Day 3 - Ingleton to Settle, 15 miles.

Total ascent, 832m (2730ft).

Saturday, 4th August. 

I might have complained about Ye Olde Fighting Cocks at Arnside but at least the price reflected the room. Seed Hill is a pleasant B&B, but as I mentioned yesterday it’s far too expensive for what you get. Everything was a bit sticky, the decor was old and there was no summer fruit compote at breakfast. What I won’t do is go back on booking.com and complain about it; I’ll just leave it here safe in the knowledge that only two people and a dog know my thoughts. But of course in the end it comes down to location, and Ingleton is in a great location. I suppose if you are willing to pay £6 for the Ingleton Waterfall Trail (family discount £15) then you are willing to pay over the odds for accommodation too. 

One bonus of the B&B though was a card offering me a free dessert with any main course at the Wheatsheaf. I’d taken advantage of this offer last night and received a quite stunning apple crumble after a fairly average steak and ale pie. I hung around till fairly late but there was no way I was going to be last to leave on this occasion. Friday night in the Wheatsheaf means three lads and a girl talking with increasing levels of volume and aggression about three lads and a girl (probably) from the Craven Heifer down the road. I left them preparing for a fight.

My boots don’t leak but the sheer quantity of bogginess I walked through yesterday had allowed it to sneak in via my socks. They were still damp this morning and one inner and one outer sock had gone into the bin, trashed. Which left me with two partnerless, incompatible wet socks. I dropped them in the bin too, put my spares on and visited the walking shop opposite to buy some new ones. After ten minutes of looking at rack after rack of socks for every possible purpose I gave up and left empty handed. 

Mike arrived right on cue, or at least the bus did, and he was on it. Lunch sorted we set off on a very straightforward 90 minute walk to the top of Ingleborough, one of the Three Peaks. Although it was a Saturday there weren’t many people on the path up, or on the summit compared to my past visits. The route down took us past a couple of large groups of teenagers with guides (sample dialogue: “I need to sit down.” “OK, who here is in the leadership team? Sarah’s tired, so what can you do to support her?”) before arriving at Gaping Gill, the largest pothole in Britain with a vertical drop of 300ft into total blackness. The Craven Pothole Club were there, apparently to set up the winch to lower people into the void, but they were too busy drinking tea and eating bacon butties to do anything as useful as that.  

Gaping Gill - A (very) big hole in the ground. 

Further down we came to another toll path, this time a mere £1 but almost as annoying as yesterday’s as this time there wasn’t even a waterfall to ignore, just trees and a stream. Escape was trickier on this occasion as we had to walk through an actual ticket office, but a cursory “Thank you” did the trick, and we were soon sitting outside a Clapham cafe eating scones with jam and cream. 

The descent. 

The weather had been the polar opposite of yesterday, meaning you could see things for a start, but it became pretty hot from now on. At Austwick a pint was called for, and Mike took some convincing that a second one was not a necessity. By the time we arrived at the Royal Oak in Settle a second beer most certainly was a necessity, as were a curry, several more beers and a bottle of wine. 

Are pints getting smaller or am I getting bigger?

I have always liked Settle but a few things had changed in just a couple of years. The Royal Oak has always been a bit of a dingy pub but the other two were not much better. More noticeably only one outdoor shop remained, the others having turned into cafes, vape shops or “Car & Kitchen”. Is that somebody’s idea of a his ‘n’ hers shop? If so the window was heavy on the “kitchen” and light on the “car”. 

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