Littlebeck to Robin Hoods Bay Day 16

Our final two days of walking were unusual in that we started downhill for a change. Yesterday it was Red House Farm down to Beggar's Bridge and today it was Intake Farm down to Littlebeck.  From there we had a gradual ascent through the woods of oak and beech and alder past Falling Foss, a 20m waterfall, and the hollowed out stone of The Hermitage where the acoustics were so wonderful we sang "Hey Rain" and a few French songs to celebrate 14th July.

Through the Littlebeck Forest

Testing the acoustics at The Hermitage

May Beck

Once we got up onto open moors again we could see the North Sea, suddenly very close, and it seemed like an easy stroll to High Hawsker for lunch. However the Graystone Hills are not well signposted and we strayed briefly onto another path.  For the first time on the entire walk I felt the need to check our location on the GPS on the iPad.  We discovered we were only about 10 metres from the right path and were soon back on track.

Prior to that our trek across the moor had been interrupted by an encounter with an adder basking on the path.  It slid lazily and innocently away and did not seem at all perturbed by our presence.  However the Welsh doctor we met at Intake Farm assured us that a couple of people die every year from adder bites so we treated it with due respect.

At close quarters with an adder

After lunch at High Hawsker we walked on until we rejoined the Cleveland Way along the North Sea coast.  We were not quite at our destination ... but we had walked coast to coast!  The last few kilometres were an easy stroll along the cliffs which we did not want to rush.  After 300 km we did not want this to end and would readily have walked on and on if the North Sea were not in the way.  The sun had come out and would accompany us all the way home.

Reaching the North Sea coast

Our first glimpse of Robin Hoods Bay came with less than a kilometre to go. Robin Hoods Bay, a charming old fishing village with its labyrinthine streets and alleyways.  One day soon, maybe a 100 years from now, the North Sea will claim it, just as it has swallowed so much of the east coast in recent centuries.  Or perhaps the concrete sea wall will extend its life for a few hundred years more.  Let's hope so.

In sight of Robin Hoods Bay

We trundled into town with both joy and sadness.  We met Tony and Angela from Wales, already aboard the 4pm Packhorse bus about to go back to Kirkby Stephen.  They bolted from the bus to congratulate us.  There was a private feeling of camaraderie that was out of reach of the day trippers and holiday makers around us.

Further down the road we met Ian and Rosalie from Lincolnshire as they made their way back up the hill.  Again there was a genuine warmth that came from sharing the coast to coast experience. 

At last we reached the end of the road and there it was, after nearly half a million steps.  The North Sea at high tide, waves breaking a yard or two in front of us.  The Bay Hotel was to our left, bathed in sunlight with a dozen or more weary walkers quietly celebrating their personal achievements. 

Striding triumphantly into "Bay Town"

We took off our boots and dipped our toes in, much as we had at St Bees, which now seemed such a long, long time ago. We found our pebbles from the St Bees beach and hoicked them into the North Sea.  Maybe all these pebbles (some 12,000 a year) will help keep the east coast above water?

At the water's edge, pebble in hand

Then it was into the Bay Hotel to sign the register and call for a celebratory drink.  

Signing the register in the Bay Hotel

We walked back up the hill to our B&B before coming back for a meal.  We clung to the moment not wanting it to end, knowing that tomorrow we would be heading in different directions ... and in motorised vehicles at that.

The Bay Hotel and Wainwright's Bar

Every review of famous walks we have read puts the Milford Track as #1 but we can honestly say (having walked Milford in fantastic weather last year) that this was every bit as good, if not better.  

Credits:

• Heather, David and Nick - thanks for sharing the adventures with us
• Coast to Coast Packhorse - faultless, friendly service
• Our B&Bs, farmhouses and hotels - almost without exception they offered excellent accommodation, friendly service, affordable meals and satisfying drinks
• Those responsible for the three National Parks (lakes, dales, moors) and maintaining the quality of the Coast to Coast track and signposts
• Alfred Wainwright - what a great idea!
• The Met Office for giving us such great weather (even when you didn't predict it!)
• Our fellow coast to coast walkers, some of whom we never got to know on a names basis but they were nearly all cheerful, helpful and positive
• Our blog readers - thank you for your messages of support - they really helped!

Glaisdale to Littlebeck (via Whitby!) Day 15

Only one more day my Johnnies, one more day
Oh, rock and roll me over, one more day!

