Lots of energy yesterday, so back to the beach. We don't want to do the same walks too often, though, so we went to the other end this time – the end with the Victorian houses.
Now, this bit of the beach wasn't what I expected, even though I've been here many, many times in my life. Something odd has happened to this place. The last time I was here properly, which was admittedly about ten years ago, there was a decent stretch of golden sand. But the groynes seem to have created salt flats because the beautiful sand has turned into crusty, cracked, strange ground that does something odd to time.
We get to this bit first and it all looks quite normal for a beach, if a bit muddy. Except that that bluish-grey bit in the middle ground isn't water.
Then we get to some grass. I'm telling you, this definitely wasn't here before. This has sprung up quite recently, I'm sure of it. Landscapes do change, though, and I should probably just get over it.
Where we're heading is that white building around the middle of the shot. That's the Midland Hotel. Doesn't look too far, does it?
We get past the grassy bit, and we're onto the beach. What I couldn't capture in a still photo was the sand being caught up by the wind and buffeted around, like you see in documentaries about the Sahara, only tiny. That's a belting clear sky, though, eh? (You need to say that last sentence in a Lancashire accent.)
So, we skipped along this crusty, crispy beach for what felt like about 17 hours, marvelling at the crackiness and the crunchiness. It was really very salty, like when you do that salt water evaporation experiment in your first year at senior school and you get those amazing salt crystals. We looked back after a while and were puzzled and a little bit terrified to find that we'd only come this far:
We had got a little bit closer to the Midland, but it was still about 25 miles away. Also, we'd need to somehow get past that other person walking on the beach because he was walking straight towards us and we had no masks or gloves.
And, since when have pigeons been beach birds? I crept up on these ones because they looked like some kind of waders from a distance – I was disgusted when I got close enough to see what they were. Imposters.
But they do make a nice sound: https://www.british-birdsongs.uk/rock-pigeon/
Look at that sand – isn't it weird?!
Anyway, everything definitely went all wibbly wobbly, timey wimey, and we walked for days and days, running out of water very quickly (tea had to be saved for the halfway point), having to crawl on our hands and knees the last few miles ... until, finally, we reached the other side.
Here's the Midland. It's a little bit famous for being an Art Deco style building, and it is very pretty ... from the front and the inside. This is the back, which looks a bit like a prison. But they do a famous and delicious afternoon tea. I've never had the afternoon tea, so I should put that on the list for things to do after the lockdown. I have had their cocktails, though, which are stellar.
We had a very brief rest here and looked back to see how far we'd come. As we thought, 45 miles. We tried not to think about the trek back over the salt flats.
You don't really come to this bit of the prom without walking along the Stone Jetty, which is just here on the left. However, we first had to negotiate the crowds of people who were out today. We decided it would be best if we walked in single file, the two of us. We managed to get through without bumping into anyone, but it was a close thing.
This is the Stone Jetty. Deceptively dull and featureless – there's actually loads going on here. It's covered in stones and sculptures and puzzles and all manner of lovely imaginative things to while away a little time. Look, a little maze here:
And there's only a bunch of bloody dragon eggs!!! Amazing.
Now then, this is just about the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. This is quite new – you can tell it is because it's so clean. I spent a good while trying to puzzle out what it was before I realised I was standing in front of a sign that told me. The sign had a handy QA code on it that took me to this site: timeandtidebell.org. So it's a time and tide bell. What a lovely thing.
Right at the end of the jetty, you're a teeny bit closer to the Lakes. The clearest photo of the hills I've managed to get yet! What I was trying to get was one of the fields near the beach because I wanted to know if there were sheep in them.
We had our cup of tea on the jetty. It was lush, basking in the sun, breathing in the wholesome sea air, trying not to think about the 45-mile trek back over death valley to the car. We could actually have just walked back along the prom, of course, but where would be the fun in that?
Seven days and seven nights we walked, back the way we came. At some point – I can't remember exactly when because I was delirious, as is usual in the desert – I somehow got it together enough to take a photo of a few of the Victorian terraces, but this was as zoomed in as I could get. Also, more pigeons – or possibly the same ones.
I would just like to point out that this is all that's left of the nice sandy sand.
So there's another bit of Morecambe for you. You probably feel as though you know the place very well by now. Plenty more lockdown days to go, though, so you'll know it even better by the time we're back to normal. Aren't you excited?? I am.
Until tomorrow, surfers.
WQ
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