Archive Page 3 of 72



We interrupt this lull in order to bring you a rant from our sponsors.

I read on Yahoo News this morning that “veteran broadcaster” Terry Wogan has spoken out against the BBC, saying that it no longer is the world class broadcaster that it used to be.

Wogan has worked for the BBC for nearly his entire career and reportedly earns £800,000 a year (which I assume includes the £10,000 he gets paid to present the annual Children in Need charity telethon, the hypocritical gitbag). Which other broadcasting company would be willing to employ a geriatric gasbag like him? No other is the answer, at least not at those prices

But employed he should be. A lot of people enjoy listening to his banal whinging about how things used to be better in the old days and bemoaning the lack of “common sense”. He is the Daily Express letters page given human form, and there is certainly an audience for it. But can you imagine him on Kiss FM? Real Radio? Even Classic FM? No, you can’t. The reason he is popular is that he has been given a relatively long leash by the BBC.

The license fee has never been as good value as it is today. Look what we get: BBC 1, 2, 3, 4. Radio 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, & 7. BBC local radio. BBC website. BBC iplayer. And all for £12 a month. I’ve said it before, but I’d probably be willing to pay that just for radio 4 and 7 alone.

Sure the BBC put out some dross. Eastenders, Strictly Come Dancing, talent shows based around whatever musical Andrew Lloyd Webber is trying to promote that year. But that’s fine, I’m not supposed to like everything they produce. I can’t bear listening to BBC 1Xra but I recognize that it speaks volumes to others.

Most UK commercial channels aim themselves firmly and squarely at the lowest common denominator, with the possible exception of Channel 4 (but recently even they are struggling against their charter in order to do so). Now I’m the first to admit that the BBC does put out the odd bit of ratings chasing populist programing, but at least that isn’t all they put out. I watched a documentary the other night about comic writer Alan Moore. You wouldn’t get that on SKY 1.

What’s my point? As usual I don’t really have one. But it just galls me that the self promoting chronic complainer Sir Terry feels the need to go public with the gripes about his employer. Save it for the pub like everyone else. Even his commentary on the Eurovision has descended from witty banter to sour and bitter ranting on the unfairness of the voting system. It used to be that the Europeans didn’t get the absurd humor of the contest Terry, now it’s just you.

For a far more interesting, intelligent, and above all hilarious take on the BBC and the license fee make sure you listen to Stephen Fry’s recent Podcast on the subject. Now there’s another reason to pay the license fee in itself. To misquote Braveheart - You may take our Laurie’s, but you’ll never take our Stephen.

I now return you to the lull.

Apologies go to the chronically foreign who will have only understood every third word of this, and also to Neil and Rachael who are a ITV employee and Terry Wogan fan respectively.

Whernside Manor to Holme Farm

I woke up on the morning of day four feeling worse than I did when I went to bed. Actually I think we all woke up on day four feeling worse than we did when we went to bed. Certainly Sandip did, and he announced that after two days of no sleep he had had enough and was going home.

Ironic really as he was the one most prepared for the hike - regularly walking twelve miles a day and doing thirty mile bike rides. But it wasn’t the distances that did him in, it was the accommodation. Used to the life of luxury the prospect of yet another night of roughing it, this time in tents, was too much to bear.

The big girl.

Still, at least he gave it a go; and to fair he does have quite a lot going on in his personal life at the moment. Starting your own hairdressing and manicure business can be really stressful, and his pet poodle Foo-Foo has been off his food recently.

But although he was only with us a couple of days, Sandip still left his mark on us. For example I never realized how versatile swear words could be. Who knew that you could construct entire sentences using nothing but obscene profanities. Even Shakespeare didn’t have such skill with words.

Day four was meant to be an easy day. Just an 8 mile amble down the River Dee to Holme Farm where we would be camping for the night.

And to be fair most of the group did find it pretty easy. But Mushy and I had picked up injuries on the previous day’s walking - Mushy on his ankle and me on my leg. I’m still not sure what exactly I did, the best description I can come up with is that it felt like I had a taut steel wire over the back of my knee which hurt like buggery every time I bent it.

Things were going ok for the first four miles or so, but then it really started playing up and by the end of the walk I was in agony. It probably didn’t help that I had soaking wet feet due to rather foolishly taking a short cut through the river at around mile five.

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It seemed like a good idea at the time. (photo by Oli)

I also had a blister that ran most of the length of the ball of my foot then crept up between my big toe. For the first time I started to worry that I wasn’t going to make the entire walk. If I was having so much trouble after eight miles, what was it going to be like tomorrow when we had to walk fourteen.

