Lunch time, Poulton-le-Fylde suburbia and we are sat in reclining chairs in someone’s front garden, This followed a trip by Sir Hugh depositing himself into the middle of the road with no serious injury but blood [as well as egg] on his face. It all looked dramatic to passing motorists who came to our aid and one particularly kind lady took us into her property for tea and sympathy. Spare glasses fitted and he was ready to continue on our walk along Northing 438
The day had started in a rather gloomy and windswept Blackpool where we picked up the 38 at North Shore. There is nothing to recommend British seaside resorts in winter. Sir Hugh had a new hat that kept blowing away until he stuffed it into his rucksack and donned a more suitable beanie. At the start is a striking statue to our emergency services which I’d seen before on a trip along this promenade.
We passed rows of basic guesthouses, probably full of ‘social housing clients’ and then followed the pavement alongside a not too busy road out to Warbreck where the Ministry of Pensions and whatever else has an office. A colleague of mine worked here for many years in some secret role to entrap fraudsters.
Branching into housing estates we weaved around crescents and groves. You think that they could have created pleasanter address names than Block 50 although some of the street names had a familiar ring.
We were heading for a green space shown on the map and eventually, a path was reached along the edge of the estate. I’d soon collected a fair amount of dog excrement on my boots although a responsible owner with two rescue German Shepherds was interesting to chat to. One of the dogs had cigarette burns inflicted upon it when he intervened but both dogs were now even-tempered. The border of the estate was a disgrace with every form of rubbish you could imagine thrown into the ditch, the mind boggles.
Green fields took us into the outskirts of Poulton where the housing improved but the navigation was complicated by dead ends.
After our ‘sedate lunch break’ we headed into the countryside [for how long] with cows, hens and sheep.
Unfortunately, our way further on was blocked at a closed level crossing and we diverted onto the busy main road and then had to negotiate a complex industrial estate which I didn’t think we would emerge from. Eventually, we squeezed between groaning industries into the countryside.
The country fields here are all recycled marshland and the draining ditches define the fields although the drainage is not always good.
All-day I’d been looking unsuccessfully for signs of spring, catkins etc but near a farm, I saw my first lambs of the year.
We finished in Singleton just as the rain started to beat a quick retreat to the car, it looks an interesting village so will delve further when we resume the SD38.
A splendid account. I forgot to mention the level crossing, perhaps my brain was a bit addled at that point. I like your mixing of the chronology and all the rest. Good stuff.