Journal:
I woke up to
find, happily, that the rain had cleared overnight
and it was clear and sunny outside. I left the
hotel at 7:45am after breakfast and, after spending
15 minutes in the small supermarket in town getting
some supplies, started
walking seriously at 8am, with the goal of
maintaining a good pace (without racing!). Penkridge was just waking up as I walked through the
high street on my way to the Staffordshire &
Worcestershire Canal which passed through the
eastern fringes of the town. I was now
predominantly following another long-distance
footpath, the Staffordshire Way which, like the
Shropshire Way, wasn't heavily used and spent a lot
of time following the overgrown edges of fields.
The guidebook wasn't too
positive about the day's walking to Abbotts Bromley,
but it turned out better than I expected. The
initial kilometres along the Canal were very
pleasant and there was a lot to look at. A mix
of long barges ranging from those looking very lived
in, to the sparkling well-equipped ones which were
hired out to holiday-makers. The locks,
lock-keepers cottages and bridges were all very
historic and well-kept and, on the side opposite to
the towpath where I walked, houses with immaculate
gardens and barge landing docks were also
interesting.
All too soon, the route
left the Canal and I spent an hour slogging across
sodden grass fields and nettle patches where the
footing was difficult and the walking hard.
However, that soon passed and the route crossed
Cannock Chase, a large area of undulating forests
and heathland criss-crossed with many grassy walking
paths and bridleways. It looked like a great
place to run a classic English cross-country race,
and I'm sure many of my friends will have done so.
I met quite a lot of walkers, riders and
mountain-bike riders enjoying a pleasant spring day
on the Chase.
Then it was back to canal
towpath walking, this time along the Trent & Mersey
Canal, with the same kinds of barges, locks and
bridges. Nearby was also a main rail-line
along which high-speed, aero-dynamic, and
flashily-painted Virgin trains seem to pass every
fifteen minutes or so. Around noon, the path
left the Canal and headed north-east to the village
of Colton, where I found a pub and had lunch.
Checking the map, I could see that I was making good
time, and would easily reach the guide-book target,
Abbotts Bromley, in the early afternoon. This
put me on track to cover the extra 10km to Uttoxeter,
where I had much more chance of getting
accommodation for the night. I left the pub
around 1:15pm and, after some more field walking and
crossing the long Blithfield Reservoir wall, reached
Abbotts Bromley at 2:30pm. Here I had the
choice of following the guide-book (Staffordshire
Way) route across 10km of field margin footpaths, or
walking the same distance along the main road.
I decided the latter would be faster and no less
scenic, although I would have to deal with traffic
on a road with narrow verges for a couple of hours.
I travelled cautiously,
getting off the road into the bordering hedges, for
oncoming vehicles, but still made good time and
reached the centre of Uttoxeter soon after 4:30pm.
I tried a hotel in the middle of the small historic
market town, but the barmaid told me it was £50 just
for a room (no breakfast). I said it was a bit
high for my budget and could she suggest anywhere
else. She named one other hotel, but said she
thought their rates were the same, and then she
thought of a guesthouse a few minutes walk away,
which might have lower prices. I thanked her
and said I would come back if they were no better.
She then insisted that she would ring them on my
behalf to save me the walk, and did so, telling them
I would be right down when she heard the price was
£35 B&B and they had a room. How nice was
that!
I found the guesthouse and
checked in, having noted a cheap and cheerful pub on
the way down that would do for dinner. I
texted my 2004 Three Peaks team-mate, Stephen, to
tell him I had arrived and the name of the pub, so
that he could meet me there for dinner, which he
duly did. The only time Stephen and I have
spent together over the years was that Three Peaks
event, but our shared near-death seasick experience
on the yacht ferry trip down to Barmouth had forged
a great bond and we had a very pleasant evening,
during which he pretty much sold me on his new sport
of para-gliding.
To top off a very nice
day, my feet were the best they have been for weeks,
touch wood!
