Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay (Eating Sticky Toffee Pudding)

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After our one night of executive, art deco luxury in the Midland Hotel in Morecambe, it was time to head further north. I reflect on the Morecambe visit with a bit of sadness. The majority of people I speak to look somewhat puzzled by the choice of destination. What the town has to offer is lost on most and there is a definite refusal to give it chance to bounce back. Bill Bryson said as such in one of his books ambling round Britain. The lack of interest in my previous blog .... as highlighted by the views .... suggests the world still feels the same. Of course, I don't fool myself that it could be my writing style. Time will tell. Whether a visit to the "prettiest village in Cumbria" will attract more interest remains to be seen.

We checked out and filled the car up with fuel at a local supermarket. The price of petrol has gone through the roof in the UK in recent months. All we hear about is the global pressure on demand post COVID and the complications caused by the Russian attack on Ukraine, but the price just continues to sneak ever upward. The highest price for a litre of unleaded on the M6 we had spotted was an eye watering £1.89 per litre. Let's just say that the price was substantially more competitive in sunny Morecambe. We exited north through the suburb with the strange name of Bare. There was a more affluent feel in both Hest Bank and Bolton le Sands. The road leaves the coast, but there were periodic clear views across Morecambe Bay towards Cumbria. The tide was out and miles of flat sand made it look as though it was a simple short cut to the next County. Not so. The shifting sands and mudflats and quicksand makes the crossing a "foolhardy" occupation without serious local knowledge and a guide. The original crossing route in the Middle Ages went from Hest Bank to Kents Bank near Grange, but today organised charity crossings use the less ambitious Arnside to Kents Back option for safety reasons.

We cut through Carnforth and out on to the peninsula, which is largely comprised of the Arnside & Silverdale AONB i.e. Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty - a Natural Park in all but name. Silverdale is just a small village, developed as a holiday venue for wealthy Victorians. It has a golf course and a train station, but there isn't a great deal of reason to linger. We walked out over the sand to give Vera a run. There were a few locals about, so you knew it was okay. The sand turns to mud though in patches, so there is always that uneasy feeling. A deep channel - dry at the time crossed it - runs round behind and separates the sand from the shore and it is easy to see why people get caught out by the incoming tides in this area.

Arnside has a much bigger feel to it than Silverdale, but the population isn't significant in either. We drove into the village, passing the railway station and parked up by the shops facing the estuary. A pleasant row of Victorian shops faces out towards Cumbria on the other side of the estuary. The Post Office had closed, but had been reinvented as the Coast Office. We had a flat white and gazed over the water. Arnside was a historical boat building centre - the home of the shallow draft shrimp boats known as "Nobbies", but the fortunes changed again with the decision to build a viaduct for the railway across estuary. Up to this point, nearby Milnthorpe had been a flourishing port - the port of Kendal. A 50 arch viaduct with limited shipping access out paid to that and the boats could no longer pass Arnside. A small jetty was built in Arnside to become the new landing stage. The original railway viaduct was built in 1857 and rebuilt in 1915. The railway was then able to link up with Barrow and Ulverston. It also provided a much less treacherous route for people to shortcut across to Cumbria, than wandering across the sands at low tide.

We went off to find our accommodation in a village just inland from the coast. The sight of a few dozen cows waiting to be milked was a little confusing for Vera at the start of the week, but she acclimatised as the days passed and became more at home as a farm dog. The village came with the added benefit of a microbrewery a mere 10 minute walk away. Top real ale and dog friendly too. Once Vera realized that it also offered the four legged visitors treats, she was well up for repeat visits.

We headed over to Cumbria the next day to seaside resort effectively created by the railway crossing at Arnside - the curiously named Grange over Sands. Grange existed as a village, but developed with arrival of the railway. The title "over Sands" was added to avoid confusions with another Grange in Borrowdale near Keswick. The clean air and mild climate were much favoured by the Victorians, who built fancy looking villas and a few large hills. A promenade was created for bracing walks by the sea, but the shifting sands now means that the water is now no longer adjacent. A series of mud flats bridges the gap. They were populated by nomadic sheep, grazing peacefully on the grasses. The railway station and the town in general were decorated by ornamental iron work, giving a pleasant first impression. The "swimming stadium" in Morecambe is long gone, but the open air Lido is retained in Grange. It was built in 1932, closed in 1993 and waits patiently for the restoration it deserves. A maintenance crew were attending to a few tasks inside, so a polite enquiry enabled a 2 minute access to grab a quick photo. The delights of Grange are a mere 7 miles away from the bottom of Lake Windemere, which was another thing that attracted the Victorian visitors. If you don't fancy the circus of some of the larger resorts on the lakeside, consider Grange.

