Stifficate

I now have a laminated certificate to verify that I slogged 215 miles across the country, and very smart it is too. I'm pleased to say it doesn't have an andendum of "By the way she took the train for that bit, and a bus there and that little bit there she missed out completely as she was gallavanting with Transvestites in Manchester." I am proud of my certificate and have displayed it for all to see.

A bit run down

I collected my car and the reason why it went wrong was flat battery from lack of use. So my resolution to walk more and drive less cost me dear. There needs to be some compromise here. Idea: I am now a member of the National Trust so I will drive my car to NT houses and walk around the grounds. Good for both of us.

Driving myself mad

I have been very non car usery since the Big Walk and vow to drive only for very necessary journeys. I needed materials for latest arty project, cow mending, so I went to get them in my car which then went all wrong. Its roof refused to close and I had to go all the way to Wandsworth to get it fixed and it had to stay there in car hospital. The good thing that came about from this was the long walk home - only because Mr Smith had stolen my oyster card. I took the Riverside Walk which gets a bit unriversidy in parts due to the buildings hogging the river frontage. I needed a good walk and it was an excellent impromptu stroll.

Walking on

I trundled round Richmond Park and then Wimbledon Common and I think if I managed this a few days a week I'd keep up the good work. Of course it is now stupidly hot and walking anywhere further than the fridge for a refreshing glass of iced water (or wine) is out of the question. It is all a matter of remembering how it used to be when walks were such hard work and now are a bit of a doddle. I absolutely love walking and must remember to do lots often and not let the everything else take over. Mr Smith says I look thinner and fitter but then Mr Smith says all sorts of stupid things.

Honey I'm Home

Oh the joys of not having to don my horrible walking boots and hoof across the country. I want to stay in bed all day, every day and sip tea and read trashy books supported by big pillows in my gorgeous comfortable bed with my gorgeous comfortable dog. However, I am really very fit at the moment and I feel it would be a waste not to use this fitness and let it subside back into malaise. I am also a bit thinner as my tighter trousers do up much better; they don't actually fit but they're much nearer their goal of going round me.

I must plan a few walks. I must not become my old lazy self again as I can now easily manage a walk that was a major effort before my Big Walk. I have joined the National Trust and will find some stately homes and gardens and grounds and maybe places I can take the dog. In the meantime I am going swimming.

Aintree to the End

I went from Liverpool to Aintree, where I spent the night but didn't see any racehorses, then to Old Roan to find I had to come back to Liverpool in order to get the right train towards Southport, the final destination of Mrs Smith's Big Walk. I could have walked but it was 5 hours of railway track and I really wanted to walk along the coast and have time to see Southport. I went to Ainsdale and got lost on the sand dunes until I thought "Hang on a minute, where's the Irish Sea?" I found the beach like an enormous desert stretching out before me. In the far far distance was something that looked like cliffs - it was the sea with big waves. I only knew it was the sea as there was an oil rig in it. I walked towards Southport with the wind whipping the stinging sand against my legs and after about two hours could see Blackpool in the far distance. Where was the sea? I arrived at the coastguard's hut on the beach. Hello I've walked all the way from Hull "The band's just left but welcome to Southport" says our witty man. He tells me the tide won't change for a long time now so Southport will be without sea for a few weeks maybe even til autumn. Then when the tide does come in it goes all over the sea wall and across the road. We are talking about water so far away you couldn't actually see it.

I found the end of the Trans Pennine Trail marker. Theirs revolves - Hornsea's doesn't. I then felt triumphant at my 215 miles (with a bit of trains) and went to the lawnmower museum to celebrate. Then back to the lovely South, my lovely dog, boys and of course, Mr Smith.

Widnes to Liverpool

With the chemical works of Runcorn and Widnes as my backdrop I left my charming boarding establishment (the rough pub) to try my luck at finding something to eat at Hale Village. You could have rough breakfast but you needed to have ordered it the day before - oh - and the everything else looked exceedingly unappealing and rather hard work. Of course Hale Village offered nothing whatsoever in the cafe department. It was a church and a post office and a bus stop where I duly caught a bus to Liverpool which gave me a head start on Mother Rita, my mother-in-law.

The very expensive hotel was rather disappointing. I changed our rooms for ones with a view as ordered and they did kindly give me free breakfast - maybe they sensed how starving I was. I met Mother Rita at 1pm and we museumed and sight saw. Liverpool is a great city with magnificent buildings. The Liver Birds, two cormorants perched on the top of the two towers on the Liver Building, are tied on to prevent them flying away. It's not too Beetles mad and we didn't have take a Furry across the Mersey. We took a train to Port Sunlight which has one of the best art galleries I have ever visited.

Cheshire

After Manchester I trudged towards Liverpool staying in a vile B&B on a farm near Altrincham. It wasn't vile really but seemed to have inadequate bathroom facilities for the guests - only one bathroom containing the one loo, all in bright turquoise. And the lock was rubbish so I barged in on a rather surprised older lady. I met her and her niece at breakfast and we had a good bitch about the place. They looked so nice before I got to them. The woman who ran the place obviously didn't like me and resented showing me round when I arrived as she was missing Wimbledon. It went downhill from there as I sat in the wrong place at breakfast - I wasn't allowed a placemat as I wasn't having cooked breakfast. I soon sorted that out. The dining room smelt of cat. I asked her husband for directions and she constantly told him he was getting it all wrong. Actually, thank you Mr B&B, your directions were great and I am sorry your wife is so ugly.

I walked through posh Cheshire and along the Manchester Ship Canal until it became the Mersey. The pubs were few and far between and closed. I eventually staggered the last few miles along the Mersey to the shite hole of a town Widnes. The pub where I was staying looked very rough at the end of a terraced street. My room was nice with a spectacular view of the Runcorn Bridge right outside my window. However, there were no eateries of any sort and the streets looked like the kind of place you'd get mugged. I went to bed hungry.

Claudia and the Trannies

I met the Lovely Claudia at Stockport, a great market town with a hat museum. We hatted then went to Manchester for a two day break from the walk. Weehee. We met transvestites, stayed in the most comfortable hotel in the world and did much culture, as one does. It was brill.

Royston Vasey

Rivers were followed, pubs visited, mountains staggered over and county boundaries crossed. I left Yorkshire through Woodhead Pass into Derbyshire. Oh I am so so so pleased I decided to do this walk from East to West as I was going downhill for the really steep bits. I don't think my backpack and I would ever have made it up. I spoke to a cyclist who told me they prefer up as going down having to break all the way or carrying your bike is very difficult.

I stayed in Hadfield, also known as Royston Vasey as this is where they shot League of Gentlemen (which I have never seen but had to pretend I knew all about it). It has a sign saying You will never leave. When I got to the station I saw that you really could never leave as it's single track and there a buffers at the end which seemed odd and it was not the last station on the line. They must shunt a lot. I went to Glossop, off the trail but I was interested to see this little market town - very uninteresting and not as pretty as its name.

I then walked to Broadbottom and got lost. Now in Cheshire and being stared at by nasty scarecrows outside every building, I walked towards Stockport and got lost again - twice in one day. I turned round and I found my destination, Haughton Green, through a lovely wood by a river and canal and over a bridge and up beside a church that looked like a tudor house. The hotel was no great shakes but it did look quite pretty. My walk was long and I slept well.