Goole to Liverpool walk Day 1

Goole to Liverpool walk by canal tow-path.

Day 1. Wed 14^th July 2010. Goole to Southfield Reservoir, Pollington.

It's always best to begin a story at the beginning and this one will be no different. It's quite a long story but not half as long as the 170 mile walk it's about. My journey would have to begin in my home town of Mansfield where I would take various buses to Goole to begin my walk across England to Liverpool. This won't cost me a penny in bus fares 'cos I'm an old guy who qualifies for a bus-pass that allows me free travel to most places of UK on service buses.

Peter and Dorothy - two of my MySpace friends who have turned into REAL LIFE friends - surprised me by turning up at the bus station as I awaited the 10 am bus to Sheffield. My wife had dropped me off earlier but had to shoot off to keep a doctors appointment. Peter and Dorothy spent quite a bit of time and effort in filming and photographing me from all angles. I felt like a Beatle landing in the USA. They saw me off in great style too, and soon I was on my way.

At Sheffield I changed buses for one to Doncaster and then at Doncaster one more bus change took me the rest of the way to Goole where I arrived at about 3:30 in the afternoon. I left the bus, hoisted my 30lb pack onto my back, picked up my brolly and made straight away for the start of the walk where I knew there were at least three pubs that I hoped to get B&B and rest up before starting the walk the following morning.

It was about a half to three-quarters of mile to the start and when I arrived I walked straight into the bar of The Vermuyden Hotel and asked if they could do me a room for the night. But they informed me that they no longer functioned as a hotel, it's now just a pub. I asked if they knew of anywhere else in the immediate area but that was negative too. Then one of the customers chimed in and suggested a hotel that was situated back the way I'd come. (This is quite common when I'm in a pub asking for digs, and it's exactly why I do it.) She took me outside and pointed in the general direction of the hotel she'd recommended giving me directions as she waved her arms about.

“Go down 'ere. Take the second on the right. Follow the second road around to your left, over the bridge, through the gate. Take a right and follow the road to the end, turn left and the hotel's on the right.”

So I did all that for about half a mile, crossed two metal bridges, went down an alley by the docks, through a gate and..... finished up in a dead end at a barred and locked steel gate. I thought maybe I'd took a wrong turn at the start and proceeded to retrace my steps and try again. I tried again down another street and finished up in another dead end. So I thought bugger! I'll go back to the Vermuyden and start the walk instead of hunting for B&B.

At the Vermuyden the woman was just leaving with a man. “Did you find it?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “I got a bit lost, twice!" They offered to take me part of the way there so we set off down the road, took the second left, crossed two metal bridges and then he said. “See that big white building just across there?” I agreed I could see it. “Well the hotel X is just behind that.” And with that and a few thank-yous I left them and made my way to the hotel. It was closed down and boarded up!!

I decided for the second time that afternoon to forget about B&Bs and set off on the walk. It was now 4:30 in the afternoon and I'd already lost an hour and walked about two or three. But I was on my way to Liverpool....... and it started raining.

C:\Users\Tony\Documents\Photos\Livergoolewalk 058.jpg

The start is just opposite the Vermuyden Hotel. The hotel name is taken from the Dutchman who designed and built much of the canal system http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cornelius_Vermuyden and the first stretch of the path is alongside The Dutch River for a couple of hours before turning into the Aire and Calder Navigation. I took a few pics to give some indication of the start of the walk including a big industrial building and one or two shots of the marina.

It wasn't long before the sun went behind the clouds and the rain began to pitter-patter down. It very soon turned quite nasty and was coming down in stair-rods. So the camera was put into its waterproof bag for better times ahead.

The rain just kept on and on but my brolly did a fair job of keeping me and my back-pack dry. I did get short breaks of fine weather which encouraged me but mostly it was wet and miserable. The tow-path is quite high up and exposed and very soon the rain and wind strengthened, thunder and lightning echoed around me and swirling wind tried to uproot me from the canal and turn me into Mary Poppins. My brolly couldn't cope with this sort of treatment and decided a time or two to turn itself inside out. I was fast becoming soaked to the skin and in grave danger of attracting a lightning strike.

The Storm

The autumn landscape splits asunder

With lightening bolts and claps of thunder

Storm clouds gather inky skies loom

A deluge falls within the gloom

Rain falls like needles stinging my skin

We can’t escape the mighty din

Neath bare trees there’s no refuge

The water soaking through my shoes

Engulfed in angry stormy weather

I gather up and walk hell for leather

Making for shelter of pub and bar

Quick, hurry, scurry hope not too far

At last there's sanctury safe and sound

While the storm rages on, all around

© Maddy Small (AKA Maddwitch)

Slightly altered to suit by me, Anthony W.

After about an hour of this I decided to seek shelter and safety. I came off the tow-path at New Bridge and took to the road. There was just one house on my right and I opened the five barred gate and with the lightning forking, the wind swirling and the rain coming horizontal I approached the rear door of the house and rang the bell. Through the patterned glass I could see a man approach the door and he opened it a fraction.

“Excuse me,” I began. “I'm looking for shelter for the night. Anything will do. Garage floor, shed outbuilding, caravan. Anything. I'll pay.”

“Sorry, mate. We've no room here,” he said. “You could try the village over yonder.” he suggested, pointing back towards where I'd just been struggling to walk along the tow-path.

“How far back?” I asked.

“Ooooh, baht arf an hour ah should think.” He said sorry again and closed the door to.

Bugger! I let myself out of the gate and onto the road. I decided to press on westward towards my goal but keep to the road for a while. I headed north for a bit and then took a road to my left. Mercifully the rain and wind abated and I could take down my brolly. The sun popped its head out of the clouds and soon I was starting to dry out. I knew that this lane would take me to Southfield Reservoir and by now it was getting late. At about 8:00 I had reached a track that ran parallel to the canal and was heading in the right direction towards the reservoir.

After about a quarter of an hour I was there. There was a nice patch of flattish short grassed area and some people fishing. I approached one of these men and asked if it would be OK for me to camp there for the night. Yes, he said. Can't see any problem as he had seen other's camp there overnight before.

So I went well away from where they were casting and kicked off some of the duck and goose droppings and prepared to erect my little tent.

“Whaaaaaaaaat ya doin!” came a voice from behind my back. It was a little cherubic boy of about four years, smiling from ear to there.

“I'm putting up my tent.” I replied.

“Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy?” he asked.

“'Cos I'm tired and I want to get some sleep.”

“What's this?” he asked, picking up a tent peg.

“It's a tent peg to hold the tent down so's it don't blow away.”“Can I have it?”“No ya can't, now go and see what your mum wants.”
Mum was calling her boy to come to her. She was a good fifty yards away.

He ignored her and started collecting tent pegs and then moved off with them.

“Oy!” I called. “Gimme them back else I can't put my tent up.” I had to chase him to get 'em back and having done so I carried on over to his mum and he came too. I explained to her that I needed to get some shut-eye and told her my plans. She assured me that she'd keep little Joshua under control so I returned to the task of erecting my tent. “Whaaaaat ya doing?” was back before I'd finished my work. I pushed everything into the tent and climbed in myself. Joshua was at the door, watching, as I squirrelled myself inside and then zipped up the doors. I leaned into the tent wall as I endeavoured to remove my wet socks and combat trousers and Joshua must have thought this an invitation to hit it.

“Oy! Bugger off!” I shouted. I heard his mum call him to her and then heard little four year old Joshua bid me goodnight.

“Fat bastard!” he called out, and fled back to his mum. I was on my way.

.................to be continued.