Alone Beneath The Sky: Church Fenton to York 23/04/16

16.6 miles, via Cawood, Kelfield, Stillingfleet, Naburn & Fulford.

If you've decided to travel from Church Fenton station, you have to start when the two-hourly trains allow you to, so against all my normal walking instincts the day has to start by hopping off the 8.50am arrival, with the weather bringing on a bright Spring-like sky, but a fearsome wind coming on from the North-West, and the day has to start with some trainspotting before striking off along Station Road to the village centre. The road beyond the White Horse is wholly new territory, finally making an appearance after many comfortable days inside West Yorkshire, and my impression of the village holds steady, continuing to grow as a commuter settlement but still retaining a lot of rural charm, and populous enough to sustain two pubs, as the Fenton Flyer is met as Main Street starts to snake its way back into the countryside. Run out of footways as Busk lane turns to Brackenhill Lane, but for once we seem to have found a country lane that doesn't have a lot of traffic on it, and once beyond the turn to Biggin, you could kid yourself that you have this flatland lane to yourself, and attention can wander to the extensive site to the north that was once RAF Church Fenton, and has since become East Leeds airport, which seems like a rather overly ambitious title at the moment, but let's see where the economics take it, eh? Press on past Paradise Grange farm, and on to the long drag to Violet Hill farm, with only Paradise Wood and the passage of trains on the distant ECML for company, and this landscape illustrates well the difficulties of any walk from West Yorkshire to York, as your path of choice will be wholly determined by where you can cross the Ouse or the Wharfe. No train action at all to be seen once I get to the footbridge over the railway, and the farm track walking continues, onto and around Primrose Hill farm before hitting a brief field walk to meet the avenue of trees at the outer end of Fostergate Lane, which leads us purposefully over towards the village of Cawood, where contemporary development has grown around the peripheries but the centre still has the feel of a 19th century fishing village. The 19th century feeling extends to the roads, clearly inadequate for the B1223 and B1222, but it would be impossible to widen in any way, and the traffic directing measures on the 1872 swing bridge don't feel like they've been updated since its construction, and it's a wonderful moment of serendipity coming my way as I cross over the Ouse and meet a horse-drawn Gypsy caravan crossing to the south.

So across the major landscape obstacle for the day, and once on the north (or east) bank of the Ouse, I ponder if we are now in the East Riding again, and the most direct route across Kelfield Ings won't be taken today, instead heading along the riverside embankment downstream, towards Kelfield itself, and taking in a flat landscape that you know suffers horribly when the river floods. Kelfield village is deserving of a visit when we are this close, quite a collection of houses hidden behind its flood defences and dolled up colourfully, but not for HMQ's 90th birthday or for St George's Day, but to greet the Tour de Yorkshire when it comes along next weekend, and I'm utterly charmed by the place, noting the Grey Horse pub, and the garden full of gnomes, as well as the Manor farm, built with an old moat as its garden feature. Push out of the village at Moor End, finding the tree lined bridleway that gets me back towards the shortest path to my destination, and the problem of flatland walking is felt again as distances seem to be much longer than the map might suggest, and a field walk is necessary to get back to the B1222, but after the wet tramping days of the past, it's good to find the going is now firm and dry. Not too far to go without pavements before we meet the outer edge of Stillingfleet, taking a left by the Cross Keys Inn and wandering downhill to the crossing of Stillingleet Beck, and this is one village that knows the risks of the Ouse backing up as it sits well back from its stream on both sides, with plenty of pasture to protect it from inundation. Pause for an early lunch on the wall of St Helen's church and get going again once I feel fortified to face a long road walk, and the pavements run out sooner than I was anticipating, just past the old garage, and thus wits have to be sharp as far too much traffic seems to be using this lane for a savage burn when the A19 really isn't all that far away. Still, there are points of interest along the way, mostly found by looking into Moreby Park, with the proudly Victorian and Gothic Moreby Hall at its centre, and that will have to compensate for the lack of views towards the much older Bell Hall on the other side of the road. The Ouse sneaks into view by the roadside as the edge of the City of York's district boundary is crossed, but we are still in the rural grip out here, passing Naburn Grange and the Naburn Lock caravan and camping park, preventing access to the most interesting part of the riverside below the city, but the change of names tells us that the next village can't be far away.