We stumbled across The Hazlemere - old world tea rooms - on a short Edwardian parade of shops towards the railway station. It was good to see that the covered canopies over the footway familiar from our youth in the NEPSR were all still in place. The Hazlemere offered an extensive menu of teas and coffees, as well as a food menu. The all important question was the dog friendly status and we were pleased to report that Vera was very welcome. There were a lot more businesses in Grange than we had been anticipating and the town seemed quite thriving. The place to make a bee line for mind is Higginsons and specifically their pies.

We drove inland to the "prettiest village in Cumbria" - Cartmel. Cartmel is a mere dot on the map, but home to the 12th century Cartmel Priory. The Priory was once the centre of life on the peninsula, but today looms over the small village. It is a pleasant, upmarket place to wander with classy small shops, coffee houses, enough pubs to make a decent afternoon and more than one Michelin starred restaurant. L'Enclume became the first restaurant to be awarded 3 stars outside London and the South East. A word of warning. If you are looking for a dinner reservation, try thinking next year!! It is that popular. A second word of warning. Get saving. The tasting menu is on offer at £250 per head.... and that is before the recommended accompanying wines. The other top restaurant in the village owned by the same chef is a little more modest on the pricing front. A mere £79 per head for the set menu. As well as being a destination for upmarket foodies, Cartmel also holds another trick up it's sleeve. A mere stone's throw from the village square is a racecourse. I am not big on horses, but if I was looking for a pleasant afternoon out watching the gees - this is the spot. The main annual meeting is in late May. As we weren't in the market for a £250 lunch - even if we didn't have the dog with us and had been smart enough to make a reservation 6 months ago - we invested in another Cartmel food specialty. Cartmel is the home of the Sticky Toffee Pudding. As with many dishes, the exact original is somewhat difficult to pin down. It is claimed that Sticky Toffee Pudding was invented in various places - East Yorkshire, Aberdeen, Lancashire. However, this version is widely acclaimed as top pudding. The local village shop started producing them in 1989 and success forced production to be moved to a nearby village with an industrial estate. If you can't get to Cartmel to make your purchase, don't panic. They are available online and also through high end outlets such as Selfridges, Harvey Nics and Waitrose. They are substantially cheaper in the village shop by the way and Vera was welcome inside.

The following day we had a wander to Kendal - Gateway to the Lakes. After the experience around the Cartmel Peninsula, I have to say it was something of a disappointment. The home of Mint Cake is the large administrative town for the area and had somewhat of a scruffy appearance. Shoes were once big business here, but the K Shoes factory base is long gone. An old brewery is now a thriving Arts Centre and cinema and the shops leading down Branthwaite Brow were a cut above. Vera found a coffee venue to her liking - primarily because it had a self service doggy buffet full of biscuits to entice the canine custom. Alas, her legs were too short to allow it to be totally self service for her. We chuckled to ourselves, as some business events wannabe held his zoom meeting in a provincial coffee shop with a backdrop of slavering dogs intent of their next biscuit treat.

We ventured inland to Kirkby Lonsdale in search of "one of England's finest views". Turner painted the so called Ruskin's View over the River Lune. Alas today, the footpath leading to it was closed - unsafe after subsidence apparently - so we will never know if it all hype. The town centre was bustling. Small independent shops seemed to be doing a roaring trade. A number if people possibly didn't get as far as browsing that far, as they held an impromptu meeting about their failure to work a car park pay station. The Kirkby Lonsdale Brewery pub looked mighty inviting, but alas it too early in the day. We found no devil at Devil's Bridge and headed on to Ingleton. As pretty as it was, Ingleton seemed to be closed for business compared to Kirkby. The few visitors wandered aimlessly, scratching their heads. We drove out towards the mother of all viaducts. It had been a pleasant Spring day in Kirkby and Ingleton. However up at Ribblehead, high on the moor, it was a different world. The Settle to Carlisle railway line goes across some bleak country, but leaves some i impressive railway architecture. The Ribblehead Viaduct is simply enormous. The 24 arches spas 400 metres and 32 metres high. The construction started in 1869 and it took 2300 mean 7 years to construct. The area underneath was transformed into a huge shanty town - the sort of thing that you would have seen in the goldrush on the other side of the world. Imagine living up here year round under canvass. We retreated to the warmest nearby spot - "the great pub by the viaduct". You often find places with a captive audience xan disappoint. Not so at the Station Inn, Ribblehead. The real ale was on top form and I can wholeheartedly recommend the "Station Fish Butty".

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Photos

Old Brewery Arts Centre, Kendal
Old Leyland Clock

Comments

[Rainyb]

Where's the sticky toffee pudding? I LOVE that stuff ;o)