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Rich Bassinder contemplates the cure

Despite all my worries and aches and pains the evening of day four was possibly my favorite of the entire walk. Kerry took a break from her sherpa duties and stayed with us on the campsite, which probably had a lot to do with it. But there was also a fun atmosphere both within the group and at the campsite itself.

There was also a wedding going on in the field next door. Two musicians were getting married and they had staged their very on music festival. God knows how much it all cost, but the fireworks at the end alone probably came to more than my and Kerrys entire wedding. I have a vague suspicion that the bride and/or groom may have been famous but google reveals nothing. Perhaps they were just rich.

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Mushy. His chin is naturally that blurry you know.

The very best thing however is that we had a campfire. There is just something about sitting around a fire laughing with your wife and seven of your best friends that creates a atmosphere of inner peace. Even if your leg does hurt like a bastard.

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Dave and Brooky. Sunglasses at twighlight, the very epitome of cool

Vital Statistics

Time set off: 10:00am
Time arrived: 3:00pm
Rough distance traveled: 8 miles
Times I regretted suggesting the walk: 18

You can find more photo’s of the day here and you can still see the video for the third day over at the ITV local site. Neil has also kindly uploaded some of the day three footage to youtube:

Oughtershaw to Whernside Manor

The third day started off pretty uncomfortably. Not only did I have the aches and pains of the past two days but my only pillow had been a cloth bag stuffed full of my spare clothes. Little did I know that that fitful night’s sleep was to be the best I was going to have in three days.

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Mr Smith (aka Sandip) in a rare photo, proving to his mother that he did in actual fact do some of the walk.

After a hearty breakfast and filling up my water bottle with suspiciously yellow tap water we set off walking. Any traces of optimism I may have had remaining were soon beaten out of me by a rather unpleasant hill. within half an hour of setting off we found ourselves climbing up to the highest point of the Dales Way, the point incidentally where it also joins briefly with the Pennine Way.

I have decided, I am never, ever going to do the Pennine Way.

In my estimation I am at least 70lb heavier than all of the other walkers, therefore at a natural disadvantage when hauling my carcass up bloody great big hills. I proposed that given this handicap the others should have at the very least offered to carry my backpack up for me. Strangely enough they all refused, muttering something about me “eating all the pies”. The swine. Still, after much huffing, puffing, and cursing geological plate tectonics I made it to the top.

Then it was downhill for a bit, then flat for a bit, and all was looking right with the world. But then we received a message over the walkie talkies that the fast group had just had to tackle a slope that they had ominously christened “The Bitch Hill”. Oh joy.

My guidebook had said that The Dales Way was an easy gentle walk suitable for beginners! If I had had a mobile phone reception I’d have rung Amazon and demanded my money back.

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The view from the top of The Bitch Hill. I’d like to say it was worth it, but quite frankly it wasn’t.

We were about five miles into the day and had nine more to go. I’m pretty sure that stumbling up that Bitch Hill was responsible for the problems I would later have with my right leg,. Mushy thinks it was responsible for the injury that saw him relegated into the slow group too.

Still, onwards and (thankfully) downwards. We spent a couple of hours traversing some pretty desolate moorland, then descended towards Dent Head Viaduct into another Valley bottom.

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Dent Head Viaduct. there are probably some interesting facts about it somewhere if you look.

The remainder of the day was pretty much straight forward. We all ran out of water at one point and were too English to dare ask anybody for some. Thank god for honorary Scotsman Oli who saved all of our lives by knocking on the door of The Sportsman Inn. If he hadn’t have persuaded the landlady to allow us to fill our bottles from her outdoor toilet (the taps obviously) we would have all been desiccated skeletons by now.

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“You ask”, “No you ask”, “No YOU ask”

Whernside Manor, the accommodation on the third night was slightly less salubrious than it’s name might suggest. The Manor was built by a slave trading family in the 18th century and it’s grounds were used to house the slaves. And I think I know where they kept them.

photo by Oli

Now I’m up here, how the hell do I get down again?

Gav and Jez very wisely chose to bow out at this point as they both had weddings to go to. Gav however would rejoin us later on the walk.

The facilities were basic, which was fine. The main problem was the fact that there were swarms of man eating midges outside and so we had to sleep with all the windows closed. Have you ever slept in a room with nine other sweaty snoring men with all the windows closed on one of the hottest nights of the year? No, neither have I because I didn’t sleep a wink.

Still it was cheap, and the owners (Lord and Lady something-or-other) even knocked £20 off the price when they heard we were doing it for charity, so it would be churlish to complain too much.

