Days 191 & 192: Blackpool to Morecambe

I’m walking 29 miles today so it’s up before dawn for a cloudy promenade walk, following the tram lines to Little Bispham and then on to Fleetwood, where the Heysham nuclear power station looms across the bay.

A small ferry takes me across the River Wyre to Knott-End-on-Sea.

There’s another hiker on the ferry, Peter Singleton, who is walking the coast of England and Wales for the Trussel Trust foodbank charity. In one of those strange coincidences, we are the same age and both started our walks from Gravesend. Time to team up.

The Lancashire Coastal Way heads inland at Fluke Hall, following roads to the River Cocker. We decide to try the estuary embankment despite the lack of a marked footpath on the OS map. Things go smoothly until we hit a Private sign at Cockerham Marsh. We are surrounded by marsh and hidden from the distant buildings by the embankment so step down onto the marsh and continue. A microlight flies overhead. I disconnect and reconnect an electric fence.

Perhaps the microlight pilot has phoned in our location or breaking the electric circuit has set off an alarm, as within minutes a four-by-four comes barrelling along the embankment slope and a large guy gets out, probably weighing more than Peter and I together. He looks like he could carry a cow under each arm. We get the hairdryer treatment — an angry tirade against trespassing hikers.

“Don’t you have maps?”

We play the clueless walkers and confess we were following the embankment. I’m on the verge of pointing to Peter and saying “I was just following him” but I would burst out laughing and it’s probably not the best moment for that.

He points to four dozing cows.

“There are cows! I have a £15 million liability insurance and would be liable if they injured you!”

Hmm, it looks like running wild is the last thing on their minds.

“You’re lucky, the lady owning the farm whose land you have just walked through has a gun and shoots trespassers!”

I kept Peter on my landward side, so that’s ok.

“How would you like it if someone walked through your garden?”

That old chestnut. I’m not sure I’d equate several hundred acres of remote salt marsh to my front garden, but I keep that thought to myself and nod contritely.

All joking aside, we are in the wrong and after many apologies, he allows us to continue, which is a blessing as it’s a long way back.

We slope away like a couple of naughty schoolboys being dismissed by the headmaster. I can’t resist laughing once we are out of range. In my defence, I was simply following the acorn, the icon of the National Trails. Unfortunately, it was on Peter’s leg.

On the way out we pass a sign saying No Entry – Wildfowlers Association. I make no apology for saving a few birds from being shot.

The rest of the walk is a little less exciting, stopping off for a cuppa at the Black Knights Skydiving Centre and passing Cockersand Abbey chapter house.

Peter leads me astray, again, at Glasson and we swap hiking stories over a couple of beers in the Dalton Arms, which serves a fine pint.

We part company at Lancaster, although I will follow his progress on his JustGiving page.

The city is attractive and full of character. I make a quick tour before the train to Morecambe, my base for the next three days. I’ve hardly taken any photos today as there was too much chatting and I don’t like to hold up another walker, but it was great to have such enjoyable company on a long day.

Next day

Another early start to take advantage of low tide as there are a couple of challenges over the next 18 miles, also requiring me to walk in the reverse direction from Morecambe to Lancaster.

I met Eric last night but it seems more appropriate for him to send me on my way today with a smile. I half expect the glasses to wriggle.

The jetty has another of the Time and Tide Bells created by sculptor and musician Marcus Vergette. One day I’ll catch the tide at the right time to hear the bell ring.

Rain begins to fall, and St Patrick’s Church is locked, offering no sanctuary. In my haste to avoid lingering in the rain, I forget to visit the ruined chapel nearby, striding down Money Close Lane and past Heysham nuclear power station

A short diversion to take a closer look at Ship by Anna Gillespie, with opposing figures, one looking back to the chapel and one looking forward to the nuclear power station. The bird understandably favours the past.

The plan is to hike to the end of Sunderland Point, a remote village at the end of a tidal causeway, which is underwater for several hours each day. Some coastal walkers have struggled to find a path on this side of the peninsula. Passing through the Ocean Edge Holiday Park, I have to backtrack a few times to find a way down to the beach as all the caravans are occupied I don’t want to walk through their gardens and climb over fences. Finally, I reach a rough section of scrub with a gap down to the shore.

I’ve marked the spot on my OS map to help future walkers.

The clamber down to the stony shore is fairly gentle. It looks as though high tide might make the initial 20 feet tricky but after that, it should be possible to walk above the waterline.

The foreshore is rough but not too difficult to navigate, helped by a road through another holiday park and gentle scrubland, with only a few cows in close proximity. Old Hall sits just round the point. They must endure fierce weather.

There’s plenty of time to amble across the long causeway to Overton.

It’s mainly quiet minor roads back to Lancaster, passing an inn with the lovely nickname of Snatchems, an old haunt frequented by press gangs.

I extend my walk in Lancaster up to the pretty Lune Viaduct, busy with narrow boats, before catching the train back to Morecambe.

Walk distance: 47 miles.

Total distance: 3,247 miles.