to the reporter so i gradually made my way to the harbour. It was quite chilly and i could feel a bite on my fingers as i arrived at the meeting place.

After posing for a couple of photos down on the harbour it began to rain so i headed off to find a cafe to indulge myself with a mocha and put my wet weathergear on. Whilst sat in Mulberries i  was invited to  join a very exclusive  group for coffee before heading off in the rain.

Before leaving Kirkcudbright i had to take a closer look at the old castle. It was an extremely good example of traditional Scottish castle however it was closed to the public. A little gutted i couldn't take a look round the inside i headed out of the town.

As i left the centre of Kirkcudbright and reached the outskirts i came upon a sign pointing the way to St marys circular, an additional 3 miles hike I'd not realised I'd have to do. You could say not carrying a map somewhat holds me to a disadvantage but for me it adds to the adventure, not knowing where I'm going means that every decision takes me into the unknown, tests my versatility and fuels my insatiable apatite to explore.

Despite the rather damp start to the day it was quite a nice hike around st marys circular which i assume was named after mary queen of scots. Leaving the circular via a different path to the one i started the walk on i decided to stick to the road to avoid the strong gusts and swampy and slippery salt  banks of the tidal bay.

Although the lifeboat station was over 4 miles away i made good time getting back out to it. Taking shelter beneath the trees i stopped for short break and watched the waves rolling in passed the boathouse. Feeling quite energised i was hoping the rest of the day would continue to go smoothly.

Leaving the boat house i hiked along a muddy track, i could feel my socks getting damp. The track took me through the woods and up to a field where i was now completely exposed to the elements. The day was about to get tougher. Hiking across the field i saw a gate which led me out on top of the cliffs and probably not the best place to be in high winds. The temperature was beginning to drop drastically with the wind beating against me lifting my baseball cap as i battled on. Not wanting to lose the cap and certainly not wanting to get brain freeze i swapped the cap for my beanie. As i continued along the clifftops i could only imagine what sentries posted at the mod firing range would think as i approached their boundaries.

Reaching the mod firing range i was pleased to see the flags lowered and sentry box empty. Passing through the gate and entering the range i decided to stick to the designated trail to ensured i wouldn't get blown up. Signs dotted along the route saying things like "controlled impact area" and "don't touch anything it may explode " reinforced my decision.

The range itself was massive but as i gradually made my way across the  sun came out. It looked like it could possibly turn out to be a nice day. Continuing to follow the finger posts showing the safe route across the range i found some old rusty tanks. They'd obviously been put there to be used as targets. They weren't far from the path and figuring that you could only do something stupid the once and that this was as good a time as any to be stupid i ventured towards the relics for a closer look.

Perched on the hill near to the cliffs and near to a large metal structure i guess had to be a target for either gunships or aircraft i found three tanks, none of which were modern but still recognisable as tanks. The view was pretty good too. It was hard to imagine only that morning thick mist, barraging rain and strong winds were engulfing the coast and obscuring the views.

Heading back to the trail and looking inland i could see about half a dozen bunkers buried in the hills. I can only guess they were used during the war to defend the solway from nazi attack. I didn't really know but  the theory seemed sound.

After many miles of hiking through the range and passing more tanks i eventually ended up hiking through a forest still following the finger posts. The track eventually stopped at the top of the cliffs. From there i had no choice but  to climb a gate into a field where i could follow the clifftops. As i looked out across the water i noticed a large wind farm out at sea and beyond that something i wasn't expecting. Land. To be more precise England. It was closer than i had  thought.

I continued to follow the coast crossing several fields thankfully i didn't have to climb and electrified fences, gates had been provided. Approaching a small woodland and with the sun slowly setting i decided to stop and set up camp.

As the sun sank below the horizon and i sat beneath my tarp boiling my water i could see lights across the sea as England prepared its evening meal and sat in front of their televisions.

9th March day 369

It was a very wet and dreary start as i left Newton Stewart and followed the A road towards Creetown. The rain simply didn't let off one bit. With very little visibility i kept my head down and just kept putting one foot  in front of the other. My boots were now feeling like they were leaking and without checking i was sure my socks were wet.

