Breakfast at the sheep farm was simple. No choice of tea or coffee here. It was very strong Yorkshire tea or nothing. But it was quite good.
The Pen y ghent cafe was shut this morning so I had to stock up at the post office. Pork pie, crisps and a Mars bar. Not exactly a set of culinary jewels, but I was grateful for them later.
The walk today was pretty much an uphill slog during the morning, followed by a swift descent for a couple of miles at the end. Most of the fifteen miles were on old drovers’ roads which were stony and very uncomfortable underfoot. 
But the scenery was stunning. Pen y ghent was covered by cloud but the rest of the sky was fairly blue. I saw the Ribbleshead viaduct from a distance (though sadly no steam train – or any train – travelled over it. It’s shut for engineering works).
The moors were fairly windswept and bits of the way were being dug up by large mechanical diggers. So I imagined myself as both Heathcliff and Bob the Builder as I continued my climb. At one point I found a couple of party balloons, set free perhaps the day before from some gathering in the valley, caught in the gorse. I disentangled them and they sailed into the air.
But the descent from Ten End to Hawes was grassy and almost Sound of Music like, even if I avoided doing much arm-stretched twirling as I was very concerned not to lose my footing.
My legs really began to ache for the last couple of miles and I fairly hobbled into Hawes. But, as I sit on my bed in the delightful, if predictably named, Herriots Hotel, the feet are feeling much better. And I nipped out earlier to buy some new insoles, so we’ll see if they make a difference tomorrow.
Now I just need to decide which pub to visit tonight for supper – and check what’s on the box later.
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