This was a special shanty sung by 19th century seamen who were returning home from a long trip and they knew they were just one day from land.

Well here we are in Littlebeck in North Yorkshire after 18 days plying the Lakes, Dales and Moors and only one day from the sea. The old refrain is running through my head with more than a little sadness.

We had an easy day of it. After our 29km haul across the moors yesterday we had a mere 13km to walk today, through forest along the banks of the Esk, through the villages of Egton Bridge and Grosmont and over the moor to Intake Farm just outside Littlebeck village.

Just outside Glaisdale is Beggar's Bridge with the delightful story of Thomas Ferris, a pauper who courted a rich squire's daughter. He determined to make his fortune at sea and tried to visit his sweetheart before he left but couldn't do so because the river was swollen after recent rains. He duly made his fortune and married his true love (a rare happy ending) and with his new-found wealth he built a bridge so that future lovers should not be kept apart by the Esk.

Beggar's Bridge, Glaisdale

Grosmont gave us the opportunity for a slight change of pace on this easier day, for the North York Moors Railway runs through Grosmont with its steam trains attracting railway buffs from far and near. In fact this was the train that was used as the Hogwarts Express in the original Harry Potter movie.

Grosmont station ... All aboard for Hogwarts!

So we opted for a trip to Whitby, partly out of nostalgia as Irene and I have fond memories of past visits and won't be back there this trip, but also out of expediency because we could use an ATM cash top up and Gen needed another camera chip. The 25 minutes we had in Whitby was just enough time to do this as well as mix with the hordes of visitors which we found slightly overwhelming after the solitude of the moors. (London's going to be a shock for us all!)

A flying visit to Whitby

Arriving back at Grosmont we climbed the last steep hill of the Coast to Coast walk up to Sleights Moor before arriving at our last rural B&B, with the very welcoming Judith and Rob our hosts for the evening and beef and lamb roasts in the oven.

Ancient standing stones on Sleights Moor (High Bride Stones)

It's just before dinner now and I think I can even smell Yorkshire Pud ... what a lovely way to finish!

Clay Bank Top to Glaisdale Day 14

After being dropped at Clay Bank Top to resume our walk we had a short, sharp climb onto Urra Moor.  Here, remarkably, was our first and only mist for the whole journey. It was thin, high and lasted only ten minutes.  This was a further instance of the good fortune we'd had with the weather ... and even this brief mist we encountered only because we started early to get stuck into the 19 miles of today's walk.

The 19 miles (29 km) worried us when we first looked at the itinerary but this is a good spot for a long hike as long as you don't get driving rain.  Much of it is on the old Rosedale Ironstone railway which has now been dismantled, leaving a wide cinder and pebble track with a gentle gradient through the moors. Consequently we averaged 5km an hour for much of the trip.

Mysterious face etched into old stone marker on Urra Moor - a neolithic smiley?

The old Rosedale Ironstone railway ... straight and flat!

However even easy walking needs a few breaks and The Lion Inn on Blakey Ridge road was a welcome sight when it came into view, even if it took us another half hour to reach it. We arrived just before lunch and had cafe lattes and hot chocolates, just beating two busloads of elderly tourists. They do a good business up there and have ten Real Ale taps so it must really buzz in the evenings.

Fat Betty (on the right)

Through the afternoon there were occasional showers but nothing uncomfortable.  We paid our tribute to "Fat Betty" where one is expected to leave a treat but also take one that has been left by earlier travellers. We sheltered from a brief shower and lunched outside Trough House, an old stone hut near Fryup Dale (love those names).

Trough House - locked, but provided a sheltering wall for lunch

Fryup Dale - home of the full English breakfast?

As we approached our destination, Glaisdale, we caught up with a weary hiker, one of the few who was not enjoying himself. He was travelling unbooked and had his camping gear on his back. We struck up a conversation and he said that despite his badly blistered feet he had been turned away from camping at the Lion Inn because he hadn't booked (even though they appeared to have ample room for campers). This seemed odd but we took him at his word. He refused an offer of Compeed for his blisters saying that he dare not take off his boots and look. His destination was Glaisdale station, then straight home by train. This seemed so sad considering he was only 1-2 days from completing the walk.

At Glaisdale we found our accommodation at the award winning Red House Farm B&B and were met with a friendly welcome and a hot cup of tea. We found we had caught up with our steady walking friends from Connecticut and they joined us for dinner at the Arncliffe Arms, along with Aileen and some others who had become C2C companions in recent days.

