August 15, 2017: South Cave to Goodmanham
Shortly after leaving South Cave we encounter the unique sight of an East Yorkshire vineyard. So perhaps that should be North Cava.
Gavan and I usually opted for an earlier rather than a later breakfast time – in order to leave us as much time as possible on the trail – and so it was as we rose to begin our third day on the Yorkshire Wolds Way. We left our bags at reception and, Charlie having disappeared, the morning’s receptionist, Shona, decided to drive us back to South Cave herself. We were able to direct her to the exact spot on the Beverley Road where we had last left the route and at 8:50 we were ready to make our departure.
We would be travelling at ever higher altitudes on this day – though nothing resembled a hill in these parts – and we were soon rising on a path with fields on our right and Little Wold Plantation on our left. Much to our surprise the fields in question were devoted to viniculture – yes, a real vineyard in East Yorkshire. Gavan posed me here for the phone photo of the day. Nearby was one of those melting benches, etched in poetry, which we often encountered on this trail.
After our first climb the track began a descent in an easterly direction and we abandoned it to drop down into little Comber Dale. At the bottom we continued along the side of Weedley Dale for several minutes and then turned north again to rise slowly along the bottom of the beautifully wooded East Dale. Our track took us all the way to the end of this space and we emerged in one of those amber fields of grain that characterized so much of the local landscape. It was a lovely sunny morning.
Sheep welcome us to Swin Dale.
A very short section on the busy highway up here was followed by a more protracted progress on country lanes, mostly level. By this time we could see how well way-marked the route was, with finger posts always showing us the way to turn – though many of the routes up here carried rival footpaths as well. A beacon erected in 2002 also marked another northern turn-off. A hedgerow accompanied us as we dropped down into dale territory again, finding many sheep enjoying the pastures of Swin Dale.
After reaching the lower road to North Newbold we turned right on its margins and then left as we abandoned it for a steep climb to the upper road. A farm at our turnoff offered the disturbing presence of a grunting piggery (was this another factor in Gavan’s growing vegetarianism?) but there were visual blots as well. I have never been that fond of the wind farm but I would have to endure the close proximity of dozens of these monstrous and noisy turbines on the Yorkshire Wolds Way.
We rose to a height of 472 feet, marked by a trig point pillar. By this time it was obvious that today’s march would be more of a challenge than anything attempted so far – but we were doing well. Another five-mile marker post greeted us near Hessleskew Gare farm. Now we crossed the busy A1079 and approached a farmstead called Arras. Here we sat down on the grassy margins and paused to eat our packed lunches. I must say that sitting down on the ground was not an easy procedure for me and I usually ended up by falling onto my back as the last stage of this process. It was in fact easier to rise, if I rolled onto my knees first.
Gavan arrives at the Goodmanham Arms.
After lunch we wandered through the rest of the farm and began a descent amid large fields, eventually reaching a road crossing where all Yorkshire Wolds Way walkers have to make a decision. There are, in fact, two endings to today’s stage. If you head west and south you come to the village of Market Weighton. If you head west and north you come, even more quickly, to the somewhat smaller village of Goodmanham. In our case the choice had been made for us in the assignment of our accommodation provider, whose Shiptonthorpe establishment, Robeanne House, was closer to Goodmanham. So we continued in this direction, soon reaching the main street and heading for our rendezvous point, the Goodmanham Arms. It was 5:15 and we had walked twelve miles.
Our landlady had warned me that she didn’t do pickups before 4:00 (not a problem any longer) but we had a nice relaxing time of it before I called her. Oh the beer went down divinely as we faced the lively scene out front. In one chair a huge senior walker was perched with his heavy pack (containing camping gear) in an adjacent chair. Gavan lifted this object and was more than impressed by its weight. Our landlady, advised of our arrival, said that we were to have another beer, sit out front in the sun, and that she would pick us up in her red car in a little over ten minutes.
Again we had just a five-minute drive to the b&b – such off-route diversions are evidently needed because of the paucity of accommodation on the route itself. A chap soon delivered our bags to a room on the top floor of an extension of the main house and we showered and relaxed – reporting for dinner at 6:30. The chap in question, a Dane (with no accent) was working locally and Gavan, who is a very good listener, had soon worked out this fellow’s life history as we shared a lasagna, new potatoes and some cold vegetables in oil. It was all very good – though some earlier diners, long-time guests at this establishment, remained in the background. She watched the telly, he (at the other end of the table) offered sour comments on just about everything.
I had another bottle of beer and we had a kind of Eton Mess for dessert. In all, this had been another successful day on the YWW.
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