After a fair hike i saw a small hut at the side of the road, lorries and vans parked up alongside it. It had to be a cafe. I went over, sure enough my prayers had been answered, metaphorically speaking. A place to rest and dry out. Whilst sat enjoying a nice hot coffee at the tea pot, skyreburn a chap came in wearing an expolice riot suit and fantastically unique beard. Tim Dennis was a local of sorts. As we chatted and he ate his lunch tim entertained me with some fantastic stories of his past travels. Before he left he jotted some details on a scrap of paper and told me to stop by when i got to Palnackie. He also called an artist friend of his alice frances who lived on a farm a couple of days hike from where i was and arranged a stop over for me there.

Before tim went on his way he handed me a fiver to get myself a coffee further up the coast which i put under my phone while i went toilet. Unfortunately when i returned the money had gone. My feeling is that the lady serving had it away. Its a shame that such a thing should happen but with no proof there was nothing i could confront her with. I  felt sorry for the lady as i gethered my kit together, she must have really needed the money for her to have so blatantly taken it from me and it was ultimately my fault for leaving temptation on the table in plain sight. I just hoped that it would go to some good in the end and not towards supporting a habit of any kind.

Not wanting to hang about any longer i finished my coffee and headed off to see if i could get a few more miles in before setting up camp for the night. As i left the cafe the rain ceased and the wind died down. The sun came out and for the rest of the day it felt quite pleasant. I continued to follow the road until i reached the bridge opposite a grand castle ruin where i was able to drop down onto a farm track. On both sides of the track were what appeared to be electrified fences and having learnt my lesson the hard way a few days earlier i decided to stick to the track.

The two short days I'd spent hiking had given my knee a chance to heal a little and that had now paid off. I'd made excellent progress even in the dreadful weather. Continuing to stay on the track i passed through a small farm and kept hiking. Eventually i came out at a caravan park and seeing a tap grabbed the chance to fill my bottles before heading off once more.

A few miles later i could see the sun beginning to set and with a small woodland ahead decided i should find somewhere sheltered should the weather change again as it has known too.

8th March day 367

Althoughthe wind had been blowing hard all night when i woke it appeared everything was calm. The sun was even attempting to make an appearance. Whilst making my breakfast i took the opportunity to have a look at the satellite images of the day ahead to see if i could spot anywhere that would be suitable to cross the estuary in hoolley thus saving a days hiking. There were a few possibilities but it all depended on the tides.

Leaving the warehouse i walked through the town when it occurred to me just how many bookshops there were there. It seemed like every other store sold books. Some shops even boasting a coffee shop or cafe inside so you could relax while you browsed the pages of the literature you'd just bought or were thinking of buying.

Back hiking the coast I'd spend the morning crossing salt marshes and fields looking out at the water.  The tide was low and having been warned by megan from the coastguard that the area was prone to soft sand i decided not to risk finding out first hand. This left me with just one option, to make the long hike to the nearest bridge near the town if Newton Stewart. It was quite a hike and with my knee still in discomfort took me hours to get to. What was worse was also knowing I'd have to follow the river for miles back to the coast near the village of Creetown.

Other than a few light showers and a couple if gusts of wind the hike was pleasant enough. Reaching Newton Stewart a little after 2pm i decided to seek out a cafe for a lunch break. I was considering using hoolley to pack raft back to the sea but having seen a few dodgy sections of the river near the mouth of the estuary and a couple of possibly shallow corners i decided again to play it safe and stick to dry land.

Finding a cafe wasn't particularly difficult or time consuming however getting served was. The little coffee shop was somewhat laid back taking over an hour to cook a gammon steak and chips. It was filling though. As i wandered up the high street of this large town and feeling a little parched and in need of an orange juice i came across the black horse pub which where i met marcus, a well travelled local with many a tale of misadventure. After the 4th pint of tenants it was late, very late and time to call it a night.

6th - 7th march

6th March day 365

Exactly 1 year ago on this day at 10am i took the first step of my marathon 6600 mile trek around Britain's coastline. In some ways it feels like an eternity yet in others it seems like only yesterday.  I have walked so far, seen so much, experienced highs and lows and met some phenomenal people. I have stayed in birdhides, bunkers, horse boxes, caves and while sat eating my smooth oats with raspberries i find myself in a coastguards hut. Still having a couple of thousand miles ahead i wonder what the future brings and if this journey as in any way changed me.