Most of those staying at Glaisdale were walking straight through to Robin Hoods Bay next day, a long haul of 20 miles. We were glad we had taken the extra day to stop at Littlebeck and then have a much more leisurely 12 mile walk on the final day to enjoy ourselves as we approached Robin Hoods Bay with a good measure of self satisfaction.

Ingleby Cross to Clay Bank Top Day 13

Most days on the coast to coast walk start with a climb. We had been spared this rude start for the last few days as we left Richmond and then Danby Wiske to cross the Vale of Mowbray. However on leaving Ingleby Cross we again had a steady climb as we joined the Cleveland Way and strode up through the woods to the purple heather blooming on the moors. What was becoming clear was that we were now fitter than when we started and the hills were not such a struggle. Well, not until you get several of them in a row, as we found out later in the day.

Joining the Cleveland Way as we climb above the Vale of York

The heather blooming on Scarth Wood Moor

When we reached Scarth Wood Moor we had our first glimpse of the industrial towns of Teesside off to the north east. We searched for a glimpse of the North Sea which had to be just beyond Teesside but the weather was dirty over that way so visibility was only fair. Some showers swept in from that way intermittently through the day but nothing heavy or persistent. This was just as well as walkers are very exposed to the elements up on the moors.

We followed the edge of the escarpment through the day which gave us great views across the coastal plain including our destination, Great Broughton, which was about 4 km off the route as there is no accommodation at Clay Bank Top itself. Along the way we did get our first glimpses of the North Sea. The end was in sight!

The Cleveland Plain from the moorland escarpment, Hartlepool (Teesside) just visible at top left

The track dipped and rose several times, each one meaning another 250m climb. This became pretty wearying at the end of the day. Our final climb took us up past the intriguing Wainstones, a jumble of rocks set like a huge sculpture on the side of the hill.

The Wainstones

Prospective coast to coast walkers should take note of the problem we had at the supposed end of our day's trek at Clay Bank Top. We had been advised that staff at the Wainstones Hotel (indeed any local accommodation) would be happy to come and pick us up from the roadside. The problem was the chronically bad mobile phone service away from the big cities. We were unable to get a signal from two different phone networks and were just about resigned to taking the treacherous 4km walk down the winding road with poor visibility and no verge, when along came our Irish friend, Aileen, and her B&B host who kindly rang the hotel for us. (He had a phone service that DID work!)

At Clay Bank Top nearly all the climbing on the walk was over. However ahead lay our longest day's walk, 19 miles (nearly 29km) to Glaisdale.

Danby Wiske to Ingleby Cross Day 12

In Montana they like to call it "big sky country". Here in Yorkshire they could well call it "big cloud country". The rain mostly stayed away but there was some fair old posturing from the dark clouds overhead and they made some formidable sculptures up in the celestophere. A camera can't really do it justice.

Yorkshire - Big Cloud Country

We continued through fairly flat farmland for another 12 mile day, talking to walkers along the way. One such walker was Aileen, a teacher from Ireland who had a sense of adventure and a glint of fun in her eye. We were due to stay in separate towns that night but we all agreed to get together the following night in Glaisdale for a pint or two.

Yorkshire wheatfield

As we approached Ingleby Cross we had to cross the busy and bothersome A19, possibly the most dangerous 20 metres of the whole trek as there is no footbridge or tunnel. Having negotiated the highway we entered Ingleby Arncliffe where there was a charity event with life sized fairy tale characters being recreated in gardens and on walls. The highlight was Rapunzel with her beckoning golden hair flowing down from the town's water tower.

Rapunzel letting her hair down

Park House was a mile up the road from the small village of Ingleby Cross. Here we were shown to a bedroom where the much admired Julia Bradbury had slept (the "Julia Bradbury Room" as it came to be known).

Julia Bradbury slept here ...

Di, our landlady, was about to leave for a big day out and asked us just to help ourselves to the bar on the honour system. Walkers are generally regarded as scrupulously honest in these parts. And so we were. After all, how would we find a getaway car?

Park House is on the western edge of North York Moors National Park. The uphill walking resumes the next day after a couple of leisurely days on the flat. If you stay at Park House it's not worth a late afternoon one-mile walk up to the rear of the ruins of Mount Grace Priory. They are supposedly worth a visit but if you go at all it should be earlier in the day when you might get value for your £4 entry fee. If you arrive after 4pm it may be better just to chill out at Park House over a pint of Wainwright Ale.

