We leave the pretty, prosperous little town of Pocklington and head for the Pocklington canal. I’m hopeful that we’ll see some water birds but, as we approach, it’s clearly overgrown and choked with reeds and other vegetation. Still, the path is excellent underfoot and a song thrush serenades us as we walk. It seems level and easygoing, but the presence of locks indicates that we are in fact heading very slightly downhill: leaving the foothills of the wolds to enter the Vale of York.
We cross a road and soon see yellow water lilies as the water becomes clearer. We hear, though don’t see, a sedge warbler and a pair of swans glide past. Things are looking up. We pass a pair of moorhens paddling in the shallows and stop for a break by a little inlet with a pub. Richard finally answers a number that has been ringing all week. It’s the pest control people trying to sort out the wasps’ nest at home. Just as we are packing up, a kingfisher swoops past looking for fish.
We then pass some coots and finally come across a family of swans preening. The canal’s not been so bad after all.
We leave the waterside and head up a B road to a footpath. It is well signposted and we walk for about a mile and a half towards the river Derwent (one of four river Derwents in England) watching a grey heron take flight at our approach. There is a snag though. There is a deep, steep ditch between us and the bridge across the river. There is an obvious crossing site, but the structure there has collapsed years ago. We head back the way we came but then suddenly decide Rich should go and have another look. As he wanders around the edge of the ditch, I wait with the packs. There is a rustle in the grass and at first I think there are some rabbits, but soon a group of leverets appear. There a four of them, almost fully grown, chasing each other back and forth across the field. Soon they scamper off into the bushes, though a little while later, a fifth hare runs across the field to the others. Rich returns and has not identified a suitable crossing. We agree to cut our losses and stop for lunch.
A couple arrive with a red setter and tell us that they have been looking for a route over the ditch for years. They also decide to go and have a look, but find nothing. As we’re talking, a red kite flies overhead. While we’ve been chatting, there are several missed calls from Thomas on our phones. He and Robert are supposed to be meeting us in York tonight. We call him back and he explains that he has booked the dog into kennels with the same name but in Northern Ireland by mistake! We ring round frantically, helping him to find a nearer boarding kennel. It has not been a restful lunch break.
We return to the B road and change our route to follow this for longer, which will be less interesting but will reduce the mileage. We trundle along for three miles past an airfield until we reach a footpath and finally turn off. A text from Thomas tells us he’s missed his train.
We approach a small road and follow it over the A64, the outer ring road of York. Inside the ring road, it’s still very rural for a further mile or so as the road we are on does not connect to the A64 and leads only to some farms. We walk through the university campus and along the inner ring road outside the city walls until we eventually reach Monkbar Mews, where we have rented an apartment for us, Tom and Robert. Hopefully, they’ll both arrive late the evening in time for our rest day tomorrow.
Total distance so far: 224 miles
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