On Sunday 19th September we took a rest day in Silverdale after 3 long glorious days in the Lake District. We sheltered in the Silverdale hotel in the morning to write some blog and plan the next few days. Then off for a walk in the afternoon around Arnside park.
We headed back down the coast along the cliffs in the evening sun, and looked for a way up through to the campsite. But the beach disappeared, the cliffs were steep and scrubby, and not wanting to end our cycletrip with a broken ankle from an evening jaunt, we retraced our steps back to Silverdale and round to the campsite.
Monday 20th September dawned with clear blue skies, and we were up and away by 10.45. Roadworks forced us on a slight diversion on wooded lanes and a busy stretch of road through Carnforth. But soon we were on the Lancaster canal towpath, which we followed down towards the city of that name, pleasant views over Morecambe Bay to the west. Although the canal paths were welcome after the days of undulating roads they soon would become farely brain numbing as we continued south through the Midlands.
At Hest Bank we decided to branch off the canal onto route 69 to follow the coast to Morecambe. Here we cycled out onto the stone pier and stopped for lunch, with glorious views back to the Lakeland mountains over the bay.
From our coastal jaunt, it was a straight off road run along the Lancashire coastal way to the River Lune and into Lancaster.
On arrival in Lancaster we certainly felt slightly out of place in the very beautiful, but very civilized, Georgian town square. We stopped for an alfresco drink at a Brazilian cafe and a walk around the outside of the castle (now a prison) before heading out on route 6 along the south back of the Lune, past new build blocks of smart student accommodation.
We followed the estuary around to the south and off road for several miles and then turned east inland to Galgate, over the M6 and back again, on minor roads to cockerham and then an A road back to the estuary.
We passed Pilling and arrived at Murphy Platts farm campsite by 5pm. A strange sound turned out to be the cries of thousands of ducks at a neighbouring farm. They did not queiten down for most of the day or night. Tent up (the only guests), we cycled along to the nearest coop at Knott End on sea. Robbie waited outside with the bikes and witnessed an argument which quickly became heated between 2 men, one much older. Eventually the younger men sped off in their car and the older man came over to explain they had tried to steal his car with grandchild inside and then threatened him when he tried to prosecute! We retreated to our duck dominated campsite quite quickly.
Keen to keep our bike ferry corssings going, we joined the pedestrian ferry over the river Wyre to Fleetwood – only having to manually lift our bikes on a couple of occasions
The cycle from Fleetwood to Blackpool was along a very flat and civilised cyclepath along the flood defences, including the seafront with the themepark and tower. Robbie was able to recall some of it from his childhood trips to see his grandparents (and night time car trips to see the illuminations!). Pleased to say my first time witnessing the illuminations were on our honeymoon!
However we had our first social engagement as we had booked lunch with Robbie’s Aunt and Uncle in Lytham St. Annes. Hoping we weren’t too stinky, we had a beautiful al fresco lunch on Clive & Linda’s patio. We were very grateful for the small mountain of buttered bread that came with our lunch – the benefit of having lunch with the parents of three boys! It was so nice to chat in the sunshine and see all of Clive’s photographs. Robbie was also able to spot his Grandpa & Grandma’s house on St Leonard’s road West and, most importantly, the hotel they visited which had the best chocolate cake of his childhood! Sadly we didn’t feel able to tramp into the hotel to see if the chocolate cake was still the same…!
Having declined the offer to stay with Clive and Linda we headed to what was the most dodgy campsite we stayed at on our tour on the outskirts of Blackpool. We wished we had taken up their kind offer! Nothing was really bad but I do think there was alot of rather odd men that definitely seemed to have made the campsite their semi permanent home. It did however mean that we could get a taxi ride in to see the illuminations and have some fish and chips. The tram route certainly showed them at their best and they were really photogenic with the dark sky. I’m glad we went! Although we did feel like country bumpkins out after dark in a city after spending most of our evenings by the tent with only torches and campfires for light!
Not spending any longer in our Blackpool camspite, on Wednesday 22nd September we cycled down to Lytham and the windmill on the river Ribble (the location of multiple summer time concerts, including Tom Jones) by the estuary. Then inland on route 62 to Kirkham, stopping for provisions.
Then east to the Lancaster canal and down into Preston; another new city. Stop for a drink in the central square in the sunshine to replenish with smoothies and a little sightseeing, including the beautfiul (but almost deserted) gardens by the river.
Feeling rather tired following our night out in Blackpool, we had a hen tricky navigation down to river Ribble and then onwards to try and locate a campsite for the night. Out of Preston southwest on route 62. Followed A59 for a while on cycle path. Then branched off on minor roads, crossing the Leeds and Liverpool canal. At mere brow, turned off route to take short cut across farm tracks through pan flat arable fields. Felt very Patagonian. Dirt bikes. At one point, past a fenced barn with 4 large guard dogs – quite unnerving
Having not been attacked by the four guard dogs (turns out you can pedal quite quickly when tired!) We rejoined minor roads and route 562 and arrived at century house campsite at 7pm – a late one for us. Despite being so close to Liverpool, no hint of any accents. We treated ourselves to a carrot cake after a long day in the saddle (inside the tent). We were awoken an hour later to snuffling (a rat?!) to find a hedgehog in tent porch snuffling about found carrot cake in the dark! We left him to the crumbs.
Thursday 23rd September 9.30am cycled South then west on minor roads skirting Southport. The route to Liverpool was punctuated to badly diverted cycle paths; nature reserves and small sand dunes/sand drift blocking the path. T
After Fornby, dodging the sand drifts, we saw heads bobbing out of the surf. As it was chilly, with sea spray catching us on the path and a high tide, we were amazed that anyone would be out in the sea at this time. Turned out they were Anthony Gormley’s statues, now half submerged in the sand. Not great to differentiate if you are a lifeguard!
Eventually gave up and cut inland parallel along cost through Crosby and joining the Leeds and Liverpool canal – overtaking some dodgy looking characters with our panniers at times didn’t somethimes feel like the best idea. We followed it’s towpath through Bootle and all the way into Liverpool past the docks (including the Titanic dock, now a fancy hotel where footballers stay pre match). Finally heard the Liverpool accent!
Pedalling_Patagonia 