Today was the day I was crossing the Humber Bridge, which I felt slightly regretfully meant I was leaving the North of England.
The walk through Hull’s docklands was a mix of urban decay, graffiti and beautiful views of the river and the bridge.
When I reached the bridge I got to chatting to a chap sitting watching the river, he asked where I was going and said I aimed to get about five miles beyond New Holland. He told me there was a campsite there that had Alpacas. Lovely as this sounded my aim was to get to Cleethorpes in two days so I needed to push on along the Humber so the Alpacas would have to be given a miss.
As I approached the Humber bridge I discovered that they had closed the East side pedestrian access for an all day cycle race. This meant I had an extra mile to walk to get on the west path.
The view on the bridge was a sweeping panorama of the Humber. I also discovered I have become far less sensitive to traffic. When I crossed the Severn bridge I hated the noise and head high traffic, now I barely noticed it.
On arriving the South bank I found other diversion awaited me as I tried to get to the East side of the bridge, a further diversion meant I was four miles down on where I should be.
It was then I had a brainwave. I could take three days to get to Cleethorpes, a couple of phone calls later and I was booked at Marshland Alpacas Campsite and my Cleethorpes accomodation rearranged.
I arrived at the campsite and got my tent up. This is when Henry , a Maine Coon cat , arrived to inspect my tent. He checked it briefly then settled himself in the sun.
I got in my tent and started unpacking, suddenly there was a thud and one end of my tent collapsed. When I got outside I found Henry in a desperate battle against my tent which he subdued with some kicks of his rather large back paws. He wasn’t impressed by my lack of enthusiasm for his tent wrangling skills and stalked off with a contemptuous glance at the felled tent.
I put the tent back and settled for the night , tomorrow I get to see the Alpacas.