Vital Statistics

Time set off: 9:30am
Time arrived: 4:30pm
Rough distance traveled: about 14 miles
Number of times I sulked: 2

You can find more photo’s of the day here and you can still see the video for the third day over at the ITV local site. Neil has also kindly uploaded some of the day three footage to youtube:

Grassington to Oughtershaw

On the morning of the second day we were all rather surprised that we didn’t ache quite as much as we thought we would. At one point I was even able to bend my leg, which was a bonus.

There were a few members of our group that were unable to start on the Wednesday with us due to various other commitments, but by Thursday afternoon we were up to our full compliment. The arrival of Jez, Lee and Sandip really provided a boost to the group. Eleven men all devoting ninety percent of their brainpower to come up with obscene double entendres is a powerful force indeed.

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The brothers Bassinder, Rich and Jez, work on 101 double meanings for “limestone crag”

The first half of the day was spent walking over the limestone hills between Grassington and Kettlewell. Many of the group have said that this was their favourite stretch of the walk but it was a little bleak for my tastes. Plus there were a couple of hills. I am of the opinion that hills are a Very Bad Thing.

After lunch and a pint in Kettlewell we were off again, rejoining the river Wharfe that we had left at the end of day one. We had once more split up into two groups: fast and slow. Of course my natural athleticism would normally earmark me for the fast group; but I felt sorry for the others and so decided to selflessly hang back and pretend that I was some sort of unfit panting oaf to make them feel better about themselves.

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You will notice that nearly all my photos are of people walking away from me. Any accusations that this is because I was always at the back will meet with swift legal action

At one point we passed an elderly couple in their mid sixties who were out for a day’s walking. After exchanging pleasantries we joked that we would see them again when they passed us. “Oh no” they said “We go so slow that we’ve never ever passed anyone”.

They passed us twice. Oh the shame.

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Rich looks all noble

We caught our first glimpse of Kerry, our sherpa, in a village called Buckden where we had stopped for ice creams (a can of diet coke: 60p. Very reasonable). She was in the process of driving both Sandip and our bags to our accommodation and had stopped to buy milk. Sandip took the opportunity walk the rest of the way with us, and Kerry went on to dump our gear and make sure the bunkbarn was ready for us.

We caught one more glimpse of Kerry that day from opposite sides of the river. In a brief shouted conversation she told us that we only had four miles left to do. I think there must be something wrong with the odometer on our car, as that last four miles seemed more like about twenty.

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Oli tries to work out why we keep seeing signs for Cardiff. Notice his handy dandy portable stool.

The last few miles really took their toll, and it was a pretty miserable group of men that dragged their way up the steps to Swarthghyll Farm Bunkhouse. Still, we were all cheered to see that Dave and Lee were in the midst of preparing a mighty dinner of spaghetti bolognaise for us. Good men!

The evening was spent drinking beer and playing Oli’s name game. A game it appears I am incapable of playing without going into some sort of sulk. I am not a man designed to spend 24 hours a day in other’s company, and the combination of fatigue and compulsory sociability led me to be a little grumpy on a couple of the evenings. I mention it here only in order to hold my hands up to being a bit of a pillock at times, and in no way should you infer that there were any serious or lasting fallings out during the trip. On the whole everone got on very well, and I’d gladly do something similar with any one of them in the future (although not just yet please, I need to let my blisters heal).

So that was the end of the second day. During the planning stage I had assumed it was going to be the hardest one. I hadn’t however counted on the effect that the hills of day three would have on my already weary bones.

Vital Statistics

Time set off: 9:45am
Time arrived: 7:00pm
Rough distance travelled: about 17/18 miles
Number of sheep shagging jokes: 86

You can find more photo’s of the day here, and you can still see the video footage of the second day over at the ITV local site. Neil has also kindly uploaded some of the day two footage to youtube:

Videos

Just a quick note to say all the video diaries from all six of the days of the walk are now up on the ITV yorkshire website.

Thanks go to Neil and all at ITV who edited down our rubbish to try and find something of at least slight merit. Thanks guys.

Ilkley to Grassington

The task of reporting all 78 miles of our walk of the Dales Way seems almost as daunting as the hike was itself. Therefore I’m not going to bore you with a blow by blow account.

I do want to record it’s general feel for posterity however, and so I’m afraid I’m going to subject you to at least some half baked amateur travel writing. If that seems a bit too much to stomach then I’d advise you to give this blog a miss for a week or so and hope that when you return I’ll be back to blogging about my bodily functions once again.

The personnel of the walk varied slightly throughout the start due to various commitments, but those present right from the start were (from left to right) Mushy, Rich, Gav, Oli, Dave, Craig, me and Brooky.

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Trying to look buoyant and optimistic while secretly worrying that our backpacks are far too heavy.

