Standing above Ulverston is the Hoad Monument. It was built in 1850 to honor Ulverston’s other favorite son: Sir John Barrow, one of the founders of the Royal Geographical Society. It’s one of the most prominent landmarks in Cumbria, visible for miles around.
We really have had exceptional luck with weather so far in Britain. Sure, it would have been great to have a dry day in Wasdale to climb up one of the easier fells; but how much better it was to have had it for yesterday’s ride down to Ulverston! As challenging as the day was, it would have been a ghastly experience in the rain.
So it feels like a bonus to be here and have another fair day - or fair for most of the day at least, and enough for us to make the most of our last day in Northern England with this brilliant loop of the Furness Peninsula. It was partly cloudy throughout the day, lasting until we returned to our inn about 4. And it was still dry for the 20 minute walk to The Mill for our excellent dinner.
But that was it. We came out from out meal about an hour later and stepped into a steady rainfall that would last throughout the night and isn’t expected to let up for the next two days at least. We’ve had our fun. Time to move on.
There is some beautiful cycling on the Furness Peninsula, especially if you rise up above the busy coast road. The interior is latticed with quiet roads, lovely countryside, modest hills, and views to the sea.
Another view of Ulswick. We’re at the crown of the peninsula here, with fine views all around and the quiet lane lined with sheep sleeping on the verge.
The ruins of Gleaston Castle, believed to date from the 14th century. The remains on the left have a sly, jaunty look like a figure with a woolen cap pulled down over one eye.
Just past the castle we came to this gent by the side of the road and asked about the ruins. He proceeded to give us a detailed history of the region - he could be a tour guide, and I wish we’d recorded him - and then pointed out the building behind him: the recently restored Gleaston water corn mill.
It was a shock to drop to the shore and look east across Morecambe Bay. It’s just past low tide and it looks almost like you could walk across the bay.
Polly LowIn fact you can (though usually from a little further south) -- but you need to take a guide (who used to be appointed by the Queen/Duke of Lancaster; she's now delegated the job to a charity: https://www.guideoversands.co.uk/ ) Reply to this comment 1 year ago
Our lunch stop, sitting on the sea wall staring at a ribbon of gulls. I think this must be the outlet of Sarah Gill. Looking at the satellite view here it’s clear that a few hours later water would be lapping around our feet.
I was startled to look out beyond the gulls and see what I thought were whitecaps (it’s great having glasses again!), so I zoomed in. The tide isn’t just coming in, it’s racing in. We can almost see the water rise and move closer as we watch. Morecambe Bay has one of the largest tidal bores in the world.
Crossing the Cavendish Dock Causeway at the entrance to Barrow-in-Furness. Barrow itself is no great fun to bike across, but the miles on either side are a pure delight.
