A good long walk

Wake at 5:30 after a good night's sleep then roll over and don't wake up until nine o'clock and then face the dilemma of whether to rush to catch the five to ten Scarborough bus or not. Short of the house being on fire, rushing is a bad idea, so make breakfast, smoked salmon with cream cheese on rye toast with black coffee, and take this in the garden room. Outside it's cloudy but dry, and I settle to going for a long walk locally, so after showering and dressing, put on my walking boots and then pack my medium size bum bag. The contents include a cagoule, hat, two oranges, an apple, five fruit oaties and a bottle of water. Bum bags are better than rucksacks because the weight is carried lower and hence the back and neck don't get tired. I'm wearing just jeans, shirt and a golf jumper, which is light but wind proof, the weather is cool outside, but I feel comfortable. I make my way to Hull bridge via the snickett to Carr Lane and then through the village and onto Weel Road. Once over the footbridge, I turn north and follow the path, after ten minutes, or so, I get a text from Sarah to say she has passed her exams, I text back my congratulations, she has passed her podiatry degree. No mean feat when you are a single mum with three kids and a sixty mile each way commute! I am walking alongside the west bank of the river Hull, after another half a mile I meet old Eric and his border terrier, just opposite a new woodland, called Storkhill Wood, Eric is an old East Riding country lad and knows everybody and everything in the town. I stop and chat for ten minutes and he gives me the background to the wood, a local farmer did a deal with DEFRA, and donated it for public use apparently. After waving Eric goodbye I continue up the path on the top of the levee, the grass has grown knee high either side of the narrow path and soon my jeans bottoms are wet. An easterly wind is blowing but I still feel warm enough, after another half a mile I cross a style and the grass is short again, because cows are grazing on the land between the river and Barmston drain, a man made waterway that runs parallel to the Hull. There are ducks nesting in the reeds on the drain and the mother flies off as a decoy, whilst the tiny ducklings speed and hide back under cover. A little further on two swans are swimming by the bridge that leads over the drain to Arram Road, the bridge is opposite Eske nature reserve that I ran round a few weeks ago. Over the bridge and past the farm, I turn left onto a bridle path, there are wheat fields either side of me and bright red poppies flowering at their edge. I have been walking for an hour plus the ten minutes stopping for a chat with Eric. The bridle path comes to a T junction, left goes back to the river and right leads south towards the airfield at Leconfield. This is a road less travelled and the path is less distinct and the grass long again, after half a mile, I come to the abandoned farm house, overgrown with brambles and elders and speculate about what it would take to put it back together. The location is wonderful at least a mile from the nearest road and only the noise from an occasional train on the Hull to Scarborough line to bother you. The crossing over the line is about a quarter of a mile further on and once I'm safely over, a southbound diesel rumbles past. I am now following the Minster Way, a long distance path that links York and Beverley Minsters, hence the name. It runs parallel to the railway line for a quarter of a mile and then turns west to Chestnut farm, which has a for sale sign up. From the farm there is a metalled road for half a mile before the path diverts along a hedge by more wheat and brings me out on the bypass, opposite the Hayride pub. Across the road and through the pub car park, the Minster Way joins the Hudson Way, which is macadammed for the next half mile. It brings me out on the Copandale estate, and from here it's only another mile to the leisure centre, where I plan to have a break for lunch. I make my way through the town centre and buy a Guardian to read over lunch, walking down Eastgate, where I used to live, I decide to walk past the Friary and use the footbridge over the railway line. From the top of the bridge I have a birds eye view of the new Flemingate development, the site is now cleared and foundations for the new buildings are being laid. This time next year it will be completed and we will have a new multiplex cinema and theatre, as well as shops, an hotel and houses on the site. From here it's only a short walk to the leisure centre and I arrive about a quarter to two, just over three hours since leaving home. The visitor village and concert tents for the folk festival are all up and the staff in the centre are beavering away to get ready for the thousands of tourists who will arrive tomorrow. There are no specials on the menu, just sausage and bacon sandwiches, so I just order tea and eat my oaties, whilst reading the paper and doing the sudoku puzzle. I leave at ten to three and make my way back via Beckside where the water lilly are starting to bloom. From Beckside I make my way back to the river Hull and walk along the wall on the eastern bank. In one of the boatyards someone has made a small boat into a U-boat, further along there are a flock of geese by the river and all the ponies are back on swinemoor grazing. After a mile or so, I come to the path that takes me home across the fields, which are also sown to wheat. Hundreds of rabbits scamper out of the field and into the wood as I walk past, before making my way into the plantation and through "almost straight wood" and then back across the little wooden bridge over the drain to Carr Lane. Down the lane, at the farm, half a dozen baby alpaca are grazing in the paddock next to the farm house. I thought they were Llama's but the local paper corrected my error. Back through the snickett onto Green Lane and I'm home, six hours after I left, a walk of between ten and twelve miles. I take off my muddy boots and then once indoors, put the kettle on and start to prepare dinner. I have some cannelloni, stuffed with the last of the lamb mince in tomato sauce, that I made last night, so all I need to do is knock up a bechamel sauce and stick it in the oven for half an hour. I drink tea and listen to the news whilst my cannelloni cooks, the alarm on the oven tells me it's ready about six. I'm starving, but have to wait ten minutes for it to cool, but then I eat the lot. No leftovers today! Dessert is tinned figs and yogurt and then later I read until bedtime. It's wonderful to feel well again!