Richmond to Danby Wiske Day 11

We left Richmond by an alternative route pointed out to us by Ralph, our B&B host. It took us past the school where Lewis Carroll studied and (supposedly) past the green where he envisaged the Mad Hatters Tea Party. It also followed the route of the ill-fated drummer boy who was reputedly sent down a tunnel from Easby Abbey and told to keep drumming so they could work out where it led. A stone now marks the spot where the drumming stopped and the drummer was last heard.

More tangible was the evidence of Easby Abbey, an impressive ruin dating back to 1300, whose leaning wall was painted by Turner in about 1816. It looked as though it would fall down then and it does now, but it still stands.

Easby Abbey, Richmond

We rejoined the Swale for a while. After a day of rain upstream and more rain during our rest day it was now swollen and peaty brown but it was still a pleasant walking companion. The weather itself looked threatening at times but apart from an occasional light shower we were not troubled by rain.

The track passes through hundreds of acres of spud farm near Catterick. Well, those endless packets of crisps, the chip butties and all those fish and chip dinners have to come from somewhere, don't they?

After passing Catterick and leaving the Swale we headed on through Bolton-not-really-on-Swale hoping for a friendly farm or tea room. The guidebook says there are none but just as we gave up hope we saw a backyard tearoom in Bolton run by Esther, who - after some urging from walkers and others - only started serving teas this year. Hers was possibly the best cup of Yorkshire Tea we had tasted, but that might have just been due to unexpected providence when we were looking for a place to lunch. She says she makes "enough to feed the dogs". It doesn't sound like much but she and her partner work on a nearby farm and she has three hard working sheepdogs so they probably eat a bit!

Esther's tea garden and honesty box in Bolton-on-Swale

The hamlet of Bolton's other claim to fame is the gravestone and memorial to Henry Jenkins who is reported to have died at the age of 169. We put this in the same category of folklore as some of the earlier stories we heard about Lewis Carroll and the drummer boy.

We were now in the Vale of Mowbray, much reviled. by Alfred Wainwright who was very biased against flat, agricultural country ... he was always more at home in the lakes or on the high moors. However we found it a happy enough stroll on to Danby Wiske through farms and along quiet country roads.

Danby Wiske was Wainwright's "low point" in the whole route, both altitudinally (45m above sea level) and spiritually. He felt he was unwelcome there and could only get a packet of crisps at the pub. Well, we have good news for intending walkers. Firstly, the pub is in new hands after briefly closing down and they certainly welcome walkers. Secondly the locals are incensed that Wainwright has sullied their reputation and do what they can to make everyone feel welcome. Thirdly, in fairness to the original owners of the pub, when Wainwright called the husband was out working on a farm because the pub income was not enough to sustain them, and his wife who was quite ill was trying to manage the pub during the day on her own, so it was a brave effort just to keep the pub open. So he should have been grateful he was able to get a pint at all, never mind a full pub lunch!

A welcome sight: The White Swan in Danby Wiske

Some people walk right on past Danby Wiske but it was a convenient stop for us and a comfortable stay at Ashfield House. We would tackle the next part of the Vale on the following day, walking through to Ingleby Cross.

Richmond (rest day)

We stayed at 66 Frenchgate which was in the quarter of Richmond where the French workers and their families lived. They came to build some of Richmond's fine old buildings and even today a number of landmarks and street names still testify to their having lived here. In fact the name Richmond (the mother of all 50 or so Richmonds around the world) comes from the French "riche monte" meaning strong hill.

 66 Frenchgate, our B&B in Richmond

A special mention to the B&B at 66 Frenchgate. The views were spectacular from the high part of the town and the landlord, Ralph Doy, was a mine of local information and interesting history. He was also very helpful and later showed his worth when a Danish walker who had stayed there realised a day or two later that she had left her passport in one shop or another. After unsuccessfully trying to contact the shops she rang Ralph who walked around town asking in the shops on her behalf. Great service, though unsuccessful as it turned out.

In the Georgian Theatre at Richmond

The rest day was a slowish one, browsing shops and museums and antiquities. We ate a pretty disappointing meal at the chippy but lingered around the town square with its seven pubs on the promise of a folk session at the Bishop Blaize Hotel. (Bishop Blaize is the patron saint of wool combers, a piece of trivia that should either start a discussion or end one!)