The spire of St Matthew's Naburn soon announces itself on the horizon, and the village approach brings us a footway once again, and I know there will be no more road walking on the rest of the route to York, and slip away from the main road by the Blacksmith's Arms to Main Street and Front Street, to get a look at the old thoroughfare through the village and the slipway down to the Ouse. In these days of desirable residences in the country, it's easy to forget the riverside industries that used to operate in villages like these, and Naburn is no exception, and with the presence of the York Marina further up the road, it's one that still has the boat-building and chandlering, as well as the tourism aspect in its local economy. Briefly, at the north edge of the village, we get a railway relic, the bridge carrying the old East Coast Main Line, built by the NER and operational from 1871 to 1983, and replaced by the Selby Diversion line, and now a Sustrans path that will demand future attention, but for now it will just have to provide me with a cycle track alongside the road. Press on northwards, with the vast complex of sewage works that service York sat between the river and the road, providing rustic (and worse) smells for far too long until the signs start saying that you have met Fulford, and the equally sizeable York Designer Outlet is to be found hiding away behind many trees. Oddly, it's not accessible from this side at all, they must know all the traffic arriving must come from the A64 or the A19, soon passed over and joined respectively, and perhaps it's appropriate for a site which was once the city asylum? Anyway, pass over Germany Beck, and the site of the Battle of Fulford, the first and least known of 1066's three notable battles, and the A19 Main Street leads us on into Fulford, looking the part of an 18th century suburb and now forming the outer portion of York, where the local pubs, the Bay Horse and the Plough continue the equine theme running through today's hostelries. The whole suburb is immensely likeable, with attractive terraces running down towards the river, and the Fulford Road running in past St Oswald's church and the Masonic Almshouses, and the whole area feels just that bit out of time, and the major feature at the edge of the city is the Imphal Barracks, massively constructed in the 1870s and current home of the 1st (UK) Division, cheekily claiming Army residence since AD71, it's surely one of the few major barracks that still endure within a major city in Britain?

Push on to Fishergate, noting the brick quality and terrace styles that are pervasive in this city, meeting the Lighthorseman as my last Equestrian pub of the day, and as the city of York looms ahead, the five decent hours of the day pass to be replaced by a gloomy one, just when I want to take a couple of hundred urban pictures. So first glimpse of the Medieval city walls and the Minster towers are gained as the day greys over, pacing down past the Postern Gate, and over the River Foss above its flood gate, as Tower Street offers no obvious crossing to get to the perimeter walls of York Castle, with the Castle Museum within, and the 13th century Clifford's Tower still standing proudly atop the Norman motte. Joining the tourist throng along Clifford's Street, I have to keep my wits to stay on my chosen course, plucked deep from the recesses of my memory to find my way past the Grand Opera House to Coppergate and All Saints Pavement, to find that The Shambles is actually on the far side of Parliament Street and the branch of M&S. The throng thickens further on this famously cramped Butcher's row that dates back as far as the 14th century, one that is still a must for any visitor, though my fickle nature has always favoured the trajectory of Kings Square and Low and High Petergate for some reason, not as old but less postcard-ish in my mind. Past St Michael le Belfry, and out to the Minster Yard, where I could do without the company of many Morris Dancers, and choose to take a circuit of the Minster via Dean's park, and I've always thought of the church as a fine example of Decorated Gothic, even though the Transepts are Early English and the Choir Perpendicular. Still love the Nave, Chapter house and West Front though, and I'd tour around inside too, if it wasn't for the prohibitive cost (and the long day experienced) so pace away to Duncombe Place and Museum Street, past the Abbey gardens and over the Ouse again, at Lendal Bridge, where as a small child I once looked at the record flood marker way above my head and thought 'yeah, sure', and now know that the 1982 record has been topped twice since then. Station Road leads away from The Maltings, where I spent most of my last visit here, and under the wall, on past the NER's mighty Royal York hotel, and beyond lies my destination, York station, another place that feels like a home from home, and one that if I were to ever tire of seeing, I would feel that I had tired of life altogether. All done at just before 3pm, and if the year plans out right, I could find myself getting out here five more times, and most of the monetary costs of the 2016 season will be absorbed in the coming and going, but let's face it, the City of York is worth it, isn't it?

5,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 2143.2 miles
2016 Total: 128.8 miles
Up Country Total: 1946.5 miles
Solo Total: 1913.1 miles

The White Horse, Church Fenton. Our entry point into uncharted territory, and the first of
a long string of equine names, a different sort of day might have demanded a pub crawl?

RAF Church Fenton (former), can it make it big as East Leeds airport?
(actually 10 miles or so from East Leeds)

Primrose Hill farm. In a flatland landscape, it's the woods, lanes, rails and farmsteads that bring the interest.

Cawood Swing Bridge, a relic of the horse and cart age, still in business in the
21st century, and the only available crossing on the Ouse in this quarter.