Day 28: Something of a slog

Phil dropped me early in the salubrious surroundings of The Range car park in Blackburn, which I suspect features in very few LEJOG guide books. Their entrance veranda proved a very useful shelter as I climbed into my waterproofs - it was another wet one.

Today’s route was on the Leeds Liverpool canal all day. It’s a contour canal with very few locks on this stretch: on the plus side, that means it’s flat but, on the other hand, the path meanders every which way, adding miles I could do without.

I don’t mind a canal walk and there was no breeze at all but I found it hard going all day. The rain didn’t help and there were only a handful of walkers out. The motorway runs alongside for much of the leg, so it was pretty noisy as well. In these circumstances, I make my amusement as best I can and my walking pole is a useful prop in this regard.

I practice numerous cricket shots; a sumptuous Joe Root cover drive, a vicious Viv Richards square cut or my own signature shot - the half-hearted forward defensive prod and the quick glance round as the stump cartwheels out of the ground. A look to the heavens and the bat (pole) goes under the arm and I’m off to the pavilion.

The pole also doubles as a rifle to run through the Dad’s Army credits - Jones’ comedy trip, Walker drawing on his ciggy, Pikey looking unexpectedly alert and Fraser anxiously anticipating the enemy in Walmington on Sea.

The canal goes by the edge of Rishton and then to Burnley. I took a short cut through the backstreets of Burnley to avoid a meandering loop (if you’re ever on the same walk, the extra miles are probably preferable).

I gave up waiting for a bench and lunched on a climbable wall in what was the least scenic of dining choices to date. On through Nelson and eventually to Foulridge, where I stopped for a coffee - the one cafe or pub I passed all day.

The only real wildlife was a handful of ducks, two goldfinches and about 100 Canadian Geese. These were not gaggled together but just in singles or pairs every quarter of mile. And every single one hissed at me: I have clearly upset the animal kingdom.

Eventually, after 25 miles, I reached Alma Cliff, my B&B in Barnoldswick. My feet are aching more than at any other time tonight; not blistered, they just feel a little bruised, perhaps because most of the path was concrete. I was also carrying my overnight rucksack. It didn’t feel too bad when I was walking but every time I stopped to take it off, I felt like I was floating on air or growing a few inches taller. It reminded me of having someone sit on my shoulders to tie the net on the crossbar on a Sunday morning.

A shorter day tomorrow. Initially, I'm back on the canal for 8 miles to Gargrave, where I join the Pennine Way to Malham, another 8 or 9 miles, where I will be reunited with Phil and the motorhome.

Just off to check where you can request a foot massage in Barnoldswick.