A few people with guitars drifted in and later, and ominously, three bodhrans (goatskin hand drums) also appeared. However the session was lively, friendly and fun. Although nobody showed much skill with the bodhran they mercifully played them softly. The Australian visitors were the focus of the night as people tried to remember songs from or about Australia. The chap next to me sang the Eric Bogle song, "Now I'm Easy" and was delighted to learn from us what a cocky actually is (and why). Someone else sang "The Man From Kiandra". Geordie and I made our own contributions before the session disintegrated and we tumbled out just before midnight.

Reeth to Richmond Day 10

The path out of Reeth follows the Swale through pleasant farmland before heading northeast to Marrick. Here there is an old priory founded for Benedictine nuns who built the steep stairway between the priory and the village itself.

A little further on is one of those must-visit places on the walk, Elaine's Kitchen at Nun Cote Nook farm. Elaine is a cheerful, engaging Yorkshire woman who runs a busy household of five kids and helps run the farm but has also established a little niche with her kitchen tea room just 200 yards off the C2C track.

In Elaine's Kitchen

A number of these home-based tearooms and wayside honesty boxes have sprung up along the way. For us they not only offer a timely pick-me-up of Yorkshire Tea or a snack but give us a chance to meet some of the locals in their native habitat. This could conceivably get out of hand and spoil the walk with too much commercialisation but so far that hasn't happened. They appear pretty much where you need them and it seems to be as much a service to walkers as it is a supplement to farm income, so it has actually enhanced the walk.

Elaine chatted freely in her broad Yorkshire accent about life on the farm including her prize winning Cheviot sheep flock. She also showed us her kitchen, the ceiling of which was no longer visible due to the many show ribbons and rosettes that hung from it.

Elaine with just some of her championship ribbons

After a look around the old Church of St Edmund the Martyr in Marske (he was a Saxon king put to death by the Danes in 870 AD) we lunched under Applegarth Scar and soon caught our first glimpse of Richmond where we were due to have our second rest day.

A short sharp shower as we entered the town didn't dampen our spirits. In fact it was extra incentive for us to pop into the booking office for the old (and England's only) Georgian theatre in close to it's original state. It was built by the prolific Samuel Butler in 1788, the same year that the First Fleet dropped anchor in Port Jackson. It was closed and used for other purposes for 100 years but has progressively been revived and restored since the 1940s.

As luck would have it we were able to book tickets for a one night show called "The Real Me Is Thin" with the straight talking Arabella Weir (of Grumpy Old Women fame. She also wrote a book called "Does My Bum Look Big In This?". Despite it being a bit of a girl's night we all enjoyed ourselves and had a great laugh.

Keld to Reeth Day 9

A night of rest, some magic liniment and some ibuprofen can do wonders for weary muscles and sore joints. At some stage or other we have all had our ailments: feet, knees, muscles, shoulders, blisters ... even sunburn.

Refreshed, bandaged and reinvigorated we all opted for the low route from Keld to Reeth. The high route takes in some old lead mines but is more exposed to the weather and involves more climbing. The scenic low route is a 20 km ramble that follows the Swale from near its source. It is hard to do it justice in words because nothing of any great significance happened, but it was uplifting, as every day so far has been.

Why is it uplifting? It's hard to say. We get into a steady cadence, occasionally talking to each other or to other walkers we might meet, taking a few photos, humming a song, making mental notes, but often just reflecting and taking in the Arcadian serenity of the place and its mostly ovine and bovine inhabitants. I suppose it's an ambulatory form of meditation.

We arrived at the hospitable Arkleside B&B in Reeth in good shape and reasonable time. The knee wasn't too bad and I was grateful for the relatively flat terrain for much of the day.

Our routine has been to shower on arrival (necessary in the interests of others in the dining room or bar!) then catch up on diary, journal, blog, sleep or domestic duties according to priorities and available time. By seven we are at dinner - usually a pub meal, but occasionally in the B&B dining room. On this occasion we ate at the friendly Buck Inn. By 9 or 10 we are usually in bed.

Breakfast is usually about 8am except on easier days when we might sneak a few extra minutes sleep. The catering for breakfast is quite generous as there is always muesli, usually with fruit and yoghurt to start with. At home this would be all we eat but Geordie and I have also been going the "full English" ostensibly to provide fuel for the day and enabling us to simply snack for lunch. However there are only so many full English breakfasts a man can eat in three weeks and I have now decided to have them only for the really big walking days. Irene and Gen have been much more circumspect and have managed very well on scrambled or poached eggs, or the occasional bowl of porridge.

