Introduction


When we started walking the coast of England we had no intention that this would become a major lifetime project. Having to make a last-minute arrangement for our summer holiday in 1987, we said "Let's go to the nearest piece of coast and see how far we can walk along it." It turned out well and we started adding further stretches of coast, initially once every two years, but soon annually, or even twice a year.

We had always enjoyed the coast - there is something refreshingly "edgy" about having the sea always at our side, and one of us was into marine molluscs. We also enjoyed long-distance walking and had long been involved in general natural history recording. This project enabled us to combine all three interests.

You soon discover when embarking on a project like this that you need a few rules, which evolve from the first experiences. Our main rule was that we should walk as close to the coast as possible, which meant beach-walking whenever we could (unlike the official coast paths that largely remain above shore, recognising that at high tides the beach may be inaccessible). The route should also be capable of being a continuous walk, so that when we came to an unfordable river we walked inland along its banks to the first place at which we could cross, whether a bridge or a ferry.

We only carried light packs, so that at the end of each day's walk we had the problem of getting back to our car where we started. Initially we walked back, but soon realised we would be walking the coast twice this way! We used public transport whenever this was available - buses or trains, sometimes adjusting our start and finish points to make this easier. Failing this - and it was often not possible - we would phone for a taxi (an increasingly costly option over the years). Having our car with us gave us more freedom as to where we could stay at night - and after a day walking and only light food we were usually ready for being spoiled by a good meal and a comfortable bed! Even so, we stayed on the coast itself whenever there was a decent option.

Each walk was made for enjoyment, it was not a route-march to see how quickly we could get it finished. We therefore took it gently at times when passing through pleasant scenery or where there were many plants or creatures to record.

In terms of biological recording, we systematically noted every bird, butterfly, creature or sea-shell that we came across, sometimes spending time searching for the shells. We could not record every plant in the same way - there are too many common ones - so we were more selective, noting all coastal plants and any others that were not run-of-the-mill.

In our daily posts, edited from our original diaries, we include a star-rating from no star to **** according to our subjective estimate as to how special that day was from the point of view of natural history. This score (and our daily records) will, however, have been affected by the weather - it is difficult to appreciate the environment fully, for instance, in torrential rain, and there are many more butterflies and other insects to be seen in warm sunshine!

A summary of all our natural history records on the walk can be found using this link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1LLGD55lKRHYXd1SGU1QndrcUU/edit?usp=sharing





Tuesday, 28 January 2014

Cumbria: Burgh-by-Sands to Carlisle Centre 26/6/2005***


 

River Eden opposite Rockcliffe
 
Carlisle Castle
 
Central Carlisle
 
Indian balsam
In Burgh we took a minor road north from near the church for about a mile, until we could see the King Edward I monument standing fenced alone on the saltmarsh.  We took the road east to the River Eden, as the south bank is followed by a footpath all the way to Carlisle.  The path varied between easy pasture, long grass meadow, barley crops, steep damp woods, and crumbling banks scoured by January’s floods.  In places the fences were still hung with flood debris.  Some parts of the river had shallows and sandbanks showing deposition and on the opposite side eroded banks, beneath which the river ran fast and deep, still widening its curves.  We left the river briefly along lanes at Beaumont and Grinsdale.  Goosanders, mallards and oyster-catchers were common on the water.  We had lunch on a comfortable wooden seat just north of Grinsdale, ideally situated on the grassy bank overlooking an idyllic stretch of river riffling over shallows and swirling in the deeper parts, between two sandy banks perforated by sand martin nests.  The martins were continually wheeling past us catching insects and taking them back to their young.  Opposite, a heron was catching innumerable fish where they were channelled into the shallows.  A couple of swifts swept overhead.  Several swans swam sedately by.  Briefly a kingfisher or a beautiful demoiselle would flash past, both iridescent in the sun.  A moorhen appeared from the reeds.  We could have stayed there forever, the hour a highlight of the whole coast walk.  It was reluctantly that we got up to wander into the outskirts of Carlisle, but even in the centre we seldom saw houses, the river creating a green corridor of quiet unspoiled nature screening industries and settlements, only briefly crossed by power lines or a railway bridge.  Here however the banks of the river were swamped by a huge population of Indian balsam eradicating all else.  Other garden escapes included kerria and Himalayan cotoneaster.  At the very end we passed a small industrial area and then a park of wasteland and grass with sports facilities where people played or basked in the sun, it being Sunday, remarkably uncrowded for a city environment.  Across the park was Carlisle Castle, 900 years old, mostly red brick and home to an army regiment.  From there we entered the oldest part of the city, with the new millennium museum, cathedral, town hall, and the famous curse written on a large boulder.  At the central plaza with the usual shop chains, we were just in time to get a coffee at Costa.  This was a satisfying and relaxing approach to a city.
Curse stone
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