Nope, still estuary! But at least the sun shone today. This time we were on the other side of Morecambe Bay, at Grange-over-Sands, looking south towards Arnside where we were about two weeks ago. Grange is known for its mild climate – there are palm trees growing along the promenade – and for its stunning views out over the bay to the town of Morecambe, and even to the Pennines beyond.
It was clear enough today to see all that and more. The tide was well out when we arrived, but what we could see of the sea sparkled and the air was brisk. We walked along the prom, stopped for a takeaway cuppa at one of the cafes and even perched on a bench to drink it, watching the world and lots of small dogs go by.
Suitably hydrated we marched along the rest of the promenade, past lots of flowers including tulips and early violets (and those palm trees), then carried on along the footpath most of the way to the neighbouring village of Kents Bank. It’s quite a level walk and you end up going further than you think, so we had a sudden panic when we realised we were about 2 miles from the car and the parking ticket was running out… But we made it back, with about two minutes to spare, and had a pretty drive back past lambs and along lake Windermere.
In Grange we parked on Windermere Road, opposite an attractive terrace of limestone cottages. I noticed one of them had a black plaque on it so went to have a look, but the text was too small to read, apart from the heading of ‘Eggerslack Terrace’. I’ve just looked it up on the openplaques.org website, and apparently the name Eggerslack is Norse, and refers to the maximum height the tidal bore reached along this shore, before the railway embankment was built. It’s a scary thought that it came so high up into the town, but apparently the terrace used to be fishermen’s cottages so presumably they could launch their boats from the front door!
These days thanks to a change in the path of the river channels through Morecambe Bay, the golden sands of Grange-over-Sands have been replaced by salt marsh. It’s a bit less scenic, but still fascinating – and a magnet for wading birds and other wildlife. And as if on cue, while we were walking I heard the increasingly rare sound of a curlew crying out in the bay. Pure magic, and a lovely reminder of childhood holidays in the town.
FIONA GLASS 