Reeth, where "All Creatures Great and Small" was based

So with full (English) bellies and after stopping for some photos at the Overton House Cafe we departed Reeth for Richmond, the biggest town on our walk and the place for a welcome rest day.

This one's for you Bron!

Kirkby Stephen to Keld - into Yorkshire Day 8

From Kirkby Stephen the Coast to Coast route rises fairly steeply onto the Pennines. This is a significant day on the walk because when we get to Keld we are half way across England. We also leave Cumbria and enter Yorkshire for the remainder of our trip. The Pennines form the watershed of northern England so after today the rivers will be flowing in the direction we are walking, eastwards. In particular, the Swale rises from the Pennines near the route and we will follow its delightful valley for several days.

However the crossing of the Pennines is notorious for the peat bogs over the top of Nine Standards Rigg. From before Day 1 we had been warned of the possibility of being knee deep here. This is usually a day for good equipment, sound physical condition, plenty of resolution and a slice of good humour (they suggest the tallest member of the party goes first so the others can step on that person's head!) Full length gaiters were certainly recommended.

Nine Standards Rigg gets its name from the mysterious dry stone constructions on its 665m peak. These nine feature are all about 3-4 metres high and are evenly set in a line over a distance of about 50m. They are visible on the hill crest for several miles. Their origin is uncertain which is handy for creating intrigue and allows some fanciful theories to be put forward, such as the suggestion that they were built to fool potential Scottish invaders (ha!)

We snacked at Nine Standards and went forward with some trepidation down the peat slope on the other side. My left knee was troubling me a little and the uneven ground didn't help. However, once again we were lucky with the weather. Significant rain was supposed to arrive today after a week of glorious, sunny days. Certainly it was cooler but the rain held off for most of the day, with just a few showers later in the afternoon. All this fine warm weather meant the peat bogs were relatively dry. They were soft and "puggy" but as long as we watched our step we were unlikely to slide in up to our ankles ... or beyond.

The signpost over Nine Standards Rigg ... it's unapproachable in the wet!

We eventually arrived at Ravenseat Farm on the edge of the moors where Amanda, an enterprising young farming wife, brought us out tea and cake. Amanda was interviewed by the BBC's Julia Bradbury and appears on the BBC Coast to Coast DVD so we were hoping we could catch up with her. Besides we were more than ready for a cup of tea.

Ravenseat Farm

Amanda and Genevieve at Ravenseat Farm

As we neared the sealed road about a kilometre from Keld I was just beginning to congratulate myself on having negotiated the bogs and staying relatively dry and unscathed when I slipped in a slimy ditch and jolted my sore left knee. Apart from the indignity of having mud oozing through my right boot it meant a painful hobble into Keld. My left knee felt unstable and I was having difficulty taking any weight or exerting upward force. It felt as though I had damaged a ligament and I wondered whether the half way point might be as far as I would get. A shower and a pint at Keld Lodge lifted the spirits a little.

Keld is a tiny hamlet in bleak surroundings with only 28 inhabitants, most of whom seem to be associated with the three B&B lodges / bunkhouses that make it such a valuable point on the Coast to Coast route. Keld Lodge was a YHA hostel until a few years ago but has now been converted into a well appointed licensed lodge by Tony Leete and his wife. They seem to have made a canny investment as they are at the junction of two of the most popular routes in Britain - the Coast to Coast and the Pennines Way.

We leave Keld Lodge with the Packhorse van already on the job, collecting our bags

If you do get the chance to stay there (and there aren't too many alternatives) make sure you try the Banana Curry Soup. It's not the sort of thing you expect to find out on the Yorkshire moors but it was absolutely delicious. Unfortunately the chef insisted the recipe was a closely guarded secret and the only information Gen was able to extract from her was that each batch had 50 bananas in it!

We learned some days later that conditions became very bad on Nine Standards Rigg a day or so after we had made the crossing. We heard of two fit and experienced walkers who literally had to crawl on their hands and knees as nearly horizontal hail belted them "like machine gun bullets"!
[Postscript: we later met these two lads who agreed it had been difficult but they thought the story had grown a bit in the re-telling!]