Thankfully, the walk from the Lion Inn to Egton Bridge was one of the easiest days on the walk. I was able to drag my body around and then down the moor, zombie like, slowly but surely ticking off the miles.
This 11 mile section of the walk was pretty much done in one go, for fear that I wouldn’t be able to get moving again if I stopped. I did sit at the top of the moor, and then also by a bench in Glaisdale. I thought there was going to be a shop in the village where I could get an ice cream, but it was closed. A crushing defeat. Apparently, Glaisdale was Northern England Village of Year in 2002. I bet I could have got an ice cream then. I did think about trying to get a taxi to pick me up from that bench to take me to my hotel. If there had of been Ubers available in random North Yorkshire villages then I probably would have done.
When I arrived in Egton Bridge, I was pretty much a spent force. There haven’t been many days in my life where I couldn’t be bothered to eat dinner, and this wasn’t one of them. It was damn close. Lying in bed, watching the Olympics on the TV, there was minimal desire for any unnecessary movement. I had intended to take a stroll to Grosmont, but that idea was now completely out of the window.