One thing i did know for certain though was if I'd carried a map with me yesterday would have probably ended slightly differently. Whilst eating my evening sweet n sour meal i noticed a local area o/s map opened up resting on the desk in front of me. Curiosity got the better of me and i had to take a closer look at the stretch of coast I'd abandoned. Annoyingly i located the track I'd come across and turned left inland towards the road, if I'd have turned right and followed the track towards the sea about a mile later i would have picked up a coastal path that would have taken me right along the cliffs all the way to the isle of Whithorn. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I couldn't turn back the clocks now but for the rest of the evening i was haunted by what ifs and felt a little gutted by not knowing what I'd missed.  My knee was still hurting and well it looked a little swollen and off colour. My injuries were worse than i could have expected and although i knew i needed to take care on the following days hikes i also knew i didn't want to miss any more of this beautiful coastline.

At 9am i was to be meeting with Curtis from the free press. Leaving the coastguard hut behind me i headed down to the harbour for my photo opportunity and interview. Unfortunately Curtis wasn't able to make it but he had called the coffee shop to explain and hold the interview over the phone. It was a shame as  had while walking down decided to ask him for a lift back to where i had left the coast so i could tackle the 4 miles of coastal path I'd missed. It was too far to hike back too so i decided instead to carry on towards Wigtown.

Leaving the coffee shop i went back to following the coast deep down hoping i wouldn't come across any more electrified fences or barbed wire. I didn't have to hike long offroad before i joined a coastal path which in comparison to what i was used to was easy going and whats more even though i often came across electrified fences there were plenty if metal kissing gates that thankfully weren't electrified.

Hiking overthe clifftops was easy enough and meant that i could go easy on my knee which was a little agrivated from the accident the day before. The wind was strong as it howled across the hills and i often found myself having to pay attention to my balance as i was knocked sideways by its tremendous force.

Entering into one field i could see an unusual arch perched ontop of a cliffy outcrop ahead. It looked like a stargate, you know like from the film. As i got closer my opinion didn't change there was something quite astronomical about it. Unfortunately i hadn't found an inter dimensional gateway to the stars it was in fact all that remained of an old castle but even up close it looked like a portal to another realm.

Having investigated the arch closely i continued across the fields on the clifftops until i reached another archway, this one was made of trained shrubs. Through the archway i entered into a very different world, a woodland sheltered from the elements. The coastal path continued through the woods and eventually brought me out at Garlieston where i stopped at the local pub on the harbour for a coffee and not being to sure if I'd find any streams ahead i topped up my water bottles.

From the harbour i rentered some woods and continued to follow the coastal path again nicely sheltered from the wind which appeared to be picking up strength. Nearly Reaching the far end of the woods after a couple of hours hiking i decided to find a nice place to set up camp and settled in for a celebratory anniversary chicken tikka curry followed by custard with apple and a coffee.

7th March day 366

It was a misty morning, looking out from beneath the tarp i gazed out across the bay towards the peninsula opposite. I couldn't see it, i knew it was there but all i could see was white. Being slow to crawl out from my sleeping bag i eventually organised my head and began boiling the water to make up my breakfast.

Sheltered beneath the trees and snuggly tucked up behind an ivy covered slope i could hear the wind howling above me.  It wasn't raining and although the clouds were hanging low i felt quite sure it would remain dry.

After packing away i set off and continued along the stony shore line the woodland still to my left but not for long. As i had expected a little further the woods ended and i found myself exposed and trudging through long grass. It was hard going but seeing Wigtown ahead i felt my spirits lift. Wigtown is a small village that doesn't make wigs or indeed have anything to do with hair pieces whatsoever. It does boast Scotlands largest secondhand bookshop though and after receiving a message from alison brown it would be the place i would meet shaun, shaun with the messy hair and tattery jumper. What you see is what you get shaun. Well thats what the message said.

