In 2009, I was settled on my sofa in our home in Towcester, Northamptonshire, watching the first episode of the BBC series ‘Wainwright Walks: Coast to Coast’ with Julia Bradbury.
The Coast to Coast Path, as originally devised by Alfred Wainwright, starts in St Bees in Cumbria and finishes in Robin Hood’s Bay in North Yorkshire. Depending on your chosen route, the walk is around 192 miles in distance. The ascent across the walk is around 26,000 feet – that’s in the ballpark of Mount Everest!
By the end of that first episode, despite Julia being battered with horrendous Lakeland weather, I’d decided this was a walk for me. It would be fair to say it took a little longer for my partner Neil to be as enthusiastic. However, by the end of the series we were both seriously researching the reality of walking across England. Three months later we had all our accommodation booked. That sounds easier than it actually was. In the days before B&Bs had online booking, or even email in some cases, I sent numerous letters and cheque deposits.
We set off in May 2010, walking up the headland from St Bees, having dipped our boots in the Irish sea and collected our pebble, as tradition dictates – a process which took far longer than it should have. It was a glorious day in May. In fact it was a glorious thirteen days, in which we only experienced 15 minutes of rain.
The walk traverses three National Parks: the Lake District, the Yorkshire Dales and the North York Moors. The Lake District especially, is spectacular; however, it was the halfway point, the area around the tiny village of Keld in Upper Swaledale in the Yorkshire Dales National Park, that we fell in love with.
As it happened, we didn’t stay in Keld on our Coast to Coast walk as we couldn’t find accommodation with availability, even booking our trip some nine months in advance. The reason, it transpired, is that this tiny village, a hamlet really, is something of a crossroads. Through Keld comes the Coast to Coast, the Pennine Way and also the Herriot Way, as well as being a magnet for those not on long-distance quests who come simply to enjoy this beautiful landscape. So, while we were walking the second half from Keld to Robin’s Hood Bay, an idea hatched… to make more accommodation in Keld.
Just over a year later, we found a building ripe for renovation, sitting directly on the Pennine Way, and that meant less than a mile extra walk for Coast to Coasters. Perfect. The estate agent’s opening line described the property as “Not for the faint-hearted”, written by a drama queen, obviously. This felt like a challenge, which was accepted, with the quickest decision ever made. Seriously, I’ve spent more time deciding what to wear on a night out. We first viewed Frith Lodge, which was being sold along with a derelict 300 year old farmhouse not lived in for a century, on 5 November 2011.
We arrived in Upper Swaledale to find that, even on a November day, it refused to be anything other than utterly beautiful. Blue skies, sunshine, and the sort of crispness in the air that makes you feel like you’ve accidentally wandered into a film set.
Instead of seeing the buildings as they were – and, frankly, they weren’t pretty – I could clearly imagine what they might become. In the space of just over an hour my mind was made up, I knew with a certainty I had never before experienced, that this would become our home.
We didn’t stop talking the entire way back to Towcester – for four hours, ideas tumbled out faster than we could catch them. Even the universe seemed to be cheering us on: fireworks kept bursting along the route in spectacular approval.
“It’s a sign!” I exclaimed to Neil.
“No,” he said, with the faintest hint of sarcasm, “it’s the fifth of November.”
By the end of that month, we had sold our house.
Moving in was an experience like no other. Frith Lodge sits a mile ‘off road’ and is only accessible in a 4 x 4, as that mile involves a steep double hairpin bend. In April 2012 lady luck was not on our side. Before we could even think about loading the trailer, the eight-foot snowdrift blocking the final hundred metres to the house had to be cleared.
In 2013, with planning permission granted and a builder prepared to take on a project in such a location, we began the renovation. No one could prepare us though for what it takes to renovate a property in such a remote spot. The building materials, for example, could only be delivered to the roadside – a mile away – so everything, including the builders themselves, had to be collected and driven up, through several gated fields. The sheep regularly tested our speed and agility to get through an opened gate and get it closed again, often their successful bid for alternate grazing left us with an embarrassing call to the farm.
We had, as you can imagine, our fair share of calamity, disaster, and not to mention near financial ruin. However the thing we did not expect was the wonderful sense of community this remote corner of Upper Swaledale offered. Incomers we may have been, arriving with buckets of naivety, but the generosity of our neighbours and those established hospitality businesses in Keld, felt like arms that literally wrapped us in a scaffold of support and friendship.
Running the B&B was, at first, a baptism of fire. We were so focused on the renovation, the reality of running the business initially got somewhat lost. However, that reality soon turned into something quite extraordinary.
We have had the privilege to host, over the past ten years, some really wonderful people. It helps, I’m sure, that we start on common ground. By definition we share similar interests: the love of walking, being immersed in incredible landscapes and a curiosity to learn from the adventures of others. We also get to live the Coast the Coast daily through their experience.
Due to our remote location we also provide evening meals, it can feel like throwing a dinner party every night. Around our dining table – everyone sits at one big table – stories are told, friendships are formed and the camaraderie is palpable. It never ceases to amaze me that you can bring people together from opposite sides of the globe and, within minutes, the jokes roll out, and the laughter roars. Most nights it’s an international affair. Around 50% of our guests are British, the other 50% are predominantly from the US, Australia and Europe – the Europeans are mostly German, Dutch and Belgians.
It would be remiss of me to give the impression that everyone arrives in a gleeful spirit. For some, they have completely underestimated the difficulty of the Coast to Coast walk. They arrive, nothing short of broken and their everyday filters have been abandoned on the path miles back. Usually, a cup of tea and some homemade cake does the trick, but very occasionally I need the patience of a hostage negotiator.
One truly unexpected gift is that many guests have actually become our friends. Not just friends, but truly close, fabulous ones – the kind you love to spend time and even holiday with, the kind who share in the big life milestones right alongside you.
I have written a book called ‘Coast to Coast and Halfway Between’ if you would like to read more about how this walk across England completely transformed our lives.
Its publication came on the day the Coast to Coast Path National Trail officially opened – 26 March 2026 – following its designation in 2022. That, like living in Keld, is incredibly special.