Within a mile we had naturally split up into two groups, the slow walkers and the fast walkers. I had anticipated this would happen, it was why I bought some walkie talkies so we could keep in contact. I hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly though. I stopped to take a photo, turned round, and half of the buggers were disappearing over the horizon.

The first six or so miles were very easy going, and we stopped for a horrendously overpriced lunch at a cafe near Bolton Priory (£1.50 for a can of Diet Coke! The swines!). Then it was over some stepping stones and into Strid Wood where we ran into a couple who had done the Dales Way twice before and assured us that the walk got easier as the days went on. I have since considered reporting these two to the police for such blatant disinformation.

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Craig and Brooky stubbornly ignoring my pleas for them to ‘fall in for the camera”

Once out of Strid Wood we had to take a minor detour to Bardon Tower ruins where a very grumpy restaurant owner allowed Oli to refill his water bottle but wouldn’t let us sit down on their outside tables. Then onwards towards Burnsall via an ice cream van (£1 for a can of Diet Coke! The bastards!).

On reaching Burnsall we had done around twelve miles, and were starting to feel rather drained. We also managed to catch up with Rich, Gav, Mushy and Dave who told me they had been working very hard filling the video camera with “interesting facts”. It was, they assured me, television gold. They had also spent the last half hour or so drinking in the beer garden of a nearby pub and to my sweat stung eyes they all looked very unfairly refreshed.

The last three miles to Grassington was a bit of a struggle to say the least. Which was a shame as the scenery would have been breathtaking should I have had any spare breath to take.

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Walking towards Grassington

We stayed the night at the Foresters Arms, but much to our disappointment had little energy for any serious drinking. We had a fantastic meal then sloped of in dribs and drabs to bed. The latest any of us were up was 10:30pm. Quiet the party animals I’m sure you’ll agree.

Vital statistics

Time set off: 10am
Time arrived: 6pm
Rough distance traveled: about 16/17 miles
Number of swear words uttered: 587

You can find more photos of the day here, and you can also still see the video footage we took of the first day over at the ITV local site. Neil also very kindly put some of it on youtube for us:

…but now what can I blog about?

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The mighty conquerors of the Dales Way.

More tomorrow. Tonight - Bath, pain killers, and bed.

Day 6 - They’ve made it!!!

Continue reading ‘Day 6 - They’ve made it!!!’

Civilisation is reached at last - Day Five

Dan and Co. have now reached Kendal at the end of Day Five and are rewarding themselves with a very well deserved chinese meal. Only ten more miles to go now. Hopefully tomorrow at lunchtime they will make their way towards the bench which marks the end of the Dales Way in Bowness. Myself, Rachael, Lydia and Eve along with Dan’s wife Kerry and Lee’s wife Natalie will be amongst the party at the finish! They have done so well.

More video should be posted by the team at ITV Local tomorrow with the big finish going online on Tuesday. I’ll try and do what I can to get it on youtube too. Although that won’t be tomorrow as I’m not in work.

I’ll leave you with Dan’s twitterings from the past 36 hours or so.

  • Now we have reached civilisation we’re planning on making the most of it and are going for a chinese 1900 from txt
  • Arrived in kendal with no further problems other than our ongoing blisters and general aches. 1900 from txt
 
  • Today hasn’t actually been as bad as i thought it would be. 1400 from txt
 
  • Stopped for lunch. five miles left to go today, fifteen in total. 1400 from txt
 
  • Fourteen miles today. Then ten tomorrow. Then i am never bloody walking anywhere again. 0800 from txt
 
  • Decided to keep with the group today so they can carry me if i need them to. They don’t know this yet. 0600  from txt
 
 
 
  • I’m going to get up early and set off before the others tomorrow in an effort not to slow them down. 05:22 PM July 26, 2008 from txt
 
 
 
  • End of the fourth day. I am feeling very very bad indeed. Now we have to put up the tents. 14 miles tomorrow. 02:38 PM July 26, 2008 from txt
 

Day Four - This is twice as hard as I thought

I have received many twitterings from Dan this morning and even managed to get through to him on his phone as they reach an area with better mobile reception. He told me that Sandip has had to drop out and has headed home.

Anyway as the twitters are not appearing properly on this site, I’ll copy and paste them……

  • Around half way though day three it started to get very hard. I have rather large blisters and what feels like highly strung wire instea …12.32 from txt
  • This is twice as hard as i thought it was going to be, so i think everyone should donate twice the money as well. 12.30 from txt
  • We’ve lost sandip, he decided that he’d rather sleep at home than with nine other men in a boiling hot bunkbarn. 12.28 from txt
  • Sorry about the lack of updates, i haven’t had a mobile signal for the past couple of days. 12.20 from txt





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