From where i was it wasn't a straight forward hike into the village reaching a rather wide river and wind being a tad gusty i had to walk up stream until i found a road and bridge. From the bridge and with the wind at my back i soon hiked in to the village centre where sure enough i found the green door of the book shop with concrete book spirals and two benches.

Shaun wasn't there but explaining the message I'd Recieved to nancy, who was covering for shaun while he was at a book auction, i was welcomed in, shown around the store which has over a mile of shelving and told to put the kettle on to make tea.

While i waited for shaun i decided to hit a nearby cafe for a bite to eat and a mocha. On getting back to the shop shaun had returned but only for a short while. I shown to the back door and taken to where the Wigtown book festival book club meet. A small building with four antique tables with chairs and a sofa. Considering i was expecting a warehouse this turned out to be luxury.

We had a very quick chat about the trek before shaun apologised and had to go get ready to leave. The description I'd Recieved was fairly accurate and a shame we didn't have time to chat longer.

5th March day 364

I didn't particularly want to leave the comfort of the bed but i was also eager to make tracks. As i ate my breakfast also courtesy of the Monreith arms i gazed through the windows at the skies. It looked pretty grey out there and not at all like the fantastic day I'd had walking to port William.

Taking it all in my stride i left the port following the road south. A couple of miles from the village i came across an information board that not only gave details about the area but also showed the location of an unusual monument dedicated to Gavin maxwell an author who I'd been introduced to the works of when I'd gone through Glenelg at the end of October. He'd lived in a cottage near to Glenelg whilst writing one of his more famous works "ring of bright water". A map on the board showing the location of the monument along the coast looked as though i was to pass it by following a short coastal path just ahead of me.

Sure enough after hiking downto the small stony bay below and then back up onto the cliffs i came upon a life size bronzed sculpture of an otter standing on a large boulder looking out to sea. I was impressed at how, like the green man, life like it was. Deciding that once i got back to Southampton i would have to obtain a copy of the book i set off towards the golf course that sat on the coast.

Descending down a track towards the golf course i had a good view of the terrain ahead. It was particularly overgrown with gorse bushes and some steep slopes looked impassable especially at high tide. Deciding not to risk injury or further agrivating my knee injury i turned around and headed back up the track towards a field. A break in the dry stone wall gave me the perfect opportunity to climb up and jump over the barbed wire fence and into a field, this i hoped would make my day slightly easier and my destination for the day was to be the isle of Whithorn, 11 miles by road or approximately 18 following the coast.

Back to hiking undulating landscapes jumping dry stone walls, barbed wire fenced and occasionally getting electrocuted it would seem would now be the extent of the challenge at least until i reached England again.

After a couple of hours of hiking, clambering and electrocution i was beginning to have enough of this coast line. It seemed that if i wasn't attracting the attention of herds of cattle or startling sheep and their lambs i was having to trudge through gorse bushes or avoid touching electrified fences which it would appear were armed in these areas.

After the fourth electric shock of the day I'd pretty much had enough. If I'd wanted electro shock treatment i could check myself into a mental hospital back home. The icing on the cake happened  a couple of fields later, whilst climbing over yet another dry stone wall my right trouser leg snagged on some barbed wire sending me crashing to the ground, my face planted firmly in the grass and my pack crushing my chest as i landed. That was the final straw and once again twisting my left knee i decided this route was too dangerous and made my way inland towards a gate and nearby track.

It was particularly painful as i hobbled along but i wasn't ready to call it a day just yet. With determination in my eyes i focussed on the road ahead hoping the tarmac would make my journey a little easier. Granted I'd have to stop for a five minute break every twenty minutes of hiking but nothing was going to stop me from at least Reaching my predetermined destination.

I probably walked about four miled before arriving in the village and I'll be honest i was nearly in tears. Seeing st Ninians community coffee shop lifted the spirits though so i thought I'd treat myself to a panini and mocha whilst enjoying the views. Whilei was relaxing and tucking in to my tucker i was approached by one ofthe waitresses who'd seen details of the trek on Facebook. She'd had a word with the manager and arranged to cover the cost of my lunch in exchange for a quick photo op. It seemed like a fair deal to me.

Before leaving the coffee shop i mentioned to the girls I'd been having problems getting reception on my phone and that i needed to contact the free press to arrange an interview, as it turns out all around the area phone coverage is weak at best but being typical lovely west coasters they offered me the use of the office phone. Finally being able to touch base with the reporters i arranged to meet at the coffee shop the following morning which meant my day was essentially over. A welcome thought and a time to rest my injuries all i needed now was somewhere to set up camp.

Again i asked the locals if they knew of somewhere sheltered i could set up my tarp. Nothing sprang to mind other than a few trees behind the isle of Whithorn coastguard hut which I'd passed as i limped into the village. Megan, the extremely helpful waitress, as it turns out was a member of the local coastguard.

While i gathered my bits together megan had run off to find her chief who, upon hearing about the trip instructed megan to offer me the use of the coastguard hut for the night. I'd stayed in many odd places over the past 12 months but never in a coastguard hut.

The hut was essentially two garages put together with a kitchen, toilet and shower room attached to the back. It  was perfect and there was even a small square of carpet just big enough for me to sleep on. After having a couple of coffees and a shower i headed over to the community hall to join the locals for a game of carpet bowls, a game i didn't even know existed let alone how to play. The outcome was that both teams i joined lost but for a first go i don't think i did too bad. It was a lovely break from my normal nights under the tarp and i was made to feel extremely welcome. Its times like these that make the trek extra special and you forget about the pains and instances of electrocution.

4th March day 363

When i woke the it was looking a little dreary. I was planning on making my way to port William which was a fair hike but but having set off early and the route round fairly flat i figured it was a worthwhile target.

With the tide out i left Sandhead and set off along the compact sandy beach crossingthe mod bombing range. The flags were still lowered which I figured was a good sign. My pack was light as I'd almost used up all my rations which allowed me to make light work of the walk.

It didn't take long for me to cover the 5 miles of beach but reaching a wide and fairly deep river i had to make my way towards a nearby woodland to find a way across. I had considered using hoolley and although it was a glorious sunny day there was still quite a strong wind blowing churning up the water. Reaching the woods i found a track which was easy to follow and eventually it took me to a bridge. I  was making extremely good progress. The time I'd spent in the hills lugging my load through the marshes and bogs, scaling steep slopes and climbing cliffs was now paying off.

Taking a quick breather i spotted a mobile mast nearby so decided to see if i could get my messages. Sure enough a rampage of texts came through, one from frances who'd received my next package of rations. I gave her a quick call and we arranged to meet so i could stock up again. The signal was still patchy but I managed to direct frances to me using landmarks i could see and it wasn't long before I could see her car driving towards me.

Having a bit of time to kill frances offered to take my back on to the cock inn a few miles away. Not having to carry my pack especially fully loaded is always a welcome break for both my knees, back and shoulders. Knowing I'd have another river to cross just passed the local golf club i stayed on the road and was eventually able to empty the contents of the parcel into my pack in the car park of the inn.

The cock inn wasn't open but Christine, the new owner who'd heard about my challenge via Facebook was more than happy to make me a coffee before i set off again now fully loaded with my pack almost bursting at the seams.

The sun had stayed with me all day and it didn't look like that was going to change any time soon. The hike to port William was also going to be a breeze following the road alongside the coast all the way.

A few days earlier I'd received a message from Alison brown, a long time follower of the trek, she'd contacted PIRSAC (port william inshore rescue service) the local privately run voluntary lifeboat service to see if they could assist me with a place to stay. Upon arriving at the port i was instructed to meet george at the boat house on the harbour for a quick tour of their facilities. Alison had also arranged for a brick to be dedicated to the trek which would help the crew construct a new boathouse, the old one having been a coal store and used by the service for 35 years to store the boat which itself was 15 years old. A grant issued by the fisheries commission would now allow them to buy a new boat, land rover and two storey boathouse on the harbour.

As with the guys at the rnli stations i was welcomed with a coffee and open arms and after paying a quick visit to the green man, Christine had insisted i must see, i was taken to the Monreith arms to settle in, have dinner and spend the evening repairing my trousers which